Inside the Admiral's office, the air was thick with the faint, pleasant scent of expensive cigars.
Kizaru sat with one leg casually crossed over the other, his polished shoe tracing lazy circles in the air.
His usual languid posture, however, was betrayed by his eyes.
They were sharp, focused, and locked firmly onto the small, intricately carved stamp Mike was holding.
"That little thing..." Kizaru smacked his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Where'd you get your hands on this, kid?"
Mike took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling a perfect smoke ring.
He watched it drift and dissipate in a sunbeam before turning to Kizaru with a smug look that clearly said.
"Take a guess."
"Heh, still playing coy with this old man?"
Mike just chuckled and tossed the small stamp over to him.
"It's my personal seal. Made specifically for processing military affairs."
"Oh?" Kizaru caught it deftly, turning the cool, heavy object over in his hands for a closer look.
"A nice little trinket, indeed!"
His mind immediately began to spin.
With something like this, he wouldn't even have to bother with the tedious act of signing his own name anymore.
A lot of the documents Mike handled still required his final review and signature.
But now… he could just stamp them himself!
The time and effort he would save were astronomical!
"I'll have one made for you too," Mike offered casually. "It's no big deal."
"Heh, you're a real pal, kid," Kizaru grinned, before his expression turned sly.
"But I gotta say, you've been scheming this whole time, haven't you?"
"Scheming what?" Mike asked, feigning total ignorance as he leaned back leisurely into the sofa.
"Oh, you're still playing dumb?" Kizaru pointed a dramatic finger at Kuro, who stood silently by the wall, then at the seal in his hand.
"You never had any intention of actually working when you came to headquarters, did you? You found someone to handle all your paperwork in advance, and you even prepared a seal to replace your own signature!" He leaned forward conspiratorially.
"You came here to steal my title as the 'King of Slacking,' didn't you?"
As he spoke, Kizaru shot another look at Kuro.
It was clear Mike had come fully prepared.
Handling military affairs wasn't a job for just anyone; it required specialized knowledge of the Marines' labyrinthine internal operations.
To become this proficient in such a short amount of time… this Kuro was undoubtedly a genius of administration.
Mike's eye for talent was truly first-rate.
"Heh—" Mike smirked.
This was why he enjoyed talking to the old man.
They were two sides of the same lazy coin; Kizaru saw right through him.
The entire reason he went to the trouble of recruiting and training Kuro was to ensure his own time at headquarters would be as comfortable and carefree as possible.
As for that title…
"Old man," Mike sighed, his voice taking on a tone of mock solemnity.
"That 'King of Slacking' title… you can keep it."
"Hm? And why's that?" Kizaru asked, intrigued.
"Because I can't be bothered to compete with you for it," Mike said, leaning back even further and sinking deep into the plush sofa, the absolute picture of relaxation.
Who had the time and energy to waste on competing over who was the laziest?
"…"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
After a beat of stunned silence, Kizaru erupted into roaring laughter.
"You little rascal! No wonder I like you so much!"
Knock—Knock—
A pair of polite, measured raps on the office door cut through the admiral's laughter.
"Come in," Kizaru called out casually.
The door swung open, and the towering figure of Kuzan filled the entrance.
He carried two heavy-looking black suitcases with a faint smile on his lips.
"Yo. Looks like everyone's here," he said, his calm voice filling the room.
"Having a good chat, I see."
Kuzan strode into the office and set the two suitcases on the floor with a heavy THUD, the impact making the floorboards tremble slightly.
Following closely behind him were the members of CP9.
Their transformation was stunning.
Gone were the battered, desperate fugitives from the deserted island.
In their place stood a team of professionals in clean, crisp black suits, their expressions calm and respectful.
Four of them also carried identical black suitcases.
Six suitcases in total were now neatly arranged on the office carpet.
The CP9 members' gazes, however, kept flickering toward the young captain at the center of the room.
Their eyes held a complex storm of emotions: curiosity, awe, and a deep, barely concealed reverence.
After Kuro's thorough briefing on the Nautilus, they now understood their new reality.
They were no longer government assassins; they were the personal staff of Captain Mike, responsible for everything from his military and political affairs to the trivialities of his daily life.
Kuzan walked over, pulled up a chair, and sat down.
His gaze shifted from Mike to Kizaru, then back to Mike.
His tone turned serious, steering the conversation back on track.
"Everyone here now is one of us," he stated. "Mike, did you tell Borsalino about the plan?"
"No rush," Mike said with a mysterious smile, tilting his chin toward Kizaru.
"Let's show the old man our sincerity first."
As soon as he finished speaking, Kuro stepped forward.
With practiced, graceful movements, he picked up the six suitcases and arranged them in a neat row on Kizaru's massive desk.
The soft click of the cases setting down was the only sound in the room.
"..."
Kizaru's attention was instantly captivated.
He stared at the six suitcases, his mind racing.
Wait, six? I thought it was two cases for one billion Belly.
Did I misremember?
No… it couldn't be… if two cases are one billion… then six cases… is that three billion Belly?!
"These one billion," Mike began, casually pointing at the two suitcases on the far left, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather, "are for the service fee we agreed upon."
He then tapped his finger on the next two cases.
"This one billion is a bonus." He gave Kizaru a thumbs-up, his voice filled with genuine praise.
"For handling that CP9 matter with such top-notch efficiency, old man."
"As for this final one billion…" Mike took a pre-prepared contract from Kuro.
The cover was made of fine parchment, with bold, gilded letters that read.
"New Marine Admiral Appointment Letter."
"...it's your signing bonus," Mike finished with a grin. "Sign on the dotted line… and you'll be an admiral in the New Marine."
"New Marine?"
A flicker of doubt crossed Kizaru's mind, but his body had already acted with the utmost sincerity, snatching the contract from Mike's hand.
In an instant, there was a streak of yellow light, a blur of motion too fast for the normal eye to follow.
The name "Borsalino" was already signed, the ink still wet on the page.
Hesitation?
Hesitating for even a second would be a profound disrespect to the three billion Belly sitting right in front of him!
"Kid…" Kizaru's voice was hoarse with pure, unadulterated excitement.
"Recruiting another admiral to join your cause… is there a bonus for that?"
"Oh~" Mike's grin widened. "Absolutely."