Grand Line – Marineford
A Navy warship docked steadily at the port. Then, with a heavy thud, a brawny Marine captain—well over three meters tall—leapt directly from the ship.
Bang! Bang!
As he fell like a cannonball toward the dock, the captain deftly stepped mid-air as if walking on solid ground, reducing most of the falling force before landing lightly on his feet.
Strangely, he carried a young boy in his arms, cradled in a princess carry.
"Lord Yahn, my apologies for transporting you to Marineford in such a manner," the captain said carefully.
With drooping eyelids and crooked glasses sliding down his nose, Yahn weakly muttered, "Captain Hope… put me down…"
"Yes, Lord Yahn." Captain Hope bent one knee and gently placed Yahn on the ground.
Yahn lazily raised his hands toward him. "The Seastone cuffs."
"Well… Fleet Admiral Sengoku strictly ordered that the cuffs are not to be removed until you're safely inside his office," Hope replied hesitantly.
"This is Marineford. Warships are everywhere. I'm not going anywhere. Unlock them," Yahn mumbled with an air of complete exhaustion.
"Still…" Hope's expression remained troubled.
Seeing this, Yahn sighed and said, "I don't want to meet that old man looking this pathetic. Come on, unlock them."
Finally persuaded, Captain Hope pulled out a key from his coat and unlocked the Seastone cuffs.
Clink.
As soon as the cuffs came off, Yahn's entire demeanor changed. His listless look vanished as he adjusted his glasses and gently massaged his wrists.
Those Seastone cuffs were just too draining.
After all, pretending to be half-dead and helpless was incredibly exhausting. It demanded perfect acting; even a careless twitch could blow the entire façade.
Hope didn't seem all that bright, but Yahn had stayed vigilant the entire trip just in case.
> "To gain Sengoku's complete trust, I can't afford to leave even the smallest crack.
Sigh... being someone's adopted son is such a pain…"
Yahn sighed inwardly as he turned his head. A breeze brushed his bangs aside, revealing bright eyes that locked onto the looming fortress in the distance—its structure reminiscent of a Japanese castle, with two bold characters emblazoned across its wall: Navy.
"So this is the Navy Headquarters…"
He murmured to himself.
It had been ten years since Yahn transmigrated to this world. He was rescued at sea by Sengoku, who took him in along with Corazon and raised them as his adopted sons just outside Marineford. This was Yahn's first time stepping foot into the fortress itself.
Beside him, Captain Hope spoke with visible pride.
"Yes, Lord Yahn. This is Marineford, the heart of the Navy—the symbol of peace and justice across the seas."
"Captain Hope," Yahn waved his hand. "I'm just a commoner. Don't call me 'Lord.' It might cause misunderstandings."
"I can't possibly do that!"
Captain Hope looked genuinely horrified.
"You're the son of Fleet Admiral Sengoku! You've contributed so much to the Navy—offering countless strategies and insights while neglecting your own cultivation. If someone like you doesn't deserve respect, then I, Hope—"
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Yahn cut him off mid-ramble, utterly drained.
"Call me whatever you want. But everything about my past is classified. Top-level secrets tied to the old man. You must never, ever tell anyone."
As he finished speaking, his expression grew dead serious—as if revealing such information meant certain death.
Captain Hope widened his eyes. His fists clenched tightly, producing sharp cracking sounds as he vowed with grave solemnity:
"Yes, I understand, Lord Yahn. I'll guard your secret with my life!"
Yahn gave a slight nod and said no more, letting Captain Hope lead the way toward Sengoku's office.
On the way, Yahn kept his head slightly lowered, widening the distance between himself and Hope to make it seem as though they were strangers merely heading in the same direction by coincidence.
And yet…
Glancing around from the corner of his eye, Yahn couldn't help but notice the sea of pristine white Navy uniforms surrounding him—while he, in contrast, wore plain black civilian clothes.
He was a blot of ink in a sea of white waves!
> "Too conspicuous! Damn that idiot Hope! He slapped those Seastone cuffs on me out of nowhere, didn't let me say a word, let alone change clothes—just tossed me on the warship like a sack of rice!"
At this point, Yahn felt like his very soul was about to split.
His life plan had always been clear: as long as he didn't possess absolute strength to protect himself, he had no intention of exposing himself beneath the eyes of the World Government.
Until he could survive an ambush from the future "Three Admirals"—Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji—he only wanted to hide under Sengoku's protective shadow and play the role of a sickly second-generation military brat.
For years, he had delayed Sengoku's attempts to recruit him into active Navy service, trying to convince the old man that he was nothing more than a deadbeat layabout.
But now, his careful scheming had been undone—by none other than the ever-smiling, bumbling Captain Hope.
> "What a disaster…
I should've known this day would come. I'm sixteen already. Corazon's been out on missions for ages. The old man couldn't put it off any longer, huh?"
Yahn shook his head, pushed down his frustration, and began to consider how to act when facing Sengoku in person.
Should he act arrogant? Kick the desk and act like a rebellious "devoted son"?
Or should he be polite? Greet the old man with humility and grace, like a proper devoted son?
> Never mind. Better to stick with the sickly act.
If things get awkward, I'll just fake a dizzy spell. Seasick, airsick, milk-sick—whatever works."
Knock, knock!
After a long walk and drawing the attention of more than a few curious Marines, Hope finally stopped in front of an office door. He knocked respectfully and announced loudly:
"Reporting to Fleet Admiral Sengoku! I've brought Lord Yahn as ordered!"
"Let him in," came the deep, commanding voice from inside.
Hope's face flushed with excitement as he responded enthusiastically, "Yes, sir!"
Yahn could only sigh and pushed open the door himself.
The Navy Admiral's office wasn't lavish. In fact, it was simple and utilitarian. But the man behind the desk, with his frog-shaped glasses and signature braided beard, radiated overwhelming authority.
This was none other than the future Fleet Admiral himself—
Buddha Sengoku.
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Currently at chapter 10 on Ko-Fi
https:// ko-fi.com/sami27