Inside a remote Marine branch on a distant island, the Base Commander's office gleamed with rigid order. A group of young Navy Soldiers stood in perfect formation, chests thrust proudly as if they could launch themselves into the sky to catch a seagull for the Base Commander's amusement.
"Excellent! Excellent!"
The Marine Colonel, impeccably groomed with a faint, exotic fragrance lingering around him, clasped his hands behind his back, a practiced smile on his face as he praised the eager recruits.
"All of you look remarkable! Truly exceptional!"
"For Justice!"
The Marines saluted in unison, voices echoing proudly throughout the office.
"Outstanding!" The Colonel's grin widened.
After the salute, the soldiers lowered their arms, abiding by regulations that forbade idle chatter. Yet their excitement was obvious, their eyes shining with the thrill of having been selected for the prestigious Marineford assignment. Even from the distant West Blue, these young recruits had been chosen to participate in a war that would capture the attention of the entire world. Their parents would beam with pride, and neighbors would admire their accomplishments.
Thump, thump, thump! A knock came at the door.
"Come in!" the Colonel called.
A Marine General entered, his expression calm and unreadable. He ignored the ecstatic soldiers and approached the Colonel.
"Base Commander, you summoned me?"
"Hahahaha…" The Colonel's smile deepened, unusually warm as he patted the General's shoulder.
"Congratulations, White Lieutenant! You've been selected to represent our branch at Marineford. You will lead this elite unit and achieve glory, bringing honor to our Marines!"
The White Lieutenant remained expressionless, silent.
The Colonel's smile faltered for a moment, the atmosphere chilling as the Lieutenant's stoic demeanor unsettled him. The soldiers exchanged puzzled glances—wasn't this supposed to be an honor?
"Ah! I see," the Colonel said suddenly, feigning realization. "Perhaps you worry about your family. Your second son was just born, wasn't he? No need to fret—I will personally ensure your household is looked after. Your eldest will be escorted to school, and your wife's needs will be tended to. No pirates will attack here under my watch."
The words, meant as reassurance, caused the Lieutenant's breathing to deepen. The mention of "pirates" brought back a bitter memory, and his hands clenched subtly.
"Hahahaha…" The Colonel noticed the change and laughed, patting his shoulder again. His grin now held a subtle, almost imperceptible malice.
"You must accept this mission. Do you aim to become the next Colonel Klary?"
At the mention of Klary, the Lieutenant's jaw tightened. The black sheep of the Marines had dared to bring up Klary—the former Base Commander whose family had been wiped out under suspicious circumstances during a "pirate attack." The Lieutenant was one of the few survivors. He recognized immediately the perfumed presence of the man before him—the instigator of that tragedy.
Colonel Klary's ill-fated family had been lured under the pretense of a trip, only to be ambushed. The masked "pirates" who attacked had the Colonel's unmistakable fragrance, leaving no doubt in the Lieutenant's mind.
"When you return from Marineford, I will promote you from Lieutenant to Captain," the Colonel added smoothly, releasing the Lieutenant's hand and adjusting his uniform. "You've served as Lieutenant for far too long. This mission will secure your advancement."
The Lieutenant saluted, a twisted smile appearing briefly as he outwardly expressed gratitude.
Inside, the Colonel sneered. Only if you survive will this promise matter. The Marineford "selection" was nothing but a one-way trip for cannon fodder. Real opportunity, merit, and survival were luxuries few would attain.
News from above had been clear: engaging the Whitebeard Pirates and the Four Emperors was near-suicidal. Yet here, this opportunist sought to remove a thorn in his side under the guise of a noble assignment.
The office door opened once more.
"Hahahaha! Truly, it is an honor to have brave Marines like you!" The Base Commander smiled benignly as the soldiers filed out, oblivious to the fate awaiting them. His gaze lingered on the Lieutenant, who struggled to suppress his anger, and the excited young Marines.
"For Justice," the Colonel murmured softly, almost to himself.
Rest in peace on your journey. I will accept the honor of your deaths. The so-called Marineford War of Justice was nothing more than a graveyard for those without influence.
Outside, as the sun set, a spider spun its web beneath the emblem of the Marine branch—a seagull perched atop a scale. Using the refracted sunlight, it lured tiny insects into its trap, devouring them one by one.
The empire of order, it seemed, was no safer than the wilderness.