After seeing Katakuri off, Ortoren returned to his office at the G-5 Base to rest.
When Momonga and Issho came looking for him, they found Ortoren sprawled on the sofa, humming a random tune he'd picked up somewhere!
"Back in the day, when my crew first set sail~" Ortoren was singing away when the door swung open and Momonga and Issho walked in.
He quickly sat up, looking embarrassed and irritated. "What's with barging in without knocking?"
"I knocked for ages, but you were too busy singing your heart out to notice," Momonga shot back, completely justified.
Before Ortoren could argue, Momonga leaned in curiously. "So? Did you get rid of that junk?"
"What junk!? How can you call those premium warships—vessels tough enough to survive battles against our Marine fleet—trash!?" Ortoren scolded with a look of disappointment. "Watch your wording. Don't describe our products like that again!"
"Fine, fine. So, did you sell that premium stock?" Momonga waved off the correction, not wanting to argue over semantics.
Ortoren shrugged. "Benn-sama runs both sides of the street, what did you expect? Of course they're all sold. I traded that junk... cough, premium goods for arms. Soon, a distributor under the Big Mom Pirates will handle the exchange with us."
Though he spoke with a grin, Ortoren was carefully watching Momonga and Issho's reactions.
By openly bringing Katakuri to G-5 for the deal without hiding it, he was testing them.
He wanted to see whether their sense of justice left any room for compromise. If both Momonga and Issho were the type who couldn't tolerate even a speck of dust in their eyes—unyielding, uncompromising Marines who'd never dirty their hands with pirates—then they were the kind of super-righteous officers who would rather break than bend.
In that case, Ortoren would agree on the surface to stop, but behind the scenes he'd have no choice but to sever ties and arrange for them to be transferred out of G-5.
But before this open test, Ortoren had already made smaller probes, planting ideas here and there.
And from those, he was convinced that neither Momonga nor Issho were the type of absolute justice Marines who refused to tolerate anything.
Take Momonga, for example. He was an old hand in the Marines, even more senior than Ortoren by several years. Though only a Rear Admiral now and not yet deep into the darker side of things, he couldn't possibly be deaf to rumors or blind to stains. Yet he never brought them up, which showed he had his own scale, his own understanding.
In the original story, Momonga would go on to become an elite Vice Admiral, serving for many years. He took part in operations like Buster Calls and surely even darker political missions.
If he could stomach that much of the World Government's darkness, how could he possibly balk at Ortoren's borderline dealings?
As for Issho, Ortoren was less certain. Their time together had been short, and Issho was still young—not yet the man Ortoren pictured as an Admiral.
Given his past of "closing his eyes" after seeing too much darkness, Ortoren worried Issho might not accept this situation.
But after hearing Ortoren's answer, Momonga's face broke into a satisfied grin. "That's good. Once the arms arrive, training new recruits won't be an issue. With enough weapons and ammunition, even rookies can be drilled into veterans! Veterans on the front line are nothing like greenhorns—their survival chances are far higher."
Clearly, Momonga wasn't a problem. He was willing to go along with Ortoren to a degree, so long as it didn't cross his line of justice.
Ortoren had no intention of trampling that line. Besides, he believed such boundaries were flexible—they could always be pushed further. Today your line is arms dealing; two years from now, it might be pocketing bribes.
Issho, on the other hand, let out a relieved sigh after hearing Ortoren's words. Still, he couldn't help but warn, "Ortoren, you were reckless this time. If headquarters learns you let pirates into our base to trade warships, it could seriously damage your future. Next time, keep it more discreet—or let us handle it..."
Hearing that, Ortoren felt a wave of relief. So Issho wasn't some stiff-necked fool after all. He even knew how to share the burden for his superior. Perfect. Truly perfect!
Now he could relax, knowing he could gradually keep pushing these questionable maneuvers. He'd test things step by step, seeing if he could slowly lower the other two's boundaries until they became the core of his little… ahem, team.
Of course, shady operations had to be done, but the banner of justice still had to be carried high. That flag could never fall—if it did, morale would collapse, and the unit would be impossible to lead.
That's why the methods, tactics, and final results mattered so much. He had to make Momonga and Issho truly see that even if they were bending the rules together, they were still strengthening G-5 and bolstering the power of Marine justice!
"Relax," Ortoren said firmly. "I just reported directly to Admiral Sengoku at the dock, right in front of Katakuri. The Admiral has already granted me wide authority. He told me as long as I don't betray the Marines or commit unforgivable crimes, if I can build up G-5 under these conditions, he'll take responsibility for any minor violations himself!"
Hearing that Admiral Sengoku hadn't opposed Ortoren's actions, Issho finally felt completely at ease. It seemed there really was no problem after all.
With this deal, Ortoren, Momonga, and Issho had, in practice, formed a small group with a shared understanding.
It was no longer just about friendship, nor simply the chain of command between Marine officers.
It was… perhaps not yet visible, but very likely the seed of a new Marine faction in the making.
And G-5 would be their launching point.
Ortoren had already decided to build G-5 into his stronghold. If he could deepen his ties with Momonga, then in the future, when he left G-5 for a post at headquarters, he would strongly recommend Momonga as his successor.
He would shape this place into the cradle of a "New Marines." If things ever broke down with the World Government, he could raise his arm here and rally his forces to start anew.
"Next, we need a sustainable, long-term plan for G-5..." Ortoren clapped his hands to draw their attention before continuing. "First, because of G-5's unique position, different from the regular Marines, we must aim for self-sufficiency in logistics and supplies. Weapons and ammunition can wait, but I believe we need the ability to build Marine warships ourselves!"
"Huh?" Momonga froze, then said, "Even Headquarters isn't allowed that authority..."
Normally, the Marines submit their requirements, the World Government places orders with the shipwrights of Water 7, and the shipyards build and deliver the warships.
So technically, the Marines don't have the right to build their own warships. Or rather, they have the know-how—after all, their logistics crews had been repairing warships for decades and knew the craft inside out—but they were simply not permitted to construct ships independently.
That was why Momonga was shocked. If even Headquarters wasn't allowed, was it really appropriate for G-5 to try?
"When I spoke to Admiral Sengoku just now through the Den Den Mushi, he said something very interesting. He told me, 'If you, Ortoren, can raise fifty thousand elite troops and fifty warships at G-5 without support from headquarters, then as long as you don't betray the Marines or commit unforgivable crimes, I'll shoulder the responsibility for any minor infractions.' Now, what do you think that means?" Ortoren asked with a knowing smile.
Issho, being new and less politically sharp, was left puzzled.
But Momonga thought for a moment, then looked at Ortoren with suspicion. "Are you saying Admiral Sengoku is hinting at us to do this?"
"Admiral Sengoku has always wanted the Marines to have greater autonomy. The earlier New Marine Headquarters plan and the Science Division plan both pushed in that direction, but the World Government stripped out every part involving autonomy, leaving no real progress. I think the Admiral understands now that through formal channels, it's impossible. And with the Great Pirate Era rising, he probably wants to try other avenues... And we, at G-5—a dumping ground of the Marines, long cut off from Headquarters and known for following orders but ignoring directives—are in the perfect position to handle the things Headquarters can't!" Ortoren said, rubbing his chin.
Come on—Sengoku told him to bring out fifty warships without headquarters' support. How else could that be done? Pull them out of thin air? Building them himself was the only option. The hint couldn't be clearer.
Surely he wasn't expected to sail out with G-5's pirate ships and rob his fellow Marines?