If Vice Admiral Borsalino hadn't occasionally shifted or rolled over, Arthur would have sworn he was dead.
Arthur had barely endured the first two days. On the third, Borsalino still lay sprawled on the deck like a sun-dried salted fish, basking. At last Arthur couldn't hold it in. "What's going on here?!"
Every day at sea bled money—food and supplies for over a thousand Marines, fuel for the ship. It was precious time and resources that could be spent hunting pirates nearby.
At his exasperated tone, Borsalino pushed up his comically oversized frog-eye sunglasses. His dull gaze slanted toward Arthur. "No need to rush, kid… Besides, I'm not in command of this operation."
Arthur fell silent, flattened by the man's indolent drawl.
Guess I'll just have to wait for Vice Admiral Darren to return.
A figure streaked across the sky, dropping to the deck in a smooth, effortless landing.
"Vice Admiral Darren!"
Marines abandoned cards and fishing lines, snapping to attention and saluting as he approached.
"Carry on," Darren said with a chuckle, waving them back to their leisure.
Arthur stared, mute.
"What's wrong, Arthur?" Darren asked, catching the look.
Arthur glanced at Borsalino draped over his beach chair, then back at Darren, who seemed entirely unbothered by the lax mood on deck. A tic tugged at his mouth. "Nothing, Vice Admiral Darren…"
Darren chuckled, having already guessed. He clapped Arthur's shoulder. "Enthusiasm is good, but being an excellent Marine is more than fighting. This sea is full of human complications, not just battles."
Arthur didn't look convinced, but he trusted Darren. "Then what's our next move?"
He'd refused to drift with the others these three days. He'd trained without fail, itching to test the results. He hadn't forgotten Darren's words.
I can't let Vice Admiral Darren down. I have to leave a good impression.
The thought made his eyes shine.
"Operation? There's no operation anymore," Darren said, smiling. "It's resolved."
"R—resolved?" Arthur gaped. They'd done nothing for days. How could anything be resolved?
"Think about it," Darren said, amusement glinting in his eyes. "You heard any news from the New World about Shichibukai candidates being hunted lately?"
Arthur froze.
He hadn't. Headquarters had reported nothing. But that didn't prove the threat was gone—the culprit might simply have gone to ground.
Seeing him think it through, Darren looked over at Borsalino. "Vice Admiral Borsalino, you haven't gotten out of bed in three days, have you?"
Borsalino grinned. "Not exactly."
He paused. "I did sit up for a drink or two… otherwise I'd starve."
Darren: …
All right, you win.
"So… it's all wrapped up?" Borsalino asked, sly.
Darren narrowed his eyes, smiling back. "Perhaps."
"I suppose so. Thanks for the help," he added.
Borsalino shrugged. "No problem."
"What's your next move?"
"You finally get some time off and you're heading back already?"
"Speaking of which—the G-5 Branch isn't far. As the new base commander, shouldn't you swing by and take the post officially?"
Darren laughed. "That's exactly what I had in mind."
The appointment had come through two weeks ago, but crisis followed crisis; he hadn't made it out yet. Truth be told, his presence wouldn't tame that unruly branch, but it was his turf—he should at least show his face.
Under his orders, the battleship changed course for G-5.
A cool sea breeze swept the deck, lifting spirits.
White seabirds wheeled against the blue.
With Darren aboard, a beach chair had somehow materialized on deck.
"I can tell that Arthur kid's on your mind," Borsalino said suddenly.
Darren paused, mid-light, and let his gaze drift to the young Marine drilling with relentless focus across the deck. Sweat ran down Arthur's face as he moved—precise, unflagging—standing in sharp contrast to the ship's lazy air. His hands and legs began to tremble with fatigue, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on, raw determination burning through the form.
Darren lit his cigar, took a drag, and smiled faintly. "Doesn't his demeanor remind you of someone we know?"
Behind dark lenses, Borsalino's expression didn't change. "There is a resemblance."
He shifted his gaze to Darren, a new glint of interest. "I hear that kid recently secured substantial funding from a mysterious source. He's building a private army called the Freedom Fighters. Vice Admiral Darren… are you the shadowy benefactor behind it?"
Darren threw up his hands, mock-innocent, face comically exaggerated. "Impossible! How could you think that…?"
"I'm a Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters. How could I possibly be connected to a world-class criminal?"
"But I heard something else. The Freedom Fighters have been making waves. Their intel work suddenly improved, and they even overthrew a government…"
"Vice Admiral Borsalino, would you happen to be the source of that intel?"
Borsalino lifted his hands in mock surprise. "Impossible…"
"I'm a Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters. How could I possibly be connected to a world-class criminal?"
They stood there with matching surrender poses, looking ridiculous.
Then—
They burst out laughing.
"How absurd!"
"Of course it is!"
Boom.
A muffled blast shuddered through the hull, a geyser of seawater erupting alongside.
Waves slammed the ship, rocking her hard.
"Cannon fire!"
"It's an attack!"
"Enemy assault!"
"Prepare for battle!"
To be continued...