"Look, I'm just saying—at least I was being kind enough to bring you kids to the Grand Line… and you all ran off pretty fast, didn't you?"
Michael ruffled his niece's pink head with a smile and went on,
"But well done. Since you're still underage, putting your own safety first is the right choice… especially when it comes to someone like Red-Hair. Just leave him behind."
"Hey, hey, hey! Is that really how you should be teaching kids!? You're a Marine! Shouldn't you at least let them understand what loyalty and camaraderie mean?"
Though his body was covered in wounds, Red-Haired Shanks, having relaxed completely after taking Michael's strike, grumbled from the side.
The officers of the Red-Haired Pirates stood by, dark lines across their faces as they watched.
A pirate scolding a Marine for poor child-rearing values…
What kind of scene was this!?
"My review is—stop meddling with my family." Michael raised a brow. "But you're pretty tough. Covered in injuries and you can still move around."
"That's the perk of starting young." Shanks shrugged. "I was just nine years old when I started as an apprentice on Roger's ship!"
"Illiteracy isn't something worth bragging about."
Getting on a pirate ship at nine years old—of course you'd end up an illiterate fool!
And while they spoke, Crocodile and Stella descended from the sky onto the deck.
The sudden arrival of sand and clouds left the Red-Haired crew momentarily stunned.
Wait, since when did the Marines have two more Logia users?
And wasn't the Sand-Sand Fruit supposed to belong to that Crocodile, the one who'd been making a name for himself on the Grand Line not long ago?
So how did that ability end up with this tall, blue-haired lady in a white suit and fur-lined cloak!?
Then…
Crocodile must have already died.
And in fact, for the past six months, no one had heard a single word about him.
"Vice Admiral Michael, what's next?" Crocodile raised a brow. "Shall we take them all back in chains?"
"You've really been enjoying yourself catching pirates lately, haven't you? Don't say I didn't warn you—look at them now, pathetic as they seem, that's only because I'm here… If it were just you two, you really wouldn't be a match for this crew." Michael shook his head. "You two watch over the kids… I've got a few words I need to say to this captain of theirs."
Without another word, he dragged the still-bleeding Shanks into the cabin.
"Tch! Can't you be a little gentler?" Shanks said with a bitter face. "You called me in here—of course I'd follow. Was there really any need to grab me?"
"Enough chatter."
Michael shot him a glance, then got straight to the point:
"Right now, I've got seven recruitment slots in hand, to enlist seven collaborators under the name of the Seven Warlords of the Sea… and I think you're the perfect fit."
"Hah? Seven Warlords of the Sea?" Shanks scratched his head. "What's that supposed to be?"
"Pirates who work alongside the Marines. I can give you the right to enter and leave any port city openly, the right to hunt down pirates and exchange their bounties. And you won't be wanted. Even if you were, from the day you become a Warlord, your bounty will be sealed… Of course, if you dare to endanger civilians, I'll revoke all those privileges immediately…"
"And then personally take your head and hang it in the center of the city where you committed the crime."
Listening to Michael's explanation, Shanks was more and more stunned.
What was this supposed to mean?
Was it like partnering with Whitebeard's crew, seeing the benefits, and now trying the same trick again?
Pulling some pirates in, then using them to strike down the rest—such a ruthless tactic.
But Red-Hair didn't care about that.
His goal was to rely on himself and his crew to become Pirate King.
What happened to the other pirates? Not his problem.
"I'm interested." Shanks thought it over for a moment, then nodded. "Becoming a Warlord… really would be convenient."
"Oh? Really?"
Michael was actually surprised.
He hadn't expected Shanks to agree so readily, to openly accept becoming one of the Seven Warlords.
He'd even prepared a whole speech to persuade him.
"That means you'll be standing against every other pirate out there, you know."
"So what? My goal is to become Pirate King…" Shanks grinned, a streak of arrogance in his smile that faintly carried Roger's spirit. "I was going to be their enemy anyway!"
"Is that so… then good."
Michael nodded, then pulled out a formal Warlord appointment document.
"Sign it. Within seven days, your name will spread across the seas."
Shanks had no pen, so he simply pressed a hand into his bleeding wound, then stamped it on the paper without hesitation.
When he was done, he lifted his head.
In his eyes, there was no fighting spirit, no hatred—only questions searching for the truth.
"Can you tell me… why the captain disbanded Roger's crew after reaching Laugh Tale?"
"And also, what exactly did you help him with, that he entrusted 'Ace' to you?"
A mysterious smile tugged at the corner of Michael's lips.
"You… really want to know?"
"Of course."
"Then are you ready for the weight you'll have to bear once you learn the truth?"
...
Michael and Shanks remained inside the cabin for a long time—long enough that the kids outside couldn't sit still anymore, itching to sneak over and eavesdrop on their secret plotting.
Just as Sanji broke through the group blocking him and charged toward the cabin door, it suddenly swung open. A hand shot out, grabbing him up in an instant.
It was his dear uncle, with his pair of large and small wings.
"Uwah! What on earth were you two talking about in there? It took forever!"
"Tch, don't be so curious. At your age you should be focusing on school, training, and maybe working on improving that disgusting cooking of yours."
"Who are you calling disgusting! Don't slander my food!"
"Tch, I hate to say it, but every time your sister eats your cooking, she spends a while looking like her soul left her body… Your cooking is something else. I'm half tempted to list it as a Marine weapon."
Michael grinned at Sanji.
Then, ignoring the boy's struggles, he waved to Stella and Crocodile and headed toward the snail ship.
"See you around."
"The Seven Warlords of the Sea—Red-Haired Shanks."
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