South Blue, Sorbet Kingdom.
The country did not seem prosperous. Crushing taxes weighed heavily on its people's lives. Still, it had not yet been split apart under the trendous pressure of the Heavenly Tribute.
In a town in the southern region, Ortoren, wearing the Marines' cloak of justice, held a map in hand. He occasionally glanced at the surrounding buildings, confirming his bearings.
After turning through two streets, he finally found what he was looking for—a sowhat old but neatly kept church.
Indeed, this world held many religions.
There was Sister Carl, deeply connected to Charlotte Linlin, who outwardly appeared rciful and kind, yet in truth was a human trafficker.
There was also Urouge, one of the later Supernovas, a devout Buddhist.
And though he had never been there himself, Ortoren had learned in cultural studies about the Kano Country of the West Blue, with its tradition of Taoist faith.
But none of these religious powers were particularly strong, nor worth much ntion.
Soon, Ortoren folded away his newspaper and approached the church. Its doors were open, and inside were many people, most of them elderly.
From a distance, he noticed a tall figure in the church courtyard. That figure was using his ability to help the old and frail ease their illnesses.
Though towering, his face still held a trace of youth. He looked no older than his early twenties.
It was Bartholow Kuma. If Ortoren rembered correctly, he should be twenty-two this year.
In Ortoren's impression, Bartholow Kuma had always carried a solemn expression, rarely smiling, with an overwhelming dignity about him.
Yet here, the young Kuma had a gentle, approachable smile. With his ability, he tapped away the fatigue, backaches, and lingering pains of the elders, quietly absorbing them himself.
He wore a patched priest's robe that carried a sense of poverty, but his face showed no trace of hardship—only a smile filled with hope for the future.
Seeing this, Ortoren felt a pang of sorrow. This world was beautiful and captivating, yet for many unfortunate people, it was cruel and unforgiving from the very start.
Gion had once said that Rosinante was absurdly kind, like a saint. Ortoren had never wanted to comnt on that, but if one were to speak of true kindness, he found himself admiring Bartholow Kuma more.
Ortoren did not step inside. He simply stood across the street, silently watching the warm scene unfold.
Five or six minutes later, Bartholow Kuma wiped the sweat from his brow, saw an elder off, and happened to glance back. That was when he noticed Ortoren, who had been watching him all along.
The sudden sight of a strange Marine officer startled Kuma, almost making him rise to his feet. But seeing that Ortoren only wore a faint smile and made no move to approach, he quickly cald himself again.
Forcing himself not to think too much of it, Kuma continued to draw away the pain of the next elder. In this way, more than two hours passed before he finally sent off the last person who had co to the church for blessings.
Afterward, he stood at the church entrance, gazing across the street at Ortoren with a puzzled look.
Only then did Ortoren step forward. Crossing the street, he reached the church doors. Peering into the courtyard, he asked:
"Do you do this every day? Drawing the elders' pain out of their bodies and taking it on yourself?"
Bartholow Kuma seed to recognize him. He was in the habit of reading the papers, and Ortoren had made headlines not long ago.
Listening to Ortoren's question, Bartholow Kuma scratched the back of his head with a simple, honest look.
"Pretty much. But today there are a lot of people—it's not usually like this..."
"Is that so?" Ortoren let out a soft sigh. "Doesn't doing this make you feel uncomfortable?"
"Not at all." Kuma's face lit up with a contented smile. "Helping others within my ability—shouldn't that be sothing to be happy about?"
Ortoren paused for a mont before smiling. "You're absolutely right."
"Are you here to arrest ?" Kuma asked, his voice carrying a trace of tension. After a short pause, he added, "If so, could you wait until the day after tomorrow? An old man scheduled for treatnt tomorrow. He can't get out of bed, so I need to visit his ho..."
Hearing this, Ortoren was at a loss for words.
Just then, a woman suddenly rushed out of the church, holding a long-barreled musket. Her short, cropped hair gave her a sharp, aggressive presence. Compared to Kuma's gentle deanor, she radiated boldness and defiance.
Ortoren recognized her instantly—Ginny, another soul scarred by misfortune, just like Bartholow Kuma.
"You bastard Marine! What do you want with Kuma? Get out of this church! You're not welco here!" Ginny leveled her gun at Ortoren, shouting.
Ortoren smiled and raised his hands. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not here to arrest you."
At those simple words, Kuma's face relaxed into a smile. "That's great! So you're not here to arrest us? I'm relieved..."
Ginny, however, kicked Kuma's ankle in frustration. "Kuma, you're way too trusting! Who knows