A matching chuckle rumbled in Lancelot's chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated confidence.
"Father, I might not be good at many things, but I must excel in that. You can count on it. Next year, I'll definitely give you a pair of grandchildren..."
He mused to himself silently.
As long as the land was plentiful and fertile, and you sowed enough seeds, how could you possibly fear not growing a crop?
"Alright..." Burns's voice was thick with amusement.
"I'll be waiting. Well, I won't disturb your... good time."
With that, he hung up the call, still laughing.
Lancelot smiled, placing the receiver back on its cradle.
He stood, stretching his towering frame, and walked to the door.
Just as his father had heard, Tashigi was already waiting there, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
"You came so quickly?" Lancelot asked, his lips curling into an easy smile.
He naturally assumed she had arrived bright and early, eager to begin their promised swordsmanship practice.
Hearing this, Tashigi's bright expression faltered, and her shoulders slumped with visible disappointment.
"I'm afraid we can't... The orders from above have just arrived. Captain Smoker wants you to report to him immediately."
A spark of genuine joy leaped in Lancelot's heart.
This was perfect.
He had no desire to be stuck in Loguetown, especially not under Smoker's direct and watchful eye.
Although the Captain's impression of him had clearly changed, it still made things far too restrictive.
Fundamentally, the two of them were not on the same path.
Smoker walked the line of moral justice; Lancelot, despite his "Absolute Justice" posturing, was walking a path of pure self-interest and power.
Their philosophies were destined to clash.
Soon, Lancelot arrived at Smoker's office.
The moment he entered the smoke-filled room, Smoker's intense gaze fixed on him.
Smoker's expression was a complex mask of irritation, profound surprise, and a new, grudging respect.
Just yesterday, his opinion of this nepo baby had begun to turn.
He had seen Lancelot's ruthlessness against pirates and his clever, if horrifying, strategy to save the civilians.
And now, first thing in the morning, Lancelot had given him another lesson entirely.
Smoker had just finished reading the encrypted dispatch from Marine Headquarters.
"An exceptional promotion to Lieutenant Commander," he thought, his mind reeling.
"And transferred to the Marine Inspection Department as one of the ten inspectors of the East Blue."
What skillful, outrageous maneuvering!
The promotion itself, while fast, wasn't the true shock.
Lancelot had single-handedly captured two of the Krieg Pirates' top commanders.
That was a feat worthy of reward.
But the Marine Inspection Department... that was a different beast entirely.
That truly required some serious, high-level connections.
The Inspection Department, though officially affiliated with the Marines, was ostensibly under the jurisdiction of Marine Headquarters.
However, everyone in the Marines with half a brain knew the truth: it was a department established by the World Government itself, designed to oversee—and control—the Marine.
It was the internal affairs division, the political arm, answerable not to the Fleet Admiral, but to the Gorosei and the Celestial Dragons they served.
Ordinary people couldn't get in.
Those who did were all, without exception, tied to the Holy Land.
Most importantly, in Smoker's opinion, the people in the Marine Inspection Department were even more detestable than CP agents.
At least Cipher Pol got things done.
These inspectors... they were political parasites.
They never did anything good, but when it came to extorting Beri from bases, skimming from government funds, and climbing the ladder, they were all top-notch.
"Huff…" Smoker took a deep, rattling breath, forcing two streams of smoke from his nostrils.
He tried hard to calm himself.
He hated the Inspection Department and everything it stood for.
But... as he looked at Lancelot, a strange thought occurred to him.
Having this man join was, perhaps, still better than some unknown political hack.
After all, Lancelot showed no mercy to pirates, and he (Smoker believed) genuinely cared about ordinary civilians, even if his methods were dangerously unorthodox.
His only real flaw seemed to be his womanizing.
Compared to the other nine corrupt-to-the-bone marine inspectors in the East Blue, that flaw was practically nothing.
Thinking this, Smoker's expression settled.
He picked up the official appointment letter from his desk and handed it to Lancelot.
"Congratulations on your promotion to Lieutenant Commander," he said, his voice a low growl.
"And on becoming one of the ten inspectors of the East Blue."
He paused, leaning forward, his eyes burning with intensity.
"I hope you will truly fulfill the duties of an inspector—not deliberately targeting the Marines for political gain, nor resorting to any means to extort Beri."
Just as Lancelot took the papers, the familiar system prompt appeared in his mind.
Ding! Congratulations on your promotion to Lieutenant Commander.
Reward: Advanced Firearms Mastery, Advanced Martial Arts Mastery.
Lancelot's eyelid twitched.
His first thought was that the rewards were mediocre.
But then he processed the word "Advanced."
This wasn't just basic knowledge.
This was a complete, instinctive understanding.
His mind was instantly flooded with information—the trajectory of any bullet, the weak points of any firearm, the perfect execution of kicks, joint locks, and strikes.
This mastery complemented his swordsmanship perfectly, filling the gaps in his combat style.
He hid his satisfaction.
"You can judge me by my actions going forward, Captain," Lancelot replied, his voice smooth and confident.
Smoker's eyes flickered, searching Lancelot's face.
"I hope you don't forget the words you've spoken today."
Then, his expression turned serious again.
