Vice Admiral Gust's hands trembled the moment he opened the file.
The thickness alone was ominous.
Line after line of intelligence had been organized into a formal report. At the end, the field agent had even appended a full analytical conclusion.
"The Vice-Captain of the Tequila Pirates personally admitted that the crew has likely recruited a powerful new member with a bounty exceeding 50 million Berries. Based on tone and phrasing, this individual is presumed to be a lone operative. The Vice-Captain's original statement is as follows…"
"An unidentified pirate from the Tequila Pirates purchased intelligence regarding Marine bases and World Government departments. Identity as follows…"
"Cross-referencing World Government archives reveals the individual to be a former resident of Baron Trill's territory. After Baron Trill's assassination, 117 residents joined the Tequila Pirates. List attached…"
"The former boatswain, now Vice-Captain of the Tequila Pirates, is also from Baron Trill's territory."
"Prior to purchasing the intelligence, the unidentified pirate was summoned from the tavern by the Vice-Captain for a private discussion."
Gust flipped page after page, unease tightening in his chest.
He jumped to the final page.
His fist slammed onto the desk.
"Summon the staff! Emergency meeting!"
The last page read:
"Based on intelligence analysis, there is over a 70% probability that the Tequila Pirates' target is the G-12 Marine Fortress, currently commanded by Vice Admiral Gust."
Below it, the reasoning was laid out in chilling detail.
The Tequila Pirates were already one of the largest pirate crews in West Blue.
If they had truly recruited a fighter worth over 50 million Berries, they would become the undisputed strongest pirate force in the region.
Captain Medica had a well-documented obsession with power and authority. He possessed clear motive to recruit strong subordinates.
Given Medica's personality, any recruit's bounty would necessarily be lower than his own 76.3 million Berries. Combined with the Vice-Captain's wording and Medica's known intolerance for sharing authority, the recruit was almost certainly a lone wolf.
Among lone operatives with bounties exceeding 50 million, only one matched:
The "Marine Hunter," bounty 61 million.
The Marine Hunter's last confirmed appearance had been in the Kingdom of Taran—only five days' sailing from the Tequila Pirates' current departure island.
The Marine Hunter harbored intense hostility toward the Marines.
To recruit such a figure, promising an assault on a major Marine base would be highly persuasive.
Notably, the Tequila Pirates had discreetly purchased intelligence on Marine bases.
Though they had also purchased World Government intelligence, they lacked clear motive to attack government offices. The probability of that scenario was assessed at below 10%—likely a smokescreen.
Furthermore:
The Vice-Captain had recently purchased multiple additional lifeboats.
Five large lifeboats could hold nearly 280 men—over 700 if packed tightly.
The Tequila Pirates numbered just under 1,000.
Why prepare such evacuation capacity unless planning heavy combat?
Additionally, large quantities of rum had been stockpiled.
Rum was inexpensive—one-fifth the cost of oil.
Highly flammable.
Conclusion: the rum could serve as incendiary fuel to set G-12 ablaze, trapping and annihilating the fortress.
Final assessment:
"Agent No. 150011247 concludes there is a greater than 70% probability that Captain Medica intends to attack G-12 Fortress as part of negotiations to recruit the Marine Hunter."
Emergency Meeting — G-12 Fortress
"Everyone's read it?" Gust asked, face grim.
The deputy chief of staff spoke first.
"The fire-attack theory makes sense. Our base's geography and structure are… unconventional. But rum as accelerant? Why not oil?"
The intelligence chief bowed slightly.
"Perhaps the honorable Deputy Chief is unfamiliar with current market prices. Due to supply shortages, oil costs five times as much as rum."
The deputy chief's face turned bright red.
Another staff officer jumped in quickly.
"Using lifeboats as assault craft? That's ridiculous. Lifeboats prioritize capacity, not speed. They can't possibly outrun warships."
"I regret to inform you," the intelligence chief replied coolly, "that I personally tested this hypothesis. Two branch majors rowing in tandem propelled a lifeboat faster than a standard patrol vessel."
He leaned forward.
"Five large lifeboats. Two hundred eighty men nominally. Seven hundred if compressed. The entire pirate crew numbers just shy of a thousand. Why purchase that many evacuation vessels unless anticipating significant casualties?"
He asked three rhetorical questions in succession.
The staff officer muttered stubbornly, "Maybe they're just preparing to flee before total annihilation."
A near-scoff escaped the intelligence chief.
"If that proves true, I will personally swallow the Den Den Mushi recording this meeting."
The room fell silent.
"And Medica's ambition to become the Pirate Admiral of West Blue?" the deputy chief hurriedly changed the subject. "How was that determined?"
The intelligence chief's patience visibly thinned.
"Did you not read the distributed report? Or were you transferred from some remote outer sea yesterday?"
He tapped the table sharply.
"Medica has attempted to unify West Blue's pirates three times."
"First attempt: insufficient bounty. No one answered his call."
"Second attempt: insufficient subordinate strength. Could not suppress rivals."
"Third attempt: nearly every pirate crew in West Blue responded—except two major factions. The alliance lasted three days before collapsing into violent infighting."
He produced a bounty poster and tapped it with a withered finger.
"Since this man became Tequila's boatswain, internal regulations improved dramatically. Their system of merit and discipline is more refined than our own."
A brief, awkward cough.
"I studied his framework and recommended certain modifications for implementation within G-12—purely for comparative research, of course."
The chief of staff, who had been silent until now, nodded thoughtfully.
"That explains why internal merit disputes have declined across nearby branches recently."
The entire room went quiet.
It felt as though the chief of staff had just released an unpleasant odor.
Everyone tacitly agreed to pretend nothing had happened.
It was humiliating enough that a pirate crew's internal system surpassed Marine standards.
To state it openly?
Almost unbearable.
And thus—
Through layers of assumption, deduction, and bureaucratic confidence—
A massive black pot descended squarely onto Captain Medica's head.
Meanwhile, somewhere out at sea—
Louis was still trying to figure out how to quietly survive long enough to disembark Robin at the next island.