c15: Daily Life At Naval Headquarters
"Bang bang bang."
Clashing high above Marineford, shockwaves blasted out in concentric circles, rattling nearby warships.
When Moran was still in the Marines, his bond with Zephyr the former Admiral known as "Black Arm"—was more than camaraderie; it was a genuine mentor-student relationship. Had Zephyr still held influence within the higher-ups, Moran might never have ended up being hunted.
"Not bad you've kept up with your training, even out there!"
As he spoke, Zephyr lunged, his mechanical Battle Smasher Arm crashing toward Moran with ferocious force.
"Teacher Zephyr, your fists are still terrifying!"
"Cut it out, both of you!!" Fleet Admiral Sengoku barked, appearing in a flash.
He had been sipping tea peacefully in his office when the tremors from the harbor battle sent tremors up the walls. Fearing an enemy attack, he rushed down only to find Moran and Zephyr trading devastating blows above the port.
His voice thundered with the same force as his Shockwave Palm, rolling through the air like divine judgment.
"Zephyr-sensei, let's bring it down a notch!"
The two fighters continued their Geppo (Moonwalk) battle in the sky, but the port below had already started crumbling under Moran's aggressive strikes.
"Hey, isn't that our beloved Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself!"
"What's with that face? You look like someone just defaulted on your loan."
The surrounding officers and soldiers, who had come running at the sound of destruction, barely suppressed their laughter. Many of them had been reprimanded or disciplined by Sengoku before, and seeing him flustered now was... refreshing.
Sengoku's eye twitched.
"Alphad Moran, you're a Warlord now. Do you still want to keep causing problems?"
"I do but watching you stress out is better entertainment."
"Moran, enough. We all know you resent Sengoku for casting you out, but there were... circumstances. The Celestial Dragon you humiliated was from the Roswald Family, who control the World Government's budget. They threatened to cut Marine military funding. Sengoku had no choice."
A Vice Admiral who knew the backstory tried to defuse the tension as Sengoku's face flushed red again.
"Tch... Bowing to pressure will only make the Marines look weaker."
"Let's just go. The meeting's already delayed several Warlords have been waiting days for you."
(Moran, still carrying traces of his predecessor's memories, couldn't help but feel bitterness every time he saw Sengoku.)
In the conference room, several other Shichibukai were already seated. Their attention turned toward Moran as he entered.
"Where did you get that sword?"
Gekko Moria, the Warlord once known for controlling zombies on Thriller Bark, stood up and asked with a scowl.
"Oh, Moria. I passed by Thriller Bark to visit you. You weren't there, but I found a zombie swinging around a big sword. I figured, 'Isn't it a waste for a zombie to wield something like that?' So I kindly... borrowed it."
"You bastard! You wanna die!"
Moria whipped out his massive shears and leapt over the table, rushing straight at Moran.
"Itachi, he's loud."
"Understood, Lord Moran," said Uchiha Itachi, standing silently behind his captain.
"Tsukuyomi."
Moria, mid-charge, saw crimson eyes form a windmill pattern the Mangekyō Sharingan. In an instant, he was pulled into a world of crimson skies and endless torment.
"Where… where am I?!" Moria shouted, chained to a crucifix.
"Welcome to my world," Itachi said, materializing before him. "In this realm, I control time, space, and mass."
What followed was a nightmare of blades and screaming agony, stretched across 72 hours in Moria's mind—yet only a second passed in the real world.
To the rest of the room, it merely looked like Moria stopped mid-rush, dropped to his knees before Moran, sweat pouring down his face in pure terror.
Moran casually kicked Moria aside into the corner, dragged out a chair, and sat down.
At this time, Fleet Admiral Sengoku and Vice Admiral Tsuru walked into the room and immediately noticed Gekko Moria collapsed unconscious in the corner.
"Can anyone explain what happened here?" Sengoku asked, his brows furrowed.
"Oh... Marshal Sengoku, I believe Gekko Moria mentioned he was... too exhausted and needed a short rest," Moran replied, casually glancing up.
