Ritter had finally set out on the road back home. Truth be told, he was still feeling a bit drained. He had been away for far too long this time, and his "vacation" had turned into an extended disappearance. Still, he had gained something from it. His Observation Haki wasn't exactly sharper in precision, but his instincts had grown keener and wasn't intuition just another form of progress?
Back at the headquarters of the Blood Dawn Pirates, however, the mood was suffocating. In the conference room, the air pressure was so heavy it could have been wrung out like wet cloth.
Tesoro sat at the head of the table, chin resting lazily on his palm, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm against the wood.
Behind him stood Stella, her smile as gentle as ever, but the faint trace of black energy clinging to it was terrifying. "If the captain doesn't return soon," she said sweetly, "this batch of documents might 'accidentally' end up swallowed by a Sea King."
There weren't many people alive who could force someone as patient as Stella into this state. Ritter alone held that dubious honor. After all, the Blood Dawn Pirates had just absorbed two massive underground organizations. Even with Tesoro working around the clock for over a month, the paperwork and personnel deployments seemed endless. Putting down riots, reorganizing trade routes, stabilizing influence all of it fell onto his shoulders during this most chaotic period.
Tesoro had originally insisted Ritter take a short break. After all, most of these plans were Ritter's ideas, and the crew had wanted him to rest for a few days. What they hadn't expected was just how shameless their captain could be.
Ever since his last call through the Den Den Mushi, Ritter had treated his break as if it were permanent retirement.
"I'm only doing this because I trust you all," Ritter had said cheerfully, "The future company won't shortchange its founding members. You are my wings, every single one of you."
Enel lay sprawled on the couch, sparks of lightning dancing across his head. "This god has run thirty-seven outposts! Thirty-seven! And that bastard is still playing with kids on Amazon Lily?!"
Lina, dwarfed by a stack of ledgers taller than herself, whispered weakly, "The captain did say… 'Those who can do more, should do more.'"
"Those who can do more?" Tesoro's laugh was sharp as broken glass. He slammed the table and stood. "Then why doesn't he come back here and do it himself? Last week's trade treaty, the construction of our new East Blue base, even the so-called 'friendly exchanges' with the Navy they all landed on me!"
Tesoro's anger wasn't because Ritter refused to work, but because he feared his captain might become detached from the true state of their forces. Ritter's mind was unparalleled for strategy, but if he didn't keep up to date, their long-term plans could suffer.
If Ritter had been there, he probably would have thrown an arm over Tesoro's shoulder and said, "You underestimate yourself, Tesoro. With your ability, keeping this place afloat isn't even difficult."
Yes, Tesoro was their "mother," constantly worrying that no one else had eaten enough.
The door burst open. Ritter poked his head in, grinning like a child sneaking into class late. "Yo, everyone's here! What a fine weath "
"Shut the door. Release Enel!" Tesoro barked.
"Two Hundred Million Volts: Resentment Discharge!" Enel roared.
"Wait, wait! I brought souvenirs GAAAHHHH!"
Ten minutes later, Ritter was forced into a chair, his once-neat hair puffed up like a mushroom cloud from the electrocution.
Tesoro dropped a towering stack of papers onto the desk with a heavy thud. "Sign."
Ritter squirmed. "Actually, I was thinking… we could split up the work "
"Sign." Tesoro's tone was calm, his smile calm, his eyes anything but.
Stella, all polite sweetness, offered Ritter a cup of coffee. "Division of labor? Captain, while you were gone, Tesoro has been working on three hours of sleep each night."
Enel leaned close, his voice dripping with menace. "Do you know what it feels like for a god to work overtime?"
The only one missing from this complaint session was Moria. He was too busy in his workshop, happily stitching together more zombies.
"…," Ritter muttered, unable to refute any of it.
Later that night, Ritter crept through the port, his footsteps as soft as a thief's. But just as he was about to slip aboard a dinghy, golden light flared behind him.
