When Renzo, Sanji, and Potts stepped onto the land of the G-5 branch, the ground beneath their feet was a road paved entirely with "human carpet."
Hundreds of G-5's marines were sprawled all over the dock, lying in every direction, fast asleep and snoring loudly, forming a truly spectacular sight.
Sanji elegantly stepped over a drooling officer, his brow furrowed.
"This is the most chaotic branch of Marine? Seems more like the 'sleepiest branch' to me.'"
Potts carefully followed behind Renzo, terrified he might accidentally step on some "senior's" face.
Renzo ignored the "obstacles" completely. His Observation Haki had already swept across the entire base like a radar, precisely locking onto two targets, the kitchen and the building that looked the most luxurious, most likely the base commander's office.
"This way."
He pointed casually and walked ahead.
The interior of the base was even more chaotic than the pier.
The walls were covered in graffiti. The corridors were piled with empty liquor bottles and weapon parts. The air carried a disgusting mix of sweat and mold.
Occasionally, a few marines who hadn't gone to the port to "welcome" them poked their heads out. They opened their mouths to question the newcomers, but the moment Renzo's domain washed over them, they yawned and retreated back into their rooms to continue their nap.
The entire G-5 branch fell into an unprecedented, eerie silence the moment Renzo arrived.
They soon found the mess hall.
Calling it a cafeteria was generous, it was basically a giant, filthy tavern.
Chairs were crooked, the floor was covered in food scraps, and yesterday's rock-hard bread still sat on the back kitchen stove.
Sanji's face instantly darkened..
"This is a kitchen? This is an insult to food!"
He kicked away a rolling empty wine barrel and charged into the back kitchen, beginning a massive cleanup with almost obsessive precision.
Renzo didn't care about the environment at all. He simply checked the ingredient reserve, not great, but acceptable. Roughly handled, but still varied enough.
Then he took Potts with him to the tallest building, the former base commander's office.
The door had Vergo's nameplate on it. Renzo didn't even look, he pushed the door open and walked in.
Inside was surprisingly clean, but the decor was cold and empty. Only a huge desk and a few filing cabinets. Not even a decent sofa.
"Too hard."
That was all Renzo said before turning around.
He eventually found a Nearby break room with a wide enough bed.
He lay down, then shook his head.
"The springs are too loud. The mattress is too thin."
He instructed Potts, "Go bring down the velvet sofa from the ship. And my pillow and blanket. From now on, this is my office."
Potts hurried off.
Renzo found a chair, leaned against the window, and looked out at the thundercloud-filled sky, beginning to rest his eyes.
…
No idea how much time passed, but the G-5 marines finally woke up one after another.
They rubbed their stiff necks, dazed, minds still stuck on the moment they "welcomed" the new Admiral.
"What… happened? Why did I fall asleep?"
"Same here… feels like I suddenly blacked out…"
"Where's the new Admiral?!"
When they saw the freshly cleaned kitchen, and Sanji inside ordering several marines to scrub equipment, they froze.
When they learned the new Admiral didn't react at all to their "test," and instead claimed the best rest room for himself and demanded his sofa be moved down from the ship…
Everyone was utterly confused.
What was this?
Ignoring them?
Or… something deeper, contempt?
A burly officer, Smoker's subordinate, Tashigi's colleague, "Tibeard", rubbed his head, gathered a few trusted men, and stormed toward Renzo's "new office."
"HEY! New guy! What the hell did you do?!"
Tibeard kicked the door open and yelled inside but all he saw was Renzo lying limp on an absurdly luxurious velvet sofa, blanket over his body, seeming to be asleep again.
A soft reminder appeared on the page: switch font, color, etc.
Hearing the noise, Renzo opened his eyes impatiently and glanced at him.
"Loud."
Just one word.
But it carried the weight of a sledgehammer. Tibeard and his men instantly felt overwhelming fatigue crash down on them, their legs nearly buckling again.
"Listen up."
Renzo slowly sat up. This was the first time he said more than two words to them.
"I don't care what rules you had before. Starting today, G-5 has three new rules."
He raised one finger.
"First: Before 8 a.m., from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., and after 9 p.m., all unnecessary noise in the base is forbidden. That includes training, arguing, and shouting. These are my rest times."
A second finger.
"Second: The kitchen and everything within fifty meters of it is under Sanji's control. No one may enter. No one may question his menu. And no stealing food. Violators get a week of ration bars."
A third finger.
His sleepy eyes flashed with a surprisingly sharp light.
"Third, and most important: Don't bother me."
"All paperwork, patrols, schedules, give them to Potts."
"All fights or emergencies, if I think it's 'troublesome,' I'll deal with it. If not, you settle it yourselves."
"In summary…" He yawned and lay back down.
"Don't wake me. Don't starve me. Don't annoy me."
"Understood?"
Tibeard and his men stood frozen, brains blank.
'What kind of rule was this?'
This wasn't rules-
This was a Professional Slacker Declaration.
They, G-5 marines, a group known for violence and chaos, were now asked to follow these kindergarten-like rules?
"You've gotta be kidding!"
Tibeard finally broke free from the fatigue and roared.
"We G-5 marines aren't here to babysit you!"
He reached for his blade but his wrist refused to move, as if shackled.
Renzo didn't even look at him.
He simply called:
"Potts."
Potts rushed in from the next room with a clipboard.
"Starting today," Renzo said, pointing at Tibeard, he, and anyone who breaks Rule One, loses meat privileges for three days."
"Break Rule Two, one week of ration bars.
Break Rule Three…"
He paused, thinking.
"Make them carry all the sleeping marines from the pier into the brig. They can sleep again when they finish."
He pulled the blanket over his head, ignoring everyone completely.
Tibeard and his men stared at each other, horrified.
No meat?
Manual labor?
These punishments…
They were worse than getting beaten!
But when they tried resisting and found their bodies still weighed down like lead, they realized-
This new Admiral "Gray Sheep" was serious.
And he had many ways to force his rules on them.
That night, Tibeard, for "shouting loudly," received only a vegetable salad.
A few marines caught trying to steal alcohol were kicked out by Sanji's Diable Jambe and informed by Potts that they would be eating ration bars for the next week.
The G-5 branch, on the first day of the slothful admiral's arrival, underwent an unprecedented revolution, an order built entirely around food and sleep.
Many still complained, but they soon discovered that resistance was pointless.
Because this man didn't argue.
He simply made you feel:
"Ugh… it's less trouble to just follow his rules."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu