Vice Admiral Tsuru didn't speak right away.
She simply sat quietly in the chair, using the natural light from the window to read the thin little file in her hand, and began to slowly recite it in an even tone:
"Name: Corvo Rain. Age: fifteen. Background: war orphan, taken in by the Loguetown branch… One and a half years ago, formally appointed as the branch executioner.
End of file."
When she finished, the office fell into a long silence. Those sharp eyes finally left the pages and landed on Rain, as if she wanted to see straight through him, inside and out.
"Rain," Vice Admiral Tsuru spoke at last, asking a question that seemed unrelated to anything, "are you afraid of your job?"
Rain's heart thumped, but his face remained the slightly nervous calm of a teenager standing in front of a big shot.
"Ma'am," Rain bowed slightly, "this is my duty. I'm not afraid."
The corner of Tsuru's mouth seemed to curl up, just a fraction.
"You've done your duty very well." She picked up another document on the desk. "In the past year and a half, you've carried out twenty-one executions, all completed smoothly. For a newcomer—especially a boy of fifteen or sixteen—this record is very good."
Her tone sharpened.
"So answer me, Rain. Why did you choose this job?"
In his head, Rain started ranting at high speed: You're seriously asking me that? You old fox, you have my file in your hand—like you don't know why I'm doing this? It's because I've got no background and everyone hates me, so this dirty, thankless work landed on me. Playing dumb and asking pointless questions…
Even though he was screaming inside, not a flicker of extra emotion showed on his face. He didn't hesitate at all, answering in the numb tone that best fit his "character":
"Ma'am, because… it was an order."
Hearing that answer, the sharpness in Tsuru's eyes finally softened a little. She stopped probing, leaned forward slightly, and her voice took on a very serious weight.
"Good. Then I have a more important order to give you."
Tsuru skipped all formalities and went straight to the point. "The Marines need an executioner with absolutely solid mentality and ability to carry out Roger's execution. I've chosen you."
She didn't give Rain any chance to speak.
"To display the Marines' dignity and justice, you will not wear a mask for this execution," she continued, her voice brooking no argument. "You will stand before the world with your real face."
Rain's pupils tightened slightly.
Tsuru caught his reaction and assumed he was worried about revenge, so she immediately put generous terms on the table. "I know this will make you a thorn in the side of every pirate in the world. But don't worry. After it's done, I'll apply for a merit citation for you and promote you directly to captain, so you can leave this troublesome place, Loguetown."
From Seaman Second Class… to Captain! That was practically a rocket to the top.
Rain's mind, however, was blaring every alarm at once: Captain?! Are you kidding me?! I just want to be a nobody executioner quietly grinding XP! How am I supposed to be invisible if I get promoted that high? How am I supposed to keep executing people in peace?
He reacted almost instantly.
Rain snapped to attention and saluted, his face lit with the kind of "overwhelmed by glory" excitement only a young soldier could have, and shouted:
"Ma'am! Please permit me to refuse the reward!"
Surprise flashed in Tsuru's eyes.
"To personally execute the Pirate King and wipe out the greatest evil on these seas—this is the highest honor I could ask for as a Marine!" Rain kept going, his voice "trembling" with excitement. "I don't need any extra reward or promotion! I just want… to fulfill my duty as an executioner!"
Looking at the boy in front of her, face flushed with "sense of mission," Tsuru was deeply moved.
She'd seen too many Marines obsessed with fame and gain, but she'd never seen "justice" this pure and unmoved by personal benefit.
"Good… good!" A genuinely pleased smile appeared on Tsuru's face. "The Marines need soldiers like you. I approve your request."
She didn't press the reward any further, but in her heart, she firmly remembered Rain's name. A promising seed like this must not be buried in Loguetown, she thought.
Meanwhile, Rain was cheering inside.
Whew… that was close. Finally managed to dodge the promotion. Now the newbie mega-loot is safe. Forget going maskless—if they told me to execute him naked at this point, I'd still go!
Tsuru had no idea what was actually going through his head. She stood up and walked over to him, her tone turning solemn again.
"Then go back and prepare yourself. Roger's execution is set for three days from now. Until then, you are not to leave the base."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Rain saluted again, turned, and left the office.
Outside, Captain Stock was indeed still standing there like a wooden post. The moment Rain came out, he grabbed him and pulled him into a corner of the hallway. His voice dropped and carried a hint of threat.
"Hold it, kid! That big shot… what'd she say to you? You didn't flap your mouth about anything you shouldn't, did you?"
Looking at the man's face, which practically screamed "don't drag me down with you," Rain couldn't help finding it funny—but his own expression stayed as calm and flat as ever.
"Nothing much," he replied in a tone as bland as a weather report. "Just asked a few questions about my daily work."
"Hmph, daily work?" Stock clearly didn't believe a word.
Even with his limited imagination, he could guess this was eighty percent related to the big event in three days. Staring at Rain's handsome, unreadable face, he felt a vague surge of irritation.
He waved his hand like shooing a fly, snapping, "Get lost! And listen—keep your head down these next few days. Don't cause me any trouble!"
Rain nodded, said nothing more, and walked away, leaving Stock alone in the hallway, stewing in his own anxiety.
…
The night before the execution.
Rain sat alone in his single dorm room. Moonlight from outside the window fell across his perfectly calm face.
The execution rifle, soon to be immortalized in history, lay completely disassembled. Every piece of it had been wiped spotless with white cloth and gun oil, gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
His movements were cool and focused, without a single wasted motion.
One icy component after another clicked back into place, the crisp mechanical sounds ringing pleasantly in the quiet.
When the final part slid home, a flawless killing tool once more appeared before him.
Rain raised the rifle and, through the sights, aimed at the moon half-hidden behind the clouds outside.
After a long moment, he spoke softly, as if talking to the gun—or to himself.
"Gol D. Roger…"
"Let me see just how much a 'Pirate King' like you is really worth."