"Hey, look. Is that a Marine patrol? I heard they're sweeping through the Groves starting from Number 1."
It was the day after my sparring session with Tesoro. I was currently in Grove 12 of the Sabaody Archipelago.
"Ugh, we haven't seen a patrol here in a year... which idiot decided to stir up trouble now?"
The Lawless Zone is rarely touched by the Marines. Arresting thugs here is like trying to empty the ocean with a spoon—it's endless, and unless something major happens, they usually just let it be.
But the men whispering in the shadows soon saw the source of the rumors: a massive figure draped in a Marine coat, followed by a squad of disciplined soldiers.
I had my hair cropped short, a black iron forehead protector in place, and a sharp gaze that meant business.
Under my black-and-blue tiger-patterned shirt, my dull-colored armor was visible, paired with tactical pants and heavy combat boots. In my gauntleted hand, I carried a single mace.
"Gah! That's the 'Dull Bear'!! When did he get back!?"
"Is he famous? He looks more like a pirate than a Marine."
"Famous? You must be new here. Listen, that's Captain Krieg of the Headquarters. He might have the face of a villain, but he's the real deal."
"Dull Bear... sounds slow. And he's just a Captain. Why be scared? Most Captains can't handle a bounty over a hundred million."
"You idiot! He's one of the few who can! I heard he formed his own elite unit and went to another sea... what was it? The 'Seagull Mariners' or something? They fly a red Marine flag."
"Oh, I heard about that! A group of promising young recruits. But he's not a Devil Fruit user, right? You're overreacting."
"Overreacting?! Have you never heard of the 'Dawn Sea Incident' two years ago? A small elite force wiped out dozens of pirate crews in a single night of overwhelming firepower. Word is, Krieg did most of it himself. He took down several men with bounties over a hundred million."
"But he's only carrying a mace now."
"Listen... back then, he wore golden armor packed with hidden weapons. They called him the 'Walking Arsenal,' the 'Pirate Eater,' and the 'One-Man Army.'
People still have nightmares about that gold silhouette. Even if he looks simple now, he's probably got a mountain of weapons hidden under that coat."
"Hmph. If you say so..."
"Just shut up and move. Don't touch the 'Dull Bear' if you want to keep your head."
The Unwanted Honor
I could hear them whispering.
After my talk with Tesoro yesterday and a nice dinner with the crew and Robin, I had set out this morning using the list of bounties Tesoro provided. Leaving this place for a year had definitely allowed the weeds to grow back.
I was just finishing up a sweep of several wanted criminals and was planning to head back to the ship when a voice called out—a voice that made my stomach turn.
"You there. I shall permit you to serve as my guard. You should feel honored, shall you not?"
Oh, great. I've stepped into it now.
The man speaking wore what looked like a clumsy spacesuit. Behind him followed a long procession, including several humans in collars and chains.
A World Noble. A Celestial Dragon.
They claim to be the most noble lineage in the world, but in reality, they are the foulest stains on humanity—monsters who commit murder and enslave whoever they please just because they can.
Their power is absolute. When they pass, commoners must prostrate themselves. They extort "Heavenly Tribute" from nations, often leaving entire populations to starve to death.
Even kings bow to them.
Because I was in uniform, he simply demanded I guard him. If I had been in civilian clothes, I might have been shot or enslaved on the spot.
This is the dark rot at the heart of the Navy—we are forced to protect the very things we should be arresting.
I quickly used a Mini Den Den Mushi to notify the Sabaody station and my ship, then checked the magazine of my large handgun, the "Bear Kong."
The "guard duty" was... infuriating.
It took every ounce of my self-control not to cave his "fishbowl" helmet in from behind. Along the way, he "claimed" a young woman to be his thirteenth wife by shoving a collar on her.
He kicked a prostrating old man because he "didn't like his face." He walked into shops, trashed the place, and left without buying anything, wondering why "such filth was even for sale."
Then, a ball rolled into the street. A small boy chased after it, straight into the path of the noble. Without a word, the Celestial Dragon drew a gold-plated pistol.
BANG.
The boy collapsed. As the father screamed and rushed to his son's side, the noble fired again.
BANG.
The man fell over the boy. As the noble leveled the gun to fire again, I dropped to one knee between them and the "god."
"My Lord! Such filth is not worth your personal attention. Please, do not waste your precious bullets on them. It is beneath your dignity."
I spoke with practiced, hollow reverence.
"Hmm. You have a point. Very well. You are quite a sensible Marine, aren't you?"
"I shall dispose of 'this' immediately. Please, continue your stroll, my Lord."
"Umu. See to it."
I bowed low until the "fishbowl" was out of sight. The moment he was gone, I spat on the ground. "Damned bubble-headed freak..."
"You... how can you call yourself a Marine?!" a voice screamed from the crowd.
"Yeah! They did nothing wrong!"
"Dog of the Celestial Dragons! Take this!" Someone threw a stone. I caught it mid-air.
"SHUT UP!" I roared. "You think I don't know?! In front of that... 'God'... even breathing the wrong way is a crime! If you don't want to be shot, keep your heads down and your mouths shut!"
"Wait... did he just call them a 'bubble-headed freak'?" someone whispered.
I ignored them and rushed to the two bodies. I pulled a vial from my pouch and forced a few drops into their mouths.
"Ugh... my head..." the father groaned.
"Huh? I... I thought I was shot..." the boy stammered, sitting up.
The trick was simple. I had commissioned the Technical Division to create the "Blue Shell"—a secret bullet containing a high-speed anesthetic and a built-in blood pack.
I came up with the idea after seeing the Celestial Dragons' cruelty during my own training.
The "Blue Shell" makes the victim appear dead instantly. The problem is they're expensive, only last about ten minutes, and are only issued to officers of Lieutenant rank or higher.
They haven't "saved" the world yet, but they saved two people today.
"Listen to me!" I barked at the crowd and the stunned family. "What you saw here never happened. You were never shot, and I never helped you.
If you value your lives, get out of here and never speak of this! Next time, it won't be a fake bullet. Move!"
I watched them scramble away before turning to head back to the Beatrice. My mood was officially ruined.
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