Tesoro's voice was silk and steel. "You're not planning on 'suddenly remembering something urgent,' are you?"
Ritter froze. Behind Tesoro, dozens of golden spears hovered menacingly in the air.
Tesoro's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Say the word 'escape' and I'll skewer you where you stand."
Ritter chuckled nervously. "Hahaha, escape? Me? No, no… I was just going for a walk."
"A walk?" Enel's face appeared out of a thundercloud, grinning. "Would you like a god to escort you?"
Stella's voice was soft as a lullaby. "Captain, we've prepared a bed for you in the records room. You'll find it convenient."
Looking around at his crew's expressions, Ritter realized they hadn't gone home at all. They were all watching him. He forced a laugh. "…You guys really know how to touch my heart."
And so Ritter endured several months of "happy" days buried under documents.
By the end, his resentment was so thick it could have been bottled. He joked that he could devour ten Celestial Dragons in a single sitting just to vent his anger.
Finally, Tesoro handed him another folder. "This one might interest you. It's a report suggesting a possible location for Morgans. None of our agents have pinned down his true headquarters, but this could be worth investigating."
At the mention of Morgans, Ritter shot to his feet as if electrified. "Good! Good! Good! That damn bird! I finally caught a trail."
While drowning in paperwork, Ritter had been itching for this very chance. He'd approved every other expedition, but Morgans' hideout had always eluded them. Now the news bird had become the perfect target for all his pent-up rage.
The Blumarine Jackson sailed at full speed across the Grand Line. Every dial, every sail strained at maximum. Anyone could tell their captain was furious.
When the ship finally reached the island rumored to house Morgans' secret base, Ritter stood proudly at the bow. Blood mist curled around him, his eyes sharp as blades.
"The intel says Morgans has a hidden outpost here," Tesoro said, flipping through the papers. "But the exact location is still uncertain."
Enel yawned. "Why not just sweep the place with my mantra? Instant result."
Ritter shook his head. "That old bird is cunning. He'll have countermeasures against Observation Haki."
Then his lips curled into a grin. "Which means we'll have to make a personal visit. Honestly, I need the exercise after all that paperwork."
He kicked open the door of a shabby wooden building labeled World's Greatest Newspaper. Dust rained from the rafters.
"Anyone home?" Ritter asked cheerfully.
The place looked more like an abandoned print shop than the headquarters of the world's biggest news network. Still, sometimes you had to check even the smallest leads.
Inside, a few terrified News Coo flapped frantically in their cages. In the corner, a scrawny man with glasses fumbled to shove a pile of documents under his desk.
With a flick of blood mist, Ritter hauled the man into the air. "Busy, are we?"
"P-please don't kill me!" the man stammered. "I'm just a humble paper-seller!"
Tesoro picked up the sheet he had been hiding. "'Shocking! Admiral Aokiji caught napping during duty, allegedly by mysterious intruders'… This is what you call journalism?"
The man chuckled nervously. "Times are hard. Gotta make a living somehow…"
Ritter's eyes narrowed. "You're not Morgans."
"Of course not! Call me the Grand Historian of Gossip," the man said proudly, though his knees shook.
Enel sneered. "Then why the sign outside?"
"Uh… branding. Makes us look legit," the man muttered.
The crew pressed him further, and finally the trembling gossip-monger led them deeper into the island. This time, they stumbled upon something real.
Inside a dimly lit office, feathers scattered across the floor, a giant bird hunched over a typewriter. His claws clacked against the keys at lightning speed as he muttered gleefully, "Breaking news! Ritter, the captain of Blood Dawn, suspected of having a scandalous relationship with Dark King Rayleigh! Hahaha, this will sell millions "
A chill ran down his spine.
"Damn it, who left the door open? It's freezing in here," Morgans grumbled. He shook himself, then went back to typing, squawking, "Needs more spice. Readers love the juicy details…"
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