The Going Merry.
Lancelot stared at the ship that would, in another timeline, become a legend.
He had never imagined that this iconic, sheep-headed caravel would one day, even temporarily belong to him.
An hour had passed since the confrontation in the courtyard.
Lancelot had already ordered Daniel and his men to unload sixty percent of the vast, confiscated loot from the Dreadnought Saber.
This mountain of gold, jewels, and Berries would serve as Merry's starting capital.
The sheer amount was staggering, more than enough to buy a fleet of ships outright, but Lancelot knew that to rebuild a trade empire, one needed more than just money.
At the same time, he had dispatched the newly-promoted Ensign Johnson to accompany Merry.
Johnson's role was twofold: first, to act as the official logistics officer for this new venture, and second, to be Lancelot's visible hand.
His presence made it clear to everyone that Merry's new enterprise was under the direct protection of the Inspector General.
To disrespect Merry would mean disrespecting Lancelot himself.
All the captured pirate ships—the four large vessels and three medium-sized ones—were left behind as well, their titles signed over to Merry.
They would be the foundation of his new fleet.
Meanwhile, Kaya stood beside Lancelot on the wharf, her face alight with a mixture of terror, grief, and undeniable curiosity.
This was her first time ever leaving her family's estate, let alone setting sail on the open ocean.
The salty air, the sounds of the harbor, the sheer openness of the world—it was all intoxicating.
Noticing her complex expression, Lancelot spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"Are you certain you want to come with us now, Miss Kaya? You could always have Merry send someone to escort you later. We have other, more dangerous, matters to attend to along the way."
Kaya, however, shook her head, her gaze firm.
"I can't wait any longer," she said, her voice small but resolute. "And... I feel safer traveling with your group."
She wasn't wrong.
On his ship, surrounded by his monstrously powerful subordinates, no one in the entire East Blue could lay a finger on her.
Just then, Ensign Daniel approached, saluting crisply.
"Captain," he said, his voice practical, "this ship... the Merry... is a fine vessel, but it's small. With you, Lieutenant Lina, Ensign Zoro, Ensign Gin, plus myself and all fifty of my men aboard... it will be extremely cramped, sir. Not to mention our prisoner."
Lancelot turned to Daniel, his gaze decisive.
"Unload the remaining cargo as well."
"Huh?" Daniel looked utterly confused. "Sir? what do you mean?"
"I'm splitting the command," Lancelot stated. "I want you to establish an inspection base here, in Syrup Village. This will be our first foothold. Once it's built and operational, you'll be the acting base commander. And I will arrange for you to be officially promoted to Inspector, giving you the proper authority for this region."
Overjoyed, Daniel's face lit up, and he bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Captain! I will not fail you!"
Lancelot added another instruction, his voice lowering slightly.
"I'm leaving you forty-five of our men. I will take five of the sharpest soldiers with me for the Merry. The rest will stay with you. Consider them the foundation of your new base. Train them well, Daniel. They are my direct subordinates, and I will be re-assigning them to other posts across the East Blue as the opportunity arises."
Daniel, understanding the implicit meaning—that he was being tasked with training Lancelot's future network of loyal officers—snapped to attention.
"Understood, sir!"
With a new crew of Lancelot, Lina, Zoro, Gin, and Kaya, plus five elite soldiers, the Going Merry instantly became much more spacious.
Of course, there was also the unconscious form of Kuro, tied up securely on the deck, unable to move.
Lancelot waved his hand.
"Set sail! Destination: Shells Town, home of the 153rd Branch!"
The five Marine soldiers immediately sprang into action, their movements crisp and professional.
They unfurled the sails, and the Going Merry, now a temporary Marine vessel, steered toward its next destination.
With Kuro in their grasp, Lancelot knew that Shells Town was as good as theirs.
....
A full half-month passed in the blink of an eye.
The journey was long, but it was not idle.
"Soru!"
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-WHOOSH... CRASH!
Gin lost control of the high-speed movement technique and slammed, for the dozenth time that day, into the ship's railing.
He grimaced in pain, his entire body a canvas of dark, spreading bruises, but he pushed himself off the wood, his breathing ragged.
Lancelot, observing from the quarterdeck, was teaching him the Navy Six Styles.
Soru, or "Shave," was, in theory, the easiest of the six techniques to master.
It was simply a matter of kicking off the ground ten times in the blink of an eye.
During this time, Gin had finally, painfully, managed to execute it... but he had not yet mastered it.
Every time he used it, he couldn't control his movement or direction, and he definitely couldn't stop properly, resulting in a series of bone-jarring collisions.
Still, Gin was tenacious.
He was a demon of willpower.
Even though the process of learning Soru had left him battered, he persisted, his face a mask of grim determination.
Lancelot nodded approvingly from the side, a satisfied expression on his face.
With this terrifying level of determination, he estimated Gin would truly master Soru in another month or so.
Moreover, mastering all Six Styles within a year or two shouldn't be a problem for a man this driven.