The other Shichibukai present—including Boa Hancock, Bartholomew Kuma, and Dracule Mihawk cast quiet, speechless glances at Moran.
"The Shichibukai meeting is now a complete mess how are we supposed to continue this meeting?!" Sengoku shouted, visibly exasperated.
"Marshal Sengoku, perhaps I could help rebrand the Shichibukai into the Rokubukai," Moran said with a mischievous smile.
"Shut up." Sengoku snapped, pointing at a Marine stationed at the door. "You go wake him up."
"Fufufufufu."
A deep chuckle echoed across the room.
"Alphad. Moran, you're still as arrogant as ever," said Donquixote Doflamingo, adjusting his pink feathered coat with a grin.
"You're not arrogant to the point of waste but if not for that arrogance, you wouldn't have mastered footwork that even your kin couldn't comprehend."
Without replying, Moran stood up and calmly walked out. Clearly, the meeting was over. Gekko Moria, caught in the trauma of Tsukuyomi, still hadn't regained consciousness. The soldier tried calling him awake, but it was useless.
Just as Moran exited the headquarters building, a young Marine officer followed him.
"Yo... isn't this Tina? The kouhai from the Marine Training Camp?"
"Marshal Sengoku assigned me to follow you," Tina replied firmly. "I'm under orders to keep you from wandering off."
"You mean follow me... everywhere?"
"Yes. The Marshal said I must accompany you no matter where you go."
Moran strolled casually toward the restroom.
"Well then, I'm heading to the men's room. Coming along?" Moran asked with a wicked grin.
"You shameless bastard! Trying to lure Tina into the men's room disgusting!" she yelled.
"Moran-sama, enough. Stop bullying her." Chi Tong, with her strong sense of justice, finally couldn't hold back.
Itachi and Van Augur (Van Oka) stood silently behind, clearly speechless at Moran's antics.
Meanwhile, Esdeath (Acedes) and Nico Robin stifled their laughter, their shoulders shaking.
"You two dare laugh at Tina?! Tina is not pleased!"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you. Take me to see Teacher Zephyr."
At this time, Tina wasn't yet the cool-headed and mature Marine Captain she would later become she was still a serious and dutiful recruit.
"Marshal Sengoku specifically instructed that you're only allowed to roam between the port and the square. You're not permitted to enter the training camp."
"Well, if there's nowhere else to go... crew, back to the ship."
"It's the captain! x5" the crew shouted in unison.
---
(Noon the next day)
Moran was stretched out on a recliner on deck, lazily browsing the World Economic Journal with eyes half-closed.
Nearby, Acedes was practicing sword swings like a dance, each motion sharp and elegant.
Chi Tong sat beside Moran, feeding him various sliced fruits with a gentle smile.
Robin read silently from a thick book, while several disembodied arms massaged Moran's shoulders, courtesy of her Hana Hana no Mi powers.
This was Moran's daily routine train in the morning, skim the news at noon, resume practice in the afternoon, and rest in the evening.
Passing Marines stationed nearby would glance over and involuntarily sigh in envy, some even drooling at the comfort of Moran's luxurious lifestyle.
Tina, standing a respectful distance from the ship, watched Moran quietly.
What a frustrating man... but still... so annoyingly composed.
"Alphad. Moran, Marshal Sengoku wants to see you." Tina finally approached and reported.
"Ugh... there goes my peace again. Everyone stay here I'll go alone to the meeting."
Moran disembarked. The others remained aboard.
When he arrived, the other Shichibukai were already seated. Moria, awake and fuming, glared murderously at Moran.
"What are you looking at? If you want another nap, I'm happy to help," Moran said casually, shooting Moria a smirk.
Finally, the Shichibukai meeting officially began. As Sengoku addressed the group with updates and strategic planning, Moran leaned back in his seat, arms folded, head tilting forward.
He wasn't listening.
The meeting was filled with bureaucratic drivel, and Moran, uninterested, was dozing off almost immediately.
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