Watching two rows of navy soldiers energetically running past his shop, Ipponmatsu, the owner of the Loguetown weapons shop, wondered if he was seeing things.
“Is the sun rising from the west today? The navy is training like madmen—this is rare… ow, ow, ow!”
A woman appeared behind Ipponmatsu, yanking him by the ear and dragging him back into the shop while scolding him, “Even if the sun rises from the north today, you still have to mind the shop!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Like Ipponmatsu, many in Loguetown were surprised today. However, the training soldiers had no energy to care about others’ opinions. Despite Hailan reducing the training volume by half, the soldiers, unaccustomed to such intense training, were exhausted, red-faced, and collapsing.
If it weren’t for the new officer Hailan joining them in all the training, they might have thought the headquarters officer was messing with them.
Even the strong Lieutenant and Ensign were lying on the ground, gasping for air, their uniforms soaked with sweat.
Only two officers were unaffected—Hailan and Captain Hill.
For Hailan, these exercises were routine. On the other hand, Captain Hill marveled, “I didn’t realize headquarters’ training was this intense. Even I couldn’t keep up.”
Hill secretly trained in the Six Styles and wasn’t as weak as he appeared. This level of training didn’t trouble him, but he worried that revealing his true strength might expose him. It is better to avoid the exercises and keep his abilities hidden.
Hailan issued a dismissal order, “Alright, rest here for today. Captain Hill, it’s time you told me about the problems you’re facing.”
“Follow me,” Captain Hill nodded, leading Hailan to his office. Hailan also said, “Lieutenant, Ensign, come with us!”
Wagner, still panting, asked, “Belle-mère, can you move?”
Struggling to stand, Belle-mère replied, “Even if I can’t, I won’t let headquarters look down on us. I’m good!”
In Captain Hill’s office, Hailan looked at the sweating Belle-mère and Wagner and said, “You two, sit.”
“Sir, no need!”
“What, do you want to run more laps?”
“Um…”
Realizing they couldn’t run anymore, Belle-mère and Wagner finally sat down.
“It’s like this,” Captain Hill, prepared for the discussion, began. “Thanks to our efforts, Loguetown is relatively peaceful, and it’s rare for pirates to cause trouble on the streets. But the nearby seas frequently see attacks on passenger and fishing boats, and we often can’t respond in time. Although we have help from other branches, the East Blue is vast, and our forces are spread thin.”
“Wait,” Hailan interrupted, sensing something amiss. “Don’t the local kingdoms have their own defenses against pirates?”
Without Celestial Dragons, the World Government would be like a united government, and the Navy would be a peacekeeping force—a cross-border support team. Each country should have a military capable of imprisoning or executing pirates according to their laws. It would be laughable if the Navy had to catch all the pirates across the seas.
Wagner started to speak but recalled last night’s events and suppressed his excitement. Captain Hill explained, “That’s the issue. Our investigation suggests there’s a leader behind these pirates, someone orchestrating their attacks. But we haven’t identified this leader, and that’s our biggest challenge.”
A leader who remains unknown must be cautious. Those who show themselves are either extraordinarily powerful or foolishly reckless.
“This is tricky. An enemy in the shadows is always hard to deal with, regardless of their strength…”
…
“This is tricky. An officer from headquarters sent to the East Blue, no matter the number of his subordinates, is hard to deal with…”
In the East Blue, Victoria Kingdom, at the Navy’s 8th Branch base.
A man in golden armor and a helmet obscuring his face sat on a sofa and addressed the Navy commander at his desk.
Typically, the Navy wouldn’t establish a base within the borders of a member country, but the Victoria Kingdom was an exception. The commander of the 8th Branch, Commodore Nelson Roy, was the kingdom’s most excellent protector. Though called a Commodore, Roy’s rank was technically only Captain. Power often overshadowed formal titles in the seas, leading to self-appointed commanders and commodores.
“Captain Roy, dealing with this opponent may require outside help, and I’m not sure how many of our men we’ll lose.”
The armored man began negotiating, “Therefore, I suggest that in the future, half of Victoria Kingdom’s maritime trade should be mine.”
“You’ve got quite an appetite,” the corpulent Captain Roy chuckled, fanning himself. “Aren’t you afraid of choking on so much?”
“If I can’t handle it, my brothers can,” the armored man replied as three burly men emerged behind him.
One had short, purple-white hair tied with a headband, and his three-whites eyes intensified his cold expression.
“Don’t get too close, Krieg. We wouldn’t want any misunderstandings with Captain Roy’s guards.”
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