Jin dropped down in a side alley. No need to scare the civilians by dive-bombing the main plaza.
He walked out to a street-side stall and started wolfing food again.
In this world, big eaters were everywhere. People passing by barely glanced at him—even as he vacuumed up steamed buns, skewers, porridge and whatever else the uncle handed over.
Halfway through his second table, someone plopped down opposite him.
"Yo, isn't this our busy man, White?" That familiar scruffy, lecherous face—Garp's disciple, Vice Admiral Gaji—grinned at him.
"If you're gonna eat, eat. If not, don't bother me." Jin gave him one look and kept shoveling.
"Tsk tsk tsk, such an appetite. You and Garp-ossan could compete for a food budget."
Gaji watched him inhale food, the porridge going straight down without even blowing on it.
Hiiiccup.
Jin burped contentedly, finally standing to pay.
"Come again anytime, customer!" The stall owner waved enthusiastically.
A customer like this showing up once was worth several normal days of business.
Picking his teeth, Jin strolled toward HQ with Gaji.
"By the way," Gaji started, "I heard you and Saint Mjosgard teamed up to take over Auction House No. 1?"
"Hn?" Jin raised a brow. "News travels that fast?"
"Of course." Gaji nodded. "Don't be so shocked. Mary Geoise notified Marine HQ yesterday. Fleet Admiral Sengoku almost stormed over to beat you senseless.
"Thankfully, Vice Admiral Tsuru stopped him. She said you're not the type to do that kind of dirty business. That's the only reason he cooled down."
"Oh? That's just right, then. Saves me some explanation. I was planning to talk to him anyway—and line up a side gig for you lot."
Jin grinned.
Gaji's eyes lit up.
"Side gig? Spill it. I knew you weren't actually going to be a slaver!"
Jin took the cigarette Gaji handed him and lit it.
"We're almost there. If I tell it twice, that's extra work."
"Che—"
A short walk later, they reached Sengoku's office. Jin knocked.
"Come in," came the Fleet Admiral's voice.
The door creaked open. Jin stepped inside and scanned the room.
Kuzan was sprawled on the sofa, eye mask on, pretending to sleep.
Borsalino was trimming his nails, looking as lazy as ever.
Sakazuki stood with arms crossed and a cigar in his mouth, face like chiselled stone, glaring at Jin as if he owed him money.
Behind the desk sat Sengoku, fingers steepled under his chin, gaze sharp.
Tsuru, Zephyr, and Gion (Momousagi) were all there too. The only one missing was a certain noisy old man who usually smashed through walls instead of using doors.
"Yo, everyone's here." Jin waved as if he'd just walked into a family meal.
"Hmph." Akainu snorted.
"How scary~ White," Kizaru drawled, eyes still on his nails. "I didn't expect you to buddy up with a Celestial Dragon and even start a joint business, ne~"
"Can't be helped," Jin shrugged. "Gotta fund my retirement somehow."
At that, Sengoku's face went even darker. The others weren't far behind.
Gion watched him with a faint smile; she knew he wouldn't really become a slaver.
"Enough!"Bang! Sengoku slammed his palm on the desk.
"Since you're here, explain yourself.
"And before you do, think carefully. You're a Marine officer. Not a human trafficker."
"Tch."
Jin sauntered over and flopped into the seat beside Kizaru, setting a metal box on the desk.
Akainu sneered.
"Trying to bribe us? With that little pocket change? You insult us and the uniform."
Jin ignored him and calmly started explaining the whole auction house situation.
"How it went is like this…"
He talked on and on, laying out the logic: shifting slave traders' focus from civilians to pirates, using the Celestial Dragons' taste for "strong slaves," and turning the auction into a high-end, pirate-only market.
As he spoke, expressions around the room shifted.
Some looked disdainful. Some remained impassive. Some couldn't help but nod slightly.
"…So that's the situation." Jin finished and poured himself a glass of water.
"To put it nicely: we redirect the hunters. Let the traffickers understand that pirates are more valuable, and let the Dragons realize pirates last longer than commoners."
"And the ugly version?" Tsuru asked, curious.
Jin's lips curled.
"The ugly version? That I'm trying to rake in a mountain of cash and secure a very comfortable retirement."
"Pfft—!"
Sengoku, who'd just taken a sip of tea now that his mood had eased a little, sprayed it everywhere.
"You brat! You're thinking about retirement already? How old are you?! Did you fall into a vault as a baby?!"
Everyone else looked at Jin like he was some new species of idiot.
Jin picked up a cigar from the desk, lit it, and took a drag.
"So… any more questions?"
Zephyr spoke up.
"Your idea that 'those who can't use Haki' can go to auction—so traffickers prioritize pirates and fewer civilians get hurt—I agree with that part."
After the Weevil incident, he'd clearly changed.
