Chapter 74: Misunderstanding
Tsuru's sharp command put an abrupt end to the chaos.
Even though Axel had barely managed to break free before the final line of defense collapsed, he still looked miserable. His uniform had been tugged and torn in several places, and the exposed skin on his arms and neck bore faint scratches and red marks. A few of them had even started to bruise.
At this stage, his reflection still could not fully repel attacks coated in Armament Haki.
As for what exactly had happened a moment ago, Axel chose not to think about it.
Or rather, he refused to.
The memory was too horrifying.
He swept his gaze across the deck, but the moment it landed on the broad shouldered female Marine leading the charge, he immediately averted his eyes and turned toward Tsuru instead. In Axel's opinion, this had to be intentional. Aside from that one careless joke at the beginning, he had never done anything to offend her. Yet ever since then, Tsuru seemed oddly content to let him suffer just a little.
Fortunately, once Tsuru spoke, the women on the ship restrained themselves. Their eyes were still dangerous, but at least their hands stopped moving.
That alone gave Axel an enormous sense of relief.
After that ridiculous uproar, life aboard Tsuru's ship changed.
But not in the way Axel expected.
Tsuru gave him orders every day, yet those orders had nothing to do with direct combat training. If not for one specific instruction, Axel might have thought she was deliberately making fun of him.
He was assigned to do chores alongside the male support staff.
And Tsuru added one sentence that made the whole thing impossible to dismiss.
"Do not use your ability."
That line alone convinced Axel there was some deeper purpose behind all of it. So although he was confused, he still carried out each task properly.
Washing clothes.
Mopping decks.
Cleaning storage rooms.
Helping move supplies.
Organizing tools.
Running errands back and forth across the ship.
Aside from that, Tsuru occasionally tested his power, mostly checking its range, accuracy, and the way it interacted with different forms of force. Those tests were at least related to combat.
As for the rest...
It was work. Honest, exhausting, endless work.
And there was still one fixed routine every day.
Being hung out like laundry.
By now Axel had developed a strange psychological reaction to the sight of a clothesline. Every time he passed one, he felt an indescribable discomfort, as if his soul itself had started sweating.
Time passed quickly.
Before he realized it, two months had gone by.
At that moment, Axel was sitting on a small stool in front of a washbasin, holding a freshly washed piece of women's clothing in one hand. He stared at it in silence for a long moment, then let out a long, exhausted sigh.
In those two months, the female Marines, under Tsuru's direct orders, had stopped openly surrounding and attacking him.
But that did not mean they had become normal.
Their approach had merely... evolved.
Now they used subtler methods.
For example, every day someone would bring Axel a bundle of personal laundry to wash. The excuse was always simple. Since he was already helping with ship chores, there was no harm in adding a little more.
Axel had no way to refuse without making a scene.
As a result, the other male support staff had started looking at him with increasingly complex expressions.
Envy.
Jealousy.
Resentment.
And the vague sense that he had somehow stolen an impossible amount of fortune from the heavens.
At first, Axel thought they were decent enough.
After finding out what kind of thoughts they were actually having, he silently put distance between himself and all of them.
They were not wrong to be jealous.
But they were definitely wrong to think he was enjoying this.
He wrung the last piece of clothing dry, set it into the basin, then stood and carried the entire load out onto the deck.
The clothesline was stretched between sections of the mast. It had already become one of Vice Admiral Tsuru's ship's most recognizable features, second only to the giant character for "Tsuru" painted prominently on the vessel itself.
Today, as usual, the line already held a mix of ordinary clothes and uniforms fluttering in the sea breeze.
And, occasionally, people.
Though among all those who had ever been hung there, Axel remained the most regular victim.
Carrying the basin, he walked over and began pinning the damp clothes one by one onto the line.
Once he was done, he stepped toward the bow and looked out over the water.
Not far away lay a small island.
A dock jutted out from the shoreline, and farther inland stood a modest town built on higher ground, probably to avoid the reach of rough tides. From this distance it looked peaceful enough.
Tsuru and part of the crew had gone ashore more than an hour earlier.
Before leaving, one female Marine had casually mentioned that they were heading out to capture a pirate group. Given Tsuru's style, Axel knew this would not take too long unless something unexpected happened. This was only the North Blue. Unless they somehow ran into a force on the level of Germa 66, there was little reason for concern.
During these past months, Axel had already witnessed how frighteningly efficient Tsuru was.
She never moved blindly.
Every pirate hunt was planned in advance. She would analyze routes, calculate escape patterns, arrange blockades, and turn entire regions into controlled nets. She used maps, intelligence, timing, and military coordination so cleanly that her operations often looked less like battles and more like inevitable conclusions.
She would build a network on paper, report it back to Marine Headquarters, then coordinate personnel to reinforce and maintain it.
Her structure was nearly flawless.
Nearly.
