One Piece: So What If I Sin, Lie, and Lust? I'm Still a Good Marine Chapter 373: Volume 3 – - 16: They Can Wait

Daren stepped out of the steam-filled shower, gave himself a quick towel down, then wrapped it around his waist and slowly walked over to the mirror.

With a swipe of his hand, he cleared the condensation from the glass, revealing a strikingly handso, unruly face.

Sharp eyes, blade-like brows, and a prominent nose lent his features a chiseled, commanding look. His damp, tousled black hair stood casually upright, giving off a wild, defiant air.

His bare upper body was lean and powerful, muscles taut and defined. Broad pecs, sculpted abs, wide shoulders, and countless scars crisscrossing his torso made him look like a predator in wait—a coiled leopard brimming with lethal force.

"Finally... it's here."

Daren smirked at his reflection, lit a cigarette, and murmured softly.

Today marked the graduation ceremony of the Marine Headquarters Officer Training Camp.

And today, he would officially rise to the rank of Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters.

In the original plot of this pirate-infested world, a Vice Admiral might've seed like little more than set dressing—just another rank, a convenient yardstick for protagonists to showcase their strength. Ordinary, forgettable.

But after living in this world himself, Daren knew better. Becoming a Vice Admiral was the pinnacle many spent their entire lives chasing across these vast seas.

In terms of strength, a Marine Vice Admiral was expected to have mastered both forms of Haki, and to skillfully wield several superhuman combat techniques. So elite Vice Admirals could even stand toe-to-toe with the Shichibukai.

In terms of authority, they commanded their own warships and had direct control over thousands of elite Marines. When stationed abroad, they could oversee entire sea regions, with full jurisdiction over major Marine branches along the Grand Line.

Whether it was power, status, influence, or reputation—Vice Admirals were so of the most formidable forces on the sea, the backbone of justice in this world.

And now, this day had finally co for Daren.

From a lowly Navy janitor scrubbing toilets to standing on the edge of real power, his climb had been one of brutal perseverance. More than anyone, he knew what the title of Vice Admiral truly ant—and just how hard it was to earn.

Endless days of training. Countless battles where he danced on the edge of death. Sleepless nights plotting his next move. Bloodshed. Betrayal. Sacrifice...

And now, he was here.

"Husband."

A soft voice drifted in from behind.

Amatsuki Toki stepped into the bathroom, dressed in a loose, flowing kimono. She held a freshly pressed Marine uniform in her hands.

Her eyes sparkled with admiration and affection as she spoke gently.

"Your uniform is ready."

Daren smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, Toki."

She shook her head with a soft smile.

"Today is a big day for you. I'm so happy."

She looked him over and hesitated for a mont before asking,

"Husband... are you nervous?"

Daren paused, then suddenly chuckled.

"Nervousness is for the weak—people who feel they don't deserve the position they're in."

"But ..."

He crushed the cigarette in an ashtray, turned around, and pulled her close with an arm around her slender waist.

With a flick of his fingers, her pink sash ca undone.

Her light kimono slid from her smooth, pale body like a whisper.

"I'm right where I belong."

As Toki let out a soft gasp, Daren held her tightly against him.

"H-Husband..."

She instinctively tried to resist, but quickly lted under his touch, gasping softly.

"You... the graduation ceremony... it's about to start... there's not enough ti..."

She was breathless, cheeks flushed, eyes shimring.

Seeing her like that, Daren couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he pressed her down, all restraint gone.

"They can wait... I can't."

...

At the Sa Ti.

Marineford, Marine Headquarters—just outside the gates of the Officer Training Camp.

The square was packed with people.

A grand platform had been set up long in advance, with a long red carpet stretching from the center of the stage all the way to the far end of the plaza.

Elite Marines, dressed in full uniform, stood as a solemn honor guard, maintaining order with sharp vigilance.

Closest to the platform were rows of reserved seats, all occupied by the most powerful figures in the Marine Headquarters.

Fleet Admiral Kong, code na "Steel Bone."

Admiral Sengoku, one of the World Governnt's top combat powers, code na "The Buddha."

Forr Admiral Zephyr, Chief Instructor of the Officer Training Camp, code na "Black Arm."

Vice Admiral Tsuru, the Marine Headquarters' Chief of Staff.

Vice Admiral Garp, code na "Iron Fist."

Just behind them, every other seat was also filled.

These were the backbone of the Marines—the base commanders of headquarters and distant outposts alike. Commodores, Rear Admirals, and officers of every rank...

They fanned out from the central platform like crashing waves. The closer to the stage, the closer one stood to the very heart of Marine power.

Besides them, many officials from the World Governnt were in attendance, along with royal and noble representatives from allied nations.

Reporters from news agencies around the globe had gathered as well, their caras—both large and small—waving eagerly in the hands of excited journalists.

Everyone was jostling for position, desperate to capture the perfect shot.

After all, the Marine Headquarters Officer Training Camp graduation ceremony was a global event that could shake the world.

Since Zephyr took charge as the camp's chief instructor, it had produced countless talented and elite Marines.

There had been the likes of Sakazuki and Borsalino, "monsters" who'd already carved out fearso reputations across the seas.

And now, newcors like Daren and Kuzan had risen—bearing the sa "monster" label and making a brilliant na for themselves in the recent Battle of Marineford.

The dia had not been shy with their praise, hailing Zephyr and the training camp as the "Cradle of Stars."

And based on nurous reports and sources, this year's class was said to be the strongest in the camp's history.

Led by Rogers Daren, the "Golden Generation" was on the verge of graduation.

What ranks would they receive? Where would they be stationed? Every detail was pri material for headlines.

Not to ntion, this very ceremony would also include the awarding of honors to those who distinguished themselves during Shiki's assault.

Sensing blood in the water, the press had dropped everything and sward the scene like sharks, desperate for coverage—even if it ant being crushed in the crowd.

At the outer edge of the square, thousands of rank-and-file Marines and countless excited civilians gathered, packing the area shoulder to shoulder.

The massive plaza was filled to bursting. Shouts, chatter, footsteps—it was a roaring sea of sound.

Yet amid all the noise, in the front row...

Fleet Admiral Kong sat with his brow deeply furrowed. He turned toward Sengoku and Zephyr, clearly irritated.

"What ti do you call this? Why isn't that kid Daren here yet?"

"You told him, didn't you? What the hell is he doing!?"