On the Marine Warship at This Moment—
Borsalino, the admiral known as Kizaru, was leisurely sipping his tea.
He held a newspaper in hand, legs crossed, comfortably slouched in a reclining chair.
From time to time, surprised sounds came out of his mouth.
"Yo~ kowai ne~ Ah~ this one's kowai ne too~ young people these days, really terrifying~ slurp~"
"Mmm~ today's tea's pretty decent~"
As he spoke, he glanced at the large figure beside him.
"Old man, can't you be a little more alert? We're in the middle of a prisoner transport! What kind of attitude is this?!"
Standing beside him was Sentomaru, the pudgy fellow from the Marine Science Unit, holding his giant axe and looking helplessly at Kizaru lounging around.
"Oyoyo~ I am being very alert, you know~ Normally I'd already be in bed at this hour~"
"No one's gonna come anyway~"
Kizaru said with his usual sleazy tone, clearly reluctant to be doing any work.
He even threw a glance over at Kuma not far away, then shook his head with a look of resignation.
Sentomaru, after glancing at the sky, also fell into thought.
'The sun hasn't even set yet...'
'It's barely past quitting time.'
'So you just hit the bed right after you're off duty, huh...'
Thinking this, Sentomaru gave up and stopped nagging. He hefted his axe and began patrolling the deck.
As for Kuma, he was seated on the deck, not far from Kizaru.
He had no other thoughts—no escape, no resistance.
He simply accepted his fate with eerie calmness.
It was as if this were his nature—never resisting.
Kuma gazed at the setting sun in the distance, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
'Sigh... I wonder if Bonney can take care of herself on her own.'
'I just can't stop worrying.'
'With an admiral here, what could he even do?'
'After that last battle, he must be badly injured too.'
'Escaping from two admirals definitely comes at a heavy price.'
'Honestly, I hope he doesn't come.'
'Otherwise, I'll just have another companion to take back with me.'
But when he thought about Bonney, Kuma actually found himself hoping that Vir would show up.
What if he really has a way?
Kuma was very conflicted.
Though part of him wanted to be saved, he refused to save himself.
Perhaps it was because of his agreement with the World Government.
After all, they had cured his daughter.
No... he couldn't do it.
"Big guy~ want some tea?"
Kizaru's sleazy voice rang out again.
Kuma simply shook his head without expression.
Raising the cup and taking another sip, Kizaru said, "Who knows~ Maybe that Vir will come to take you away~ You did save a lot of their crew~"
But Kuma remained completely silent.
A long while later, Kuma's deep voice finally responded.
"No. I will uphold my agreement with the World Government."
Kuma's tone was firm.
But Kizaru knew—this guy was just that kind of man.
With another resigned shake of his head, Kizaru turned back to his newspaper.
Meanwhile, about five kilometers ahead of the ship—
Vir suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Shit~ I'm freakin' exhausted! Feels worse than firing a whole machine gun belt!"
Sprawled across a floating steel platform, Vir looked like a dead fish.
But just a minute later, he was already back to full energy, as if ready to fire another belt!
"This feels awful. I really can't use this ability consecutively—might just drop dead next time."
As he grumbled, Vir sat up.
In his line of sight, a massive ship was slowly approaching.
The giant Marine emblem on its sail was impossible to miss.
'Didn't expect my navigation skills to be so on point!'
'Maybe I really do have a talent for being a navigator.'
Vir smugly congratulated himself.
But back on the battleship, Sentomaru, standing on the prow, was losing it!
His expression twisted as he spotted the figure in white not far away.
He quickly pulled out a spyglass—
But when he looked again, the spot was already empty.
Sentomaru didn't think he was seeing things.
He was way too experienced to doubt his own eyes.
He immediately bolted toward the stern of the ship.
He had to report this to Kizaru!
"Old man! Old man! We've got trouble!"
Sentomaru's shout echoed across the ship.
But when he reached Kizaru and saw the scene before him, his eyes went wide.
There Kizaru sat, still lounging in his chair.
And right beside him—
A guy in white, chatting away with a big grin on his face.
Who else could it be but Vir?!
Isn't this guy supposed to be an enemy?
Why's the old man chatting with him like they're pals?
So are we fighting or not??
Behind Sentomaru, almost the entire crew had gathered.
Everyone had noticed Vir's presence.
But the current situation left them at a loss.
They exchanged glances, unsure whether to fight or stand down.
"You're here~ So fast, young man~ Faster than me~"
Kizaru wore his usual laid-back grin, as if he'd known Vir would show up all along.
But in truth, it was just his naturally aloof and lazy nature.
'You ask why I'm not arresting him?'
'Do you think I'm stupid, or do you think this brat is stupid?!'
'He had the guts to walk right up next to me in broad daylight!'
'If I were in bed right now, he'd probably be snuggling under the covers with me!'
'With how blatant he's being, can't you see?'
'This guy clearly isn't afraid of anything.'
'Why bother wasting the effort?!'
'Isn't it better to just relax?!'
'Let's see what this kid's really up to first.'
'If he's just here to chat, then having tea with him isn't so bad.'
'But if it's something else...'
'Well, I can't just let him do as he pleases'
"Hey! Uncle, don't sell yourself short! No way I'm beating the legendary Three-Second Man!"
Vir's ability to throw back a verbal jab was top-tier.
Instantly, Kizaru's face darkened.
Vir made himself right at home, conjuring a lightning chair and plopping down in it.
To an outsider, it might've looked like he was electrocuting himself.
Once seated, he didn't waste a second—grabbing Kizaru's freshly brewed (and untouched) tea, he took a sip.
Drinking it wouldn't have been that bad on its own.
But the look of disdain on his face...
And that final mouthful—he spat it out.
"Pleh! Man, I'm exhausted after all that running. But Uncle, what kind of tea is this? It tastes like dog shit! Who the hell brewed this crap? It's trash. No color, no aroma, no flavor—absolutely worthless."
Vir proceeded to critique the tea like a connoisseur.
Kizaru's face grew even darker.
'If it had been the previous cup, fine.'
'But this one was brewed by me—you—!'
Kizaru was speechless.
He thought he was shameless enough.
Vir made him look like a monk.
This was like barging into someone's dinner party, jumping onto their table without a word, scarfing down their food, flipping the table over, and then declaring:
"What garbage! Tastes awful!"
Right now, all Kizaru could think was:
"How audacious. Sometimes, I really just want to call the Marines!"