Strolling through the empty corridor, cradling the three confiscated famous swords in her arms, Tashigi was in an unimaginably wonderful mood.
"Wado Ichimonji, Yubashiri, Sandai Kitetsu."
"I really didn't expect Rear Admiral Alan to give these three swords directly to me. My, my, even though her personality is usually quite dreadful, she's actually a great superior who truly cares for her subordinates!"
"Fortunately, Captain Smoker didn't make me go with him on that emergency mission. Otherwise, I would have missed out on these treasures completely! Hehehe~~~"
The expression on this sword-obsessed female Marine's face—whose loyalty could easily be bought with a legendary blade—completely transformed from the dejection she felt upon learning of the White Hunter's unannounced departure. Instead, a flush of excitement colored her cheeks, and her footsteps felt light and airy.
Not only that, but Tashigi even began to calculate in her mind: If I were to become Rear Admiral Alan's adjutant and could regularly confiscate famous swords, then even if this loli commander loves to play pranks on people, it wouldn't be completely unacceptable...
Ahem, who knows what the distant White Hunter would think if he found out about this.
It was now close to noon. Most of the Marine soldiers had already headed to the cafeteria for their meal, and Tashigi planned to grab lunch right after safely storing these three legendary swords away.
However, the blue-haired Marine was about to unfortunately experience firsthand what it meant for extreme joy to turn into sorrow.
As if tripped by an invisible rope, Tashigi suddenly lost her balance. With a sharp gasp, this clumsy klutz executed a textbook-perfect trip on flat ground. The three famous swords clattered across the floor, and her glasses flew far out of reach.
"Hiss—— Ow, that hurts... Huh? My glasses? Where are my glasses?!"
Kneeling on the floor, Tashigi grimaced as she fumbled around blindly for her glasses. Given the severity of her nearsightedness, taking off her glasses made her practically blind.
But just as the female Marine found herself in this predicament, a gentle, magnetic, and clear male voice suddenly rang out from the side.
"Here, your glasses."
"Ah! Thank you so much!"
Without her glasses, Tashigi could only see a blurry black silhouette. She happily took the glasses, put them on, and the world in front of her instantly snapped into sharp focus.
"Thank you so much! I can't see anything without my glasses, you really are..."
Tashigi had intended to express her heartfelt gratitude to this kind soul, but the moment she got a clear look at his face, the expression on her face froze completely.
Deep black eyes, silver-rimmed glasses, an elegant and calm aura, and a pitch-black trench coat...
The only detail about the man before her that didn't match Tashigi's memory was his hair, which appeared to have been highlighted into a very fashionable blend of silver and black streaks.
"Oh? Did I startle you? My, my, I do apologize."
Sherlock gave Tashigi a slight bow, offering an elegant courtesy to show his apology. Then, looking at the clumsy Marine's face, which was written all over with astonishment, the corners of his lips curved upward.
"Considering our glasses are of the same brand, I wonder if I might trouble you for a brief moment of your time? My beautiful Marine miss."
Glancing down at the three swords scattered on the floor that originally belonged to a certain green-haired swordsman, the Sorcerer gently pushed up his glasses, the translucent lenses reflecting two chilling flashes of white light.
"I have quite a few questions I'd like to ask you."
Meanwhile, the kitchen of Navarone Fortress was filled with a thick scent of gunpowder.
(Hey, hey, hey, did these idiot chefs misunderstand something?)
Staring at the crowd of chefs glaring furiously at him and a certain Straw Hat idiot, Sanji secretly groaned in his heart. He scanned the kitchen environment, his mind working calmly.
(But fortunately, they haven't recognized Luffy's and my true identities yet. Furthermore—)
(The head chef here is absolutely gorgeous!~~~~~) The curly-browed cook thought, a look of pure infatuation washing over his face.
"Cut the crap!"
The dimwitted captain, who was also dressed in a chef's uniform, didn't show a single trace of the cowardice one ought to have when deep inside a Marine base. Instead, he hollered righteously and loudly:
"You guys are all chefs, right? Then hurry up and cook! My stomach is growling, I want to eat meat! Lots and lots of meat!"
