Deep in the night, inside the warship, the dim light of the oil lamp cast flickering shadows on the metal bulkheads.
Vice Admiral Zephyr sat at a table, which was covered with heavy battle reports and personnel rosters, a ink-stained fountain pen resting beside the inkwell.
This “Black Arm” was not purely a warrior; he also possessed some of the strategic acumen characteristic of Sengoku.
“Ah,” Vice Admiral Zephyr rubbed his temples, the prolonged work showing a hint of fatigue on the Vice Admiral known for his iron will.
The casualties from the God Valley battle far exceeded expectations; few survived, and even fewer were able to bring back their comrades' bodies.
The pen tip glided across the paper, names were crossed out one by one, merits were allocated, and ranks were adjusted.
Until…
Gern Reginald Sigma
Looking at the name, Vice Admiral Zephyr’s pen tip stopped.
“Gern…” He stared at the name, his brows slightly furrowed.
Logically, for a private second class from a West Blue Branch, surviving God Valley was already a miracle, let alone bringing back the remains of a superior.
Under normal circumstances, such a performance would be enough to be promoted to corporal, the lowest rank for an enlisted soldier to enter the officer class.
But for some reason, Vice Admiral Zephyr always felt something was off.
It was too coincidental.
At the last moment, just as everyone was about to evacuate, Gern appeared carrying Chief Petty Officer Derrick’s body, covered in blood, his words filled with tragic emotion.
This scene was too perfect, so perfect… it seemed like a meticulously designed performance.
Vice Admiral Zephyr put down his pen, his knuckles gently tapping the table.
In his mind, Gern’s face reappeared, especially his sorrowful expression.
“Adjutant,” Vice Admiral Zephyr suddenly spoke after a long silence.
“Yes, Vice Admiral!” The adjutant standing at the door immediately stepped forward.
“How much do you know about the situation at the West Blue Branch?”
The adjutant paused, then lowered his voice, “Corruption is severe; officers buy and sell positions, and soldiers bribing superiors to avoid missions is very common.
For a soldier like Gern, who has no background, it took him four years to get promoted to private second class… he’s either too honest or too smart.”
Vice Admiral Zephyr’s eyes darkened.
People who are too honest don't survive God Valley.
People who are too smart… know how to use “tragedy” to gain benefits.
“And I suspect Chief Petty Officer Derrick’s body was also his…”
“Hmm?” Faced with the adjutant’s words, Vice Admiral Zephyr’s expression turned solemn, “That child’s grief wasn’t fake!”
“In my life, I’ve met many people… treacherous, cunning…
I’m not foolish, but the grief that child displayed at the time truly came from his heart!!”
“From the heart, huh…” The adjutant was startled, pursed his lips, and said no more.
After reprimanding his adjutant, Vice Admiral Zephyr looked at Gern’s name again, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly sneered.
“Interesting.” The fountain pen came down again, making a heavy stroke in the merit evaluation column.
Original promotion: Corporal (lowest enlisted officer rank)
Modified to: Sergeant (highest enlisted officer rank)
The adjutant’s eyes widened, “Vice Admiral Zephyr, this…”
Vice Admiral Zephyr closed the roster, his voice low, “West Blue needs to be rectified, and rectification requires a blade.
A blade smart enough, sharp enough.”
He stood up and walked towards the porthole.
Under the Moonlight, the sea shimmered with a cold light, like a silent omen.
“As for who this blade will ultimately cut…”
Vice Admiral Zephyr’s lips curved slightly, “That depends on his own choice.
This child has a righteous heart… he just hasn’t figured out his own justice yet.”
…
After several days of sailing, in the soldiers’ resting cabin
Gern leaned against a hammock in the corner, playing with a Marine emblem in his hand.
Snores filled the cabin; no one noticed the subtle vibration waves intertwined around his fingertips.
“It seems we should be reaching West Blue around this time!” Gern looked at the small porthole, a slight smile on his lips, “This time, I should be promoted to an officer…”
Suddenly, the cabin door was pushed open, and a messenger loudly announced:
“Upon arrival at West Blue 133rd Branch, soldiers assigned to West Blue 133rd Branch, prepare to disembark!”
After saying this, the messenger gave Gern, who was in the hammock in the corner, a meaningful look.
“And! Gern Reginald Sigma!”
“Here!” Gern jumped off the hammock.
“Promotion order issued! Effective immediately, Gern Reginald Sigma is promoted to Branch Sergeant!”
As the words fell, the cabin instantly erupted in an uproar.
“What?! Directly from private second class to sergeant?!”
“This… this isn’t according to regulations, is it?!”
Gern sat up, looking at his new Marine uniform, and took the promotion order amidst everyone’s shocked gazes.
The ink on the paper was still wet, and Vice Admiral Zephyr’s signature at the bottom pressed through the paper.
He looked up at the messenger, “Please convey my… gratitude for Vice Admiral Zephyr’s ‘recognition’.”
…
West Blue, 133rd Branch Marine Port
The Branch Chief of the 133rd Branch, Branch Ensign Asahi, after completing the handover and watching the warship depart, turned his gaze to the thirty injured Marines at the port, including Gern.
“Damn it! When they requested support, they asked for 2,000 men… and now only this many are left!”
Asahi looked displeased, but he quickly spotted Gern, who had a sword on his back, among the thirty men.
There was no avoiding it; although Gern was 14, his height was already around 1.87 meters, and the long, bandage-wrapped sword on his back made him stand out like a crane among chickens.
“This guy… Hmmph!!” When Asahi saw Gern’s rank, his pupils constricted.
“You’ve been promoted from private second class to Branch Sergeant?! Gern!!”
Hearing Asahi’s words, Gern, who hadn’t expected the Branch Chief to recognize an unknown private second class like himself, could only give an embarrassed smile.
“Just good luck, Branch Chief Asahi. I also didn’t expect to be remembered by the Branch Chief…”
“You all go first.” Asahi directly dismissed the other Marines, then walked straight up to Gern.
“Chief Petty Officer Derrick…”
“He sacrificed himself at God Valley; the roster should have already been sent back to the Branch.”
“I know he’s dead! I’m asking if you received his survivor’s benefits?” Asahi chuckled, rubbing his fingers.
“Although I don’t know why he put your name down, but…”
Gern was too lazy to talk more with these corrupt individuals.
But then he thought that being promoted to a senior officer in the Branch meant he could independently command central missions.
If he wanted to be promoted back to Marineford later, he would definitely need a good “proof of loyalty,” and building good relationships to mobilize a warship would be convenient.
Besides, now that he had a Devil Fruit, he didn’t care for such small money; if he wanted money, he could just rob the mafias who lent him high-interest loans.
Thinking this, Gern simply nodded and said,
“Chief Petty Officer Derrick said before he sacrificed himself that Branch Chief Asahi had always taken care of him at the 133rd Branch, so he specifically asked me to give his survivor’s benefits to you…”
“Oh my! What are you saying?” Asahi laughed, then whispered, “Leave the money in my office, and I’ll make sure your future missions go smoothly.”
“Branch Chief…” Gern was a bit stunned to hear Asahi being so understanding.
“What kind of expression is that?! As Marines of the Branch, shouldn’t we be protecting the citizens?!”
“Really?”
“Fake… What are you thinking, you greenhorn who just got promoted to an officer? Sigh, I’ve seen too many!
If the warship gets a bit damaged, it’ll be easier for me to apply for a batch of funds from Marineford, won’t it?
Of course, if you sacrifice yourself, I won’t be polite with your survivor’s benefits either, hahaha!”