Because even Tsuru could not control the ugliest variable of all.
Human nature.
No matter how perfect a system was, if the Marines stationed to enforce it were corrupt, cowardly, or selfish, then holes would form in the net. In the end, the most carefully crafted strategy could still be ruined by the hearts of the people carrying it out.
That, perhaps, was the real source of Tsuru's fatigue.
Just as Axel was lost in thought, movement appeared on the island.
He narrowed his eyes.
Tsuru and the others were returning.
Not long after, they boarded the ship with their prisoners.
Dozens of pirates were marched onto the deck in rough condition. Most were dirty, ragged, and unshaven, their faces marked with scars, grime, and despair. Their expressions were dull, but it was clear they already understood what awaited them.
Prison.
Or death.
And yet, even in such a pitiful state, many of them still wore disgusting looks in their eyes. As they passed the female Marines escorting them, some could not stop themselves from glancing over with naked lust and filth.
One of them, while being shoved forward, noticed Axel standing by the bow.
His eyes lit up with a particularly unpleasant gleam.
The man stared at him without restraint.
That was enough.
Axel's eyes turned cold.
An icy, razor sharp aura burst from him in an instant.
He did not move.
He did not even raise a hand.
But the pirate's bound arm, pinned behind his back, suddenly twisted at the elbow in a direction no human joint should ever bend. It was not fully broken, but it bent far enough to make the shape grotesque.
The pirate dropped to his knees with a scream.
The cry was so shrill it cut through the entire deck.
The female Marines nearby reacted at once. They clearly felt that his punishment alone was too light, so two of them stepped forward and kicked the man hard in the ribs before hauling him back upright.
Tsuru frowned slightly.
"Axel."
Her voice was not loud, but it carried.
At the same time, she gave the women a look.
The female Marines immediately saluted and stopped.
Axel stuck out his tongue very slightly, then picked up the empty basin and walked toward Tsuru.
"I need to talk to you."
Tsuru glanced at him, then said, "Come to my room in half an hour."
He nodded.
That was enough.
Without wasting any more words, Axel took the basin and returned below deck.
The pirates who had watched what happened became noticeably more restrained afterward. Their gazes no longer wandered as freely as before. Some of them even lowered their heads altogether.
Whatever else they might be, they were not idiots.
Anyone who could twist an arm like that without moving was not someone to provoke twice.
Half an hour later, Axel arrived outside Tsuru's room exactly on time.
He had already learned one thing very clearly aboard this ship.
Tsuru valued punctuality.
When she said half an hour, she meant half an hour. Not a minute earlier. Not a minute later.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Come in."
Her voice came from inside, calm and even.
Axel pushed open the door and entered.
Tsuru was seated at the table, looking directly at him.
"What is it?"
Axel did not circle around the issue.
"It is about training. Is doing all this really useful for improving strength?"
That question had been sitting in his chest for a long time.
Two months was not a short period. Yet in those two months, aside from becoming far more skilled at chores, Axel had not felt any meaningful increase in combat ability. His calculations had become more refined through constant discipline, yes. His control over precision had improved.
But his physical development had largely stalled.
And as far as direct battle power went, he could not see what scrubbing floors and washing laundry had to do with becoming stronger.
Tsuru listened without interruption.
Then she lifted her teacup and took a slow, quiet sip.
Finally, she answered.
"It is useless."
Axel froze.
That answer hit him harder than if she had insulted him.
Two months of labor, dismissed with three words.
He felt a rush of frustration rise into his throat. If anyone else had said that after making him work like a servant for two whole months, Axel might have exploded on the spot.
But Tsuru's Devil Fruit had one particularly infuriating effect on him. Each daily "drying" session seemed to wash away the sharpest edges of his anger. He could still feel dissatisfaction, but he could not erupt the way he normally would.
It was like being forced to sit politely inside your own irritation.
Tsuru set the cup down and looked at him.
"Take off your clothes."
Axel blinked. "Huh?"
"Take off your clothes," Tsuru repeated in the same calm tone.
This time he heard it clearly.
Without hesitation, Axel started undressing.
Not because he was particularly obedient.
But because after two months under Tsuru, he had learned one painful truth.
When she said something that sounded unreasonable, it usually meant there was a reason behind it. Resisting first and asking questions later only made things more troublesome.
So he reached for his uniform.
At that exact moment, the door swung open.
Clang!
A female Marine had come in to report on the pirates. The documents in her hand slipped from her grasp and scattered across the floor.
She stared at the scene in front of her.
Tsuru seated calmly behind the desk.
Axel halfway through taking off his clothes.
The room fell silent.
The woman's face turned bright red.
Then she snapped to attention, bowed so fast she nearly hit her head, and blurted, "Excuse me!"
Before either of them could say a word, she turned and ran out of the room at full speed.
The door slammed shut behind her.
.....
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