By then, his combat power would skyrocket.
If Lancelot could, in the future, equip him with a powerful Zoan-type Devil Fruit... reaching the level of a Headquarters Vice Admiral would be a breeze.
Lancelot was very satisfied with his first true subordinate.
As for Lina and Zoro, Lancelot didn't force them to learn the Six Styles.
After all, both were wholly, almost religiously, dedicated to the path of swordsmanship.
Zoro, in particular, was incredibly disciplined.
Whenever he wasn't sleeping or eating, he was training.
The five soldiers would watch in awe as the green-haired swordsman would do thousands of push-ups, lift massive, custom-made weights that Gin had cobbled together from scrap, and continuously explore the path of the sword, his focus absolute.
With Zoro setting such a demonic pace, Lina simply followed his lead.
She hadn't consumed the White Tiger Fruit that long ago and was still in the optimal period for rapid, explosive growth.
She would train in her hybrid form, her superhuman strength allowing her to match Zoro's grueling regimen, rep for rep.
In this short time, her base strength had multiplied and was now nearly on par with Zoro's.
That power, combined with her pre-existing, genius-level swordsmanship skills, meant her overall combat ability was now firmly among the top tier in the entire East Blue.
Currently, she had surpassed Gin in raw strength, which only added a new layer of pressure on him.
Now the weakest of the core combat trio, Gin felt a sting to his pride.
This was another, unspoken reason he trained the Six Styles so desperately.
Lancelot often reflected, as he watched his three monstrous subordinates train, that Devil Fruits truly were the best shortcut to power.
Lina had proven that.
If not for his own system, Lancelot would have desperately wanted to get his hands on a Devil Fruit, too.
...
In Shells Town, a small, battered rowboat containing a straw-hatted boy and a short, pudgy, pink-haired figure landed on the island.
Not long after, Lancelot arrived at Shells Town's port aboard the Going Merry.
Standing at the bow, Lancelot watched the two distant figures—one all energy, the other all nerves—as they argued with the Marines at the base gate.
He felt an odd, distant sense of familiarity, but he quickly dismissed it.
He had more important matters to attend to.
"Lina," Lancelot ordered, "you and the five soldiers stay here. Protect Miss Kaya and the ship."
"Yes, Captain Lancelot!" Lina replied, her new rank sitting comfortably on her.
"Gin, bring Kuro." Lancelot's gaze was fixed on the imposing, skull-adorned walls of the 153rd Branch.
"We're going to meet this Captain Morgan."
After speaking, he glanced at Zoro, who was seated against the mast, seemingly napping.
Zoro, who had been listening the entire time, immediately understood.
His eye snapped open.
He stood, fastening the three swords resting by his side to his waist.
Thus, this peculiar group of four—a Marine Captain, two newly-commissioned Ensigns who looked like a demon and a pirate, and their bound, unconscious 16-million-Beri captive—set off towards Shells Town.
The moment they stepped onto the main street, the reaction was immediate and unsettling.
"Marines..." a shopkeeper whispered, before quickly pulling his wares inside.
A mother grabbed her child's hand and hurried into an alley.
The townspeople, upon seeing the four of them in their Justice cloaks (Zoro and Gin now wearing their new Ensign uniforms), instantly showed expressions of fear and even a hint of... disgust.
"Hey, hey... what's up with these people?" Zoro muttered, his hand resting on his swords.
He felt extremely uncomfortable under their hateful stares.
Gin couldn't help but frown, his gaze sweeping the street.
For a moment, he even had the bizarre illusion that he was still a pirate, that the Justice on his back was a lie.
He muttered to himself, "What the hell has this 'Morgan' done here? Why does it feel like the Marines are more hated than pirates in this place?"
Meanwhile, Lancelot was observing Shells Town with a cold, calculating eye.
At this moment, he felt his decision couldn't have been more correct.
The entire street of Shells Town was lined with small buildings, various shops, and all kinds of merchandise.
For a small, isolated island town to reach this level of development, it could truly be called prosperous.
However, amidst the bustling crowd, he noticed that very few people had smiles on their faces.
They moved with a hunched-over urgency, as if they were carrying some invisible, crushing burden on their hearts.
Clearly, life here wasn't very good.
"Get out of the way! Move! All of you, scram for me!"
Just then, an extremely arrogant, nasal voice cut through the tense quiet.
A gaudily-dressed fellow with a bizarre, bowl-shaped blond haircut appeared, leading two vicious dogs.
He was flanked by several Marine soldiers, and he swaggered through the streets as if he owned them.
Wherever he passed, people scattered in panic.
"Well, well..."
Now Gin finally understood why.
This... thing's... demeanor was even more outrageous than when he had been a top-tier pirate commander.
Zoro's face also twitched, his visible eye narrowing in pure disgust.
There was no helping it.
This guy in front of them was just... insufferable.
He even had the sudden, powerful urge to cut this guy into pieces.