As he spoke, Luffy wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. Having gone without food for most of the day, the Straw Hat Pirates' number one glutton was already so hungry that his eyes were practically glowing green.
"Mm, you're right. A battle between us chefs has never been decided by mere talk."
The beautiful, blonde female head chef seemed to have misunderstood something. Her charming, upturned eyes cast a deep glance at Luffy, then shifted to a certain infatuated cook who was still in a daze, as she declared solemnly:
"In that case, let's have a cooking competition!"
Jessica looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. "The first wave of soldiers will arrive here to eat in less than half an hour. We'll let them be the judges."
"I'd like to see what kind of master skills you two 'Headquarters chefs'—who only know how to waste funding—actually have up your sleeves!"
"Oh? A culinary showdown between chefs?"
Hearing this, Sanji actually snapped out of his infatuated state all on his own—a rare occurrence. He leisurely pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, exhaled a smoke ring, and grinned.
"Interesting."
Leaving this pirate version of Shokugeki no Soma aside for now.
Meanwhile, at the Navarone Fortress dockyard, an "expired loli" with twin tails and mismatched black-and-white hair had rushed over in a flurry after dumping a certain green-haired swordsman onto some other Marines.
"Hey, Beardy, have you seen a guy with a long nose around here or what?"
"A long nose? Can't say I have."
The heavily bearded old shipwright packed his tools back into his toolbox and shook his head earnestly. "I've been repairing ships here all morning, and I haven't seen the man you're talking about."
"Is that so?" Rear Admiral Alan clicked her tongue.
"Then why did that Marine just tip us off saying there was a suspicious fellow lurking around here? Tsk, that guy Jonathan..."
No longer dwelling on the issue, the twin-tailed loli glanced at the ship the bearded old shipwright had been working on earlier, then pulled a cigar out of her pocket.
"By the way, Beardy, why are you repairing this ship?"
Gently exhaling a smoke ring, Alan pointed at the fully overhauled Going Merry and asked in confusion, "Isn't this a pirate ship?"
"A pirate ship? So what? I'm a shipwright," the old shipwright replied with a hearty, open laugh.
"If it flies a skull flag, it's a pirate ship; if it flies a seagull flag, it's a Marine battleship. But no matter what, a ship is a ship, and if it needs fixing, it gets fixed."
"Seeing a battered ship sitting in the dockyard makes me uncomfortable all over!"
(You've got OCD, haven't you? Are you a Virgo or something?) Alan silently complained.
"This is a magnificent ship!" Patting the wooden planks of the Merry with his rough, calloused hands, the bearded shipwright said with deep admiration:
"Though her design is a bit dated, in all my years of repairing ships, this is the first time I've ever seen one so resilient. Just looking at the scars all over her hull, I can easily imagine that she must have been through many adventures beyond an ordinary person's wildest dreams!"
Alan gave a noncommittal nod upon hearing this. Indeed, a ship capable of riding the Knock Up Stream all the way to Skypiea and returning safely to the Blue Sea... it would probably be hard to find a second one like it in the entire Grand Line.
"And that's not even the most astonishing part."
Stroking his beard, this highly professional old shipwright spoke slowly:
"What amazes me the most is that, according to that long-nosed lad's description, this little vessel might very well have already manifested a [Klabautermann]! ...Eh?"
The outspoken old shipwright's expression instantly froze. He hurriedly clamped his hand over his mouth, sweat pouring down his face as he looked nervously at the loli Rear Admiral.
(A Klabautermann??!!)
However, Alan didn't pay the old shipwright any attention at all. It was as if she had suddenly been struck by a freezing spell, standing rooted to the spot, completely motionless, utterly oblivious even as her beloved cigar slipped from her fingers.
(Who would have thought... Who would have thought that I'd find the 'perfect experimental material' Vegapunk mentioned so quickly?)
Staring at the Going Merry's adorable, dopey figurehead, a light as scorching as molten magma flared within Rear Admiral Alan's amber right eye.
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