"Alright, alright, you can put me down now!"
"Any more tossing around and my bones are gonna fall apart, damn it!"
The enthusiasm of his subordinates was truly overwhelming. Nao felt like a kangaroo, bouncing up and down in place for a good five or six minutes, before they finally let him down.
"You guys…"
He shot a helpless glare at the sheepish Marines around him. Taking the jacket offered by his aide, he threw it over his shoulders, stood up straight, and issued his orders in a steady voice:
"Clean up the battlefield as soon as possible. We move out and return to base before nightfall."
"Yes, Rear Admiral!"
The thunderous response echoed all around him.
Clearly, after this battle, Nao's prestige among them had risen to a whole new level—revered almost like a god.
Just as the Marines began dispersing, a sharp-eyed marine suddenly shouted in surprise:
"Huh?! What's that?!"
Everyone—including Nao—turned to look.
In the distant sky, a flash of golden light streaked toward them like a meteor, tearing through the wind at blinding speed.
"That speed… what is it?!"
"Something's coming this way!"
Panic swept over the troops. Many instinctively raised their rifles and took aim at the approaching streak of light.
But Nao raised a hand to stop them. He gazed upward, eyes filled with surprise and a trace of amusement.
If he remembered right, Borsalino had written in his last letter that he'd only just entered the West Blue a couple of days ago.
So what's he doing here already, and alone?
POP!
The golden light exploded outward and faded, revealing Kizaru—Borsalino—landing gracefully on the ground.
Nao strode forward and gave him a big, grinning hug.
"Long time no see, Borsalino-san! I've missed you! What brings you here?"
Hmm. Hugging him didn't take much effort anymore.
Sure enough, compared to when he was at G-2 Branch last year, the average height difference between him and the future Three Admirals had significantly shrunk. He was only about half a Chopper's length shorter now.
"No need for pleasantries, Nao."
Kizaru didn't look pleased. His breathing was uneven, and his gaze swept over the devastated ruins of the town.
"I came on emergency orders from Headquarters to provide support… Good to see you're okay. Where's the Drought?"
Something was off.
Where were the Beasts Pirates? Not a single one in sight.
Did Dugalio somehow get advance warning that reinforcements were coming and retreat before the fight escalated?
"Oh, that?"
Nao shrugged and gestured toward a distant part of the harbor.
"Over there, see for yourself."
"Huh?"
Kizaru turned—and froze.
A group of Marines was hauling a massive, bloodied body onto the rear deck of a ship, tying it down with thick chains.
Covered in wounds. Unconscious.
Who else could it be?
Dugalio.
"…"
Kizaru stood dumbfounded. His jaw dropped as he slowly turned back to stare at Nao, disbelief written all over his face.
"You… you actually defeated the Drought?!"
Honestly—
Nao had known the old man a while, but this was the first time he'd ever seen him so utterly shocked.
"I got lucky, that's all," Nao said with an awkward grin, scratching his head.
"Lucky? You fought him head-on for three days and three nights and came out on top. That's not luck, kid."
Kizaru's eyes scanned the scars across Nao's bare chest, and he let out a low whistle.
"Didn't expect this at all… In just half a year, your strength's grown this much…"
That was Dugalio, after all—one of the Three Calamities of the Beasts Pirates.
Forget beating him—even going toe-to-toe with a monster of his caliber for several days straight… There weren't many vice admirals in Marine Headquarters who could say they'd done the same.
Even Kizaru himself—Commander of G-2—knew that taking down someone as absurdly durable as Dugalio would be no walk in the park.
Truthfully?
Nao was now easily among the top-tier Vice admirals.
He'd officially stepped into the ranks of the Marine's strongest frontline combatants.
"The new generation is downright terrifying…"
Kizaru sighed, then gave Nao a mock-annoyed glare.
"Still, your face seems to have gotten thicker too. How many times do I have to tell you—don't overdo the false modesty?"
The two chatted for a few more moments before Kizaru's gaze drifted toward the far side of the sea.
"What's wrong, Vice Admiral?"
Morning mist blanketed the ocean, making it hard to see the distant waves. Nao squinted in confusion.
"Looks like I'm not the only one worried about you, kid…"
Kizaru muttered, patting Nao's shoulder with a knowing grin.
"Go on. You two lovebirds probably want a moment alone. I won't get in the way. The royal family of Vegeta—er, I mean Vegeta Kingdom—is still waiting for me. See you next time."
And with that, he turned into a golden beam and shot back into the sky, vanishing amid the gasps of dozens of Marines.
Always in a hurry, that guy…
Nao watched the streak of light fade in the sky, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his eyes.
Kizaru had played it cool from start to finish.
But Nao wasn't stupid.
The exhaustion hidden at the corners of the old man's eyes made it clear—he'd likely ditched his ship and flashed across the ocean all night long just to check on him.
Thanks, sir.
Oh, and—
I take it back. From now on, I won't joke about you being a Revolutionary Army spy anymore.
He made that mental note with a wry smile.
After straightening his hair, buttoning his shirt, and draping the coat of justice over his shoulders, Nao turned to face the shoreline.
There—through the mist—he saw a figure approaching fast, leaping over the waves with Geppo.
After Kizaru's warning, there was no need to guess.
He already knew who it was.
"So she ditched the ship too and came ahead on her own?"
Nao smiled faintly, raising his arms in anticipation of a heartfelt reunion.
"I'm touched, Rear Admiral…"
THUD!
A second later, he was tackled full force by Gion, who couldn't stop in time.
He flew through the air like a ragdoll, letting out a shriek as he was sent flying…
...
Marine Headquarters – Marineford
Another emergency high-level meeting was underway.
After finishing discussion on matters related to the upcoming Reverie, the focus shifted again—this time, from protecting the attending royals to a certain rising Rear admiral.
Nao.
For the past two days—
The remote and insignificant Rhodes Island in the West Blue had felt like the string that held everything together.
Admiral Sengoku and the other top brass had been deeply preoccupied, unable to rest, constantly requesting updates from the frontlines.
"Any word from Borsalino?"
Sengoku sipped his tea and turned toward Rear Admiral Dalmatian a few seats down.
"Based on the timeline, he should be arriving at Rhode Island about now, right?"
Dalmatian, still holding the rank of rear admiral—same as when he had visited Zephyr during the Elite Camp incident—was considered one of the most reliable and grounded younger officers.
Because of his calm personality and competence, he was often granted special permission to sit in on high-level meetings as a key future pillar of the Marines.
"Reports say Borsalino-sama ignored the risks and went ahead alone," Dalmatian said gravely, shaking his head.
"But there's been no follow-up transmission yet. It's possible things over there… aren't looking good."