"Alright. As an Inspector, you're entitled to your own team. The soldiers who were originally under your command can follow you to form your new unit."
This, Lancelot knew, was Smoker's way of extending an olive branch.
Lancelot shook his head, instantly refusing the offer.
"Forget about them."
Those men were loyal to Smoker's justice, not his.
They would be a liability.
After saying that, he turned his gaze pointedly to Tashigi. "I was thinking, however, about Petty Officer Tashigi—"
"Stop right there!"
Before Lancelot could even finish the sentence, Smoker slammed his hands on the desk, his voice turn into a furious roar.
"She's my only competent assistant! Don't even think about poaching her. Pick someone else!"
Tashigi, standing frozen by the door, was utterly stunned.
She never expected Lancelot to ask for her.
A faint, uncontrollable blush crept onto her cheeks as her heart fluttered.
After a moment of calculated silence, Lancelot let out a small sigh, as if disappointed.
"Then… I'll ask for someone else."
Smoker leaned back, still glaring. "Someone else? Who?"
Lancelot met his gaze. "Gin the man demon, from the Krieg Pirates."
Now that he was an inspector, he couldn't follow the conventional Marine path.
He already had a plan forming in his mind, a way to build true power in this sea.
But to execute it, he needed capable, ruthless allies.
With his current strength alone, it wouldn't be possible. Gin, a man of loyalty and viciousness, was the perfect first piece.
"What?!"
Smoker couldn't help but exclaim, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Having a pirate join the Marine was already against the rules, a logistical nightmare.
But Gin? A notorious murderer with a 12-million-Beri bounty?
With a grave expression, Smoker asked, "Do you even know what kind of person he is?"
"Of course," Lancelot replied calmly. "Ruthless and merciless. He'd kill without hesitation, even if his enemies begged for their lives. A textbook pirate."
"And you still want to use him?" Smoker's voice was dangerously low.
"What kind of person he is doesn't matter," Lancelot said, his tone turning cold. "What matters is who is using him."
After speaking, he immediately pressed his advantage.
"You should also be aware of the... mess... the other nine inspectors have caused in the East Blue, right? Especially the one colluding with Captain Nezumi."
Smoker's eyes widened sharply, a flash of recognition and anger in them.
"You want to go after... Arlong?"
Lancelot nodded. "Exactly. If we let that bastard continue his rampage, the Marine's reputation in the East Blue will be ruined. And this Gin—he's the sharp blade I intend to use against Arlong."
Smoker frowned, his mind racing.
Arlong was a serious problem.
He wasn't just strong himself; his crew consisted entirely of fish-men, making them extremely tough to deal with, especially if they fought near the water.
Most importantly, Arlong was politically protected.
He was secretly in league with Captain Nezumi of the 16th Branch.
Of course, Nezumi only had the guts to be so brazenly corrupt because he, in turn, had an Inspector backing him.
Furthermore, Arlong's identity was highly sensitive—he was the "brother" of Jinbe, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
For these reasons, every single time Smoker had tried to mobilize a force to wipe out Arlong Park, he had failed.
Either his superiors at Headquarters would shut him down with a direct order before he even set out, or by the time he arrived, Arlong and his crew would have mysteriously vanished.
And the moment Smoker returned to Loguetown, Arlong would reappear, right where he'd been.
It infuriated him to no end.
Smoker narrowed his eyes, a cold glint flashing within them.
Lancelot was proposing a political proxy war.
"Fine," he said, making his decision. "I agree."
But then his tone shifted, becoming hard as steel.
"However, it's up to you to convince Gin. And you'll have to handle his identity change and paperwork yourself. I won't clean up your mess."
Lancelot smiled. "No problem."
Smoker turned to his assistant. "Tashigi, take Lieutenant Commander Lancelot to the base prison."
"Yes, sir!"
Under Tashigi's lead, Lancelot entered the base prison.
The air was cold, damp, and heavy with the smell of seawater and despair.
Their footsteps echoed loudly in the stone corridor.
At that moment, in three separate, high-security cells, sat the former command of the Krieg Pirates: Don Krieg, Gin, and Pearl.
The moment they saw Lancelot approaching, all three of their expressions changed.
Gin, who was sitting cross-legged, looked up, and his entire body tensed.
"It's... you!" he gasped, his voice raspy.
Hearing Gin's reaction, Krieg, who was pacing angrily in his own cell, immediately understood.
"Gin," he snarled, "is this the Marine who defeated you?"
Gin merely nodded, his eyes locked on Lancelot.
Krieg's face darkened further.
He lunged at the bars of his cell, his gaze locking onto Lancelot with pure hatred.
"So, our entire pirate crew... my fleet... it all fell to you."
As he spoke, he clenched his fists, rattling the thick iron bars.
If not for the cell, he would have already tried to swing at Lancelot.
But Lancelot didn't even spare him a glance.
He treated the former "Ruler of the East Blue" as if he were nothing more than air.
Instead, he walked past Krieg's cell and stopped directly in front of Gin's.
Lancelot looked at the defeated pirate.
"I'm assembling my own team," he stated, his voice calm and clear, echoing in the quiet prison.
"I need killers. Are you interested in joining me?"