"But… how do you ensure that auction house keeps following your rules?"
Jin blew a smoke ring.
"Zephyr-sensei, I may not be your student, but I respect you a lot.
"Still, don't be so old-fashioned.
"If someone breaks the rules, kill them and replace them. If the new guy breaks them, keep killing and replacing until they don't. There'll always be someone who just wants to live comfortably."
Zephyr had been happy at "respect you" and immediately black-faced again at "old-fashioned."
"There's another problem," Tsuru said calmly.
"Besides Saint Mjosgard and you… who is the other partner?"
Her gaze sharpened. Yesterday she'd received a report: that person and Jin had entered and exited the auction house one after another.
Jin let out a long breath.
"That guy? Shichibukai. The one they call 'Joker'—Donquixote Doflamingo."
At that name, Akainu shattered the tea table with a punch.
"Are you kidding me?! Cooperating with pirates? You're a disgrace to the coat! Are you trying to drag the whole Marine name through the mud?!"
Magma bubbled from his shoulders, the air around him literally heating up.
Faces turned grim all around. Cold eyes focused on Jin. But aside from hot-tempered Sakazuki, no one moved—yet.
Jin's expression turned serious.
"First: Sakazuki, I don't hate you as a person. For your 'justice,' you'll kill anyone, pay any price.
"Second: what I hate is people who won't let me finish my damn sentence."
Golden pupils flashed into being as his aura exploded. He grabbed the hilt of the massive sword on his back; black lightning crackled along the blade.
With their auras clashing, the office turned into a wind tunnel, papers flying, floorboards creaking. The two locked eyes, killing intent colliding.
"Enough!" Sengoku roared.
"Hmph." Akainu dispersed his magma.
"Tch. If you wanna fight, just say it." Jin slid the sword back, pupils fading to normal.
"I expect a very good explanation," Tsuru said, face like ice. She'd chased Doflamingo for years; hearing Jin call him a "partner" was like salt in an old wound.
Sengoku looked even worse. His adopted son, Rosinante, had died at Doflamingo's hands.
"Doflamingo's already been 'washed' by the World Government," Jin said slowly. "If we're talking about shame, the Marines' face was dragged through the mud a long time ago."
He deliberately glanced at Sakazuki.
"Hmph." Akainu turned away, jaw clenched.
"And besides," Jin went on, "there are things Marines can't conveniently do.
"That's what he's for. Like… eliminating competing traffickers. Cleaning up anyone who breaks our rules."
Most of that was bullshit, but he kept that part to himself.
Finally, he looked straight at Sengoku and grinned.
"Right now, Doflamingo can supply me with some very useful things.
"From where I'm standing, he's a hen laying golden eggs. When he gets old and stops laying, I'll slaughter him for meat and squeeze out his last value.
"Does that explanation satisfy you… Fleet Admiral?"
Silence fell.
They all knew very well: the Marines' image had been trampled by the World Government for years. They didn't believe most of his pretty words—but they also couldn't refute the reality.
"Anyway," Jin added, "I did find a way for some Marine brothers to earn a little extra. Isn't that right, Admiral Kizaru?"
"How terrifying~" Borsalino drawled, finally looking up. "So what do you mean by that, White?"
Jin smirked.
"For you, it's one kick, one hundred million berries in revenue. Simple math."
"…That… does sound reasonable," Kizaru scratched his chin. "My kicks are quite fast. Speed is power, ne~ Have you ever been kicked at the speed of light?"
Jin turned to Sengoku.
"Justice needs filthy money to keep it running too, doesn't it, Fleet Admiral?"
"This matter," Sengoku said coldly, "will not involve the Marines as an organization."
In his heart, though, he'd already made a note: This guy must never get anywhere near true power in HQ.
"Got it," Jin chuckled. That, to him, meant the worst was over.
"Admiral Kizaru," he continued, "since I went to the trouble of creating a steady cash cow for you, help me with a small favor, won't you?"
"Go ahead, White," Kizaru said lazily.
Jin opened the metal box. Everyone craned their necks.
Inside lay a Devil Fruit. By the pattern, it looked like a Paramecia. A gleaming gold bracelet lay beside it.
"I heard Dr. Vegapunk has already perfected the technology to let objects eat Devil Fruits?" Jin asked.
Kizaru accepted the cigar Jin offered, picked up the Fruit and the bracelet.
"How troublesome~~ but I don't mind helping you, White."
Sengoku knew about the tech. His own evaluation back then had been: Humans aren't enough to go around, and you're feeding Fruits to weapons? What a useless invention.
Since his goal was achieved, Jin stood up and dusted off his cloak.
"Well then, honored pillars of Marine justice," he said with a lazy salute, "this little outsider will take his leave."
"Hahahahaha—"
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