Even though Roger, the Pirate King, had been dead for more than a decade, his influence over the Navy's top brass remained as strong as ever.
Previously, many Marine officers, including those aligned with the pacifist faction opposed rashly provoking the Whitebeard Pirates. However, once Fleet Admiral Sengoku revealed Ace's true lineage and the so-called "sinful bloodline" of the Pirate King that ran through his veins, even Kuzan offered no objections to Sengoku's plan to publicly execute Fire Fist Ace.
What followed was naturally the formulation of the Marineford War plan, which targeted the Whitebeard Pirates. Sengoku, ever the ambitious strategist, sought to seize this opportunity to completely annihilate Whitebeard and his crew.
Although the Whitebeard Pirates weren't the most violent of the Four Emperors, Whitebeard's unmatched strength and influence had cented his position as the Navy's greatest threat. The world's strongest man was, without question, a thorn in their side.
But what did any of this have to do with soone like Borsalino?
When the ti ca for the battle at Marineford, he would just fire off a few Pew Pew Pew light beams here and there—enough to earn his paycheck. Ideally, he'd find a suitable punching bag to engage, throwing in lines like "This one is terrifying. If left unchecked, they'll surely beco a grave threat." That way, no one could accuse him of slacking off.
"Hey, Borsalino... Borsalino!"
What Borsalino didn't expect, however, was that just as he was ntally preparing himself for a "lazy-mode" participation in the war—and even thinking about taking a vacation with Nami afterward—Fleet Admiral Sengoku, his "heartless boss," had already set his sights on him.
Even among the eccentric admirals, the so-called "Ageless Admiral" Borsalino stood out as the quirkiest.
He didn't uphold his sense of justice as fervently as Akainu or Kuzan, nor did he share Vice Admiral Garp's free-spirited disregard for authority.
Well... to be fair, Borsalino had also ignored orders from the World Governnt more than once.
Still, most of the ti, he showed a certain level of respect for the Five Elders and the Governnt's authority.
If there was one term to best describe Borsalino, it was likely his own favorite: salary thief.
No matter the mission, he'd always put in just enough effort—never more, never less. Despite his power, which many believed was slightly above that of the other two admirals, no one had ever seen him fight at full strength.
The thought of watching Borsalino "half-ass" his way through the battlefield again made Sengoku feel a pang of frustration. After exchanging a glance with Vice Admiral Tsuru, Sengoku steeled his resolve and called out to the retreating Borsalino.
"Hmm? You need sothing, Fleet Admiral Sengoku?"
Despite his laziness, Borsalino held a degree of respect for Sengoku. After all, the man was shouldering the burdens of the Navy as its leader, even going so far as to secretly dye his graying hair black to avoid appearing old and frail in the eyes of the troops.
"The Marineford War will require summoning the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Given how unruly and difficult those pirates are, we'll need soone of sufficient stature to personally recruit them!"
Sengoku could barely contain the upward curve tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Every ti others worked hard at the front lines, that bastard Borsalino would be slacking off in the background. Finally, Sengoku had caught him and found the perfect chance to make him pay for it!
The Seven Warlords of the Sea guarded the seven main routes of the Grand Line. To gather them all in one place would ideally require traversing almost the entire first half of the Grand Line.
With his understanding of Borsalino, Sengoku knew that this task was perfectly calibrated to hit the admiral's sweet spot of frustration. If the task were harder or more troubleso, Borsalino would certainly find ways to shift it onto soone else or simply delay it.
"Ah, this…"
As expected, the task of recruiting the Warlords left Borsalino feeling deeply conflicted.
Just as he was about to co up with an excuse to wriggle out of it, he realized Sengoku had already walked off, leaving no room for negotiation.
Damn it! I'm swapping Sengoku's hair dye with green next ti!
"Borsalino-san, the eting is over. Isn't it ti to start working now?"
Nami pulled out a thick stack of schedules, filled with tasks that required Borsalino's personal attention as a Navy admiral.
From small tasks like eting with outstanding subordinates to major issues like quelling a mutiny in one of the Navy branches, the sheer volu of responsibilities made Borsalino's head spin. It almost triggered his fear of densely packed lists.
"This… this is way too much… Nami, could you make a shortlist first? Let handle the urgent ones first…"
Borsalino rubbed his forehead. Even as a self-proclaid "salary thief," he couldn't shirk every responsibility. Fine, he thought, I'll do so of it—if only for the sake of Sengoku's precious hair dye.
"But this is the shortlist!"
Nami's expression darkened as she responded.
If Borsalino hadn't been so lazy and unmotivated, the workload wouldn't have piled up to this extent in the first place.
Hearing her words, Borsalino froze. With years of experience in slacking off, he estimated it would take at least half a month to clear this backlog of work.
"Nami, can I really trust you with this?"
Borsalino suddenly placed his hands on Nami's shoulders.
His unblinking gaze locked onto her eyes, as if he were trying to discern sothing deep within their reflection.
Even though she had been by Borsalino's side for nearly two years, this was the first ti Nami had seen the so-called "Ageless Admiral" look this serious.
Who would've thought that the Navy senior who developed Life Return would never imagine it being used by soone so shaless, not for combat or training, but to make himself more attractive and flirt with girls?
Faced with Borsalino's unapologetic stare for the first ti, Nami wasn't sure what to think. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she instinctively pushed him away.
Stay calm! Don't let this guy fool you. Sure, he saved Bell-mère, and yes, he's handso, but don't forget he's just a middle-aged man in his fifties!
In that mont, it felt like two little Namis popped up on her shoulders.
The one on the left, with angel wings, kept listing Borsalino's good qualities. The one on the right, with devil horns, urged her to stay rational.
"Of… of course, you can!"
Nami took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
This was no ti to lose composure. She couldn't forget where she was—this was Navy Headquarters! She couldn't let this guy say sothing outrageous.
"Good, then I'll leave it to you. These tasks are all in your capable hands while I handle the mission Sengoku gave !"
With a satisfied smile, Borsalino handed the thick stack of schedules to Nami. After all, where else would you find a superior as dedicated to developing subordinates as him?
If anyone doubted him, they could go ask Akainu's adjutant—his only tasks were probably limited to cleaning the office.
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