Zefa glanced at his student blankly. "It's beautifully written. Clearly a lot of thought went into it. That princess is a master storyteller."
Binz quickly explained, "Teacher, no, this isn't fiction. I've heard of the Randoluff Theater—"
Zefa waved him off. "Whether it's true or not, the setup's too perfect. Too tailored to impress me. The shady dealings on Judiciary Island, the Navy's warped promotion system... even that Randoluff character…"
Zefa, whose own past echoed Randoluff's, held back further comment out of mercy. The old Navy man had spent half his life urging the public to resist pirates. That alone earned respect.
To say he felt nothing would be a lie. Weiwei's intentions in telling the story touched him. Whether he liked it or not, the Navy had changed—no, rotted—and the World Government was even worse. So many secrets festering in the dark... it disgusted him.
Binz didn't think so deeply. He wanted to defend her but didn't know where to begin.
Zefa sneered. "And what does any of this have to do with you, Lieutenant Binz? Can you reform Judiciary Island? Can you change the Navy? The story was crafted perfectly. She played you, rookie."
He went further. "Ask yourself—why didn't that princess contact Ain? Or one of the admirals? Why you, a wide-eyed lieutenant?"
A tall woman nearby, with shorts and a long blue cape, chuckled and added, "Yes, why not me?"
Binz scratched his head awkwardly. "Maybe... because I'm more handsome?"
Spat! Zefa's response came with a mouthful of saliva.
"Because you're a man and she's a woman! You're being used, fool!"
He broke it down. "Do you know how many ships enter the New World from the first half of the Grand Line every day? Some fast, some well-escorted, others under Celestial Dragon protection passing straight through Mariejois. Why did Her Royal Highness board a plain merchant ship? Have you even thought about that?"
"She could've avoided the Judiciary Island mess entirely. Changed ships. No one could've stopped her. So why stick with the troupe for three months? You think everyone lazes around like you?"
The old man's voice rose with each word until the hospital walls shook.
"N-no, I didn't think she was that old..." Binz stammered. He'd liked Weiwei. Now he just felt confused and disappointed.
"I've seen nobles' faces for forty years! Open your eyes! Use your damn brain!"
"Th-then... Teacher, does that mean... you're going to meet her?" Binz asked, glancing helplessly at Ain, who only smirked and crossed her arms.
Zefa stared at him like he was a moron. "Of course I'm going to see her! She came all the way from Alabasta. What kind of man would I be to refuse? You think I'd dodge a meeting like some coward? If I didn't see her, that old fart Garp would laugh himself to death!"
Binz wiped sweat and spit from his face. The old man had already said everything. What more could he add?
Zefa had always acted decisively. After passing on his lesson, he ordered Binz to summon Weiwei.
She was in her room, casually playing backgammon with Karoo.
"General Zefa wants to see you."
"Now?"
"Yes, right now."
Judging that there'd be no fighting, Weiwei left Karoo behind and followed the stern-faced Binz to the G2 Naval Base hospital to meet the former Admiral Zefa, said to be in recovery.
This meeting was personal. A mutual assessment.
Even if Zefa agreed to work for Alabasta, formal appointment required a direct invitation from King Cobra himself. With over 200 world kings, few had the influence to even approach a former Navy admiral. If Weiwei's father died, people might mourn briefly. But if a man like Zefa passed? That shook the world.
Only because Alabasta was a thousand-year-old kingdom and a founding member of the World Government did it have the clout to make such a recruitment.
"General Zefa, I've long admired you."
"Your Highness Nefertari Vivi. You flatter me—coming so far just to meet an old soldier like me."
Their opening lines were polite. But Weiwei could sense his dissatisfaction. Zefa didn't hide it.
She assumed it was just his rigid personality. After brief pleasantries, she cut to the point.
"General Zefa, Alabasta needs your strength—your name and your discipline."
It was the same speech she'd given Dadi. Military reform. Reducing arms to improve public welfare. Fighting pirates from the ground up.
At the end, she added solemnly, "My father, Nefertari Cobra, hopes to appoint you as our Supreme Commander."
Alabasta's army was showing cracks. Domestic turmoil had reached a boiling point. Neither Vivi nor her father could quell the chaos. The people were restless. Sand Crocodile hadn't caused the problem—he just made it worse. Even without him, a storm was coming.
And with reform around the corner, things would only worsen. If word leaked, half the army could defect overnight.
This was why King Cobra, in the original timeline, had stood still as tensions escalated. It wasn't ignorance—it was powerlessness. He lacked the strength, respect, and skill to bring order.
And Vivi had even less.
Zefa, though—Zefa was different.
He could fight. He carried weight. He could silence dissent with a look. His presence alone could suppress rebellion, push reform through, and crush resistance.
This plan wasn't born overnight. It came after dozens of failed attempts—because only a man like Zefa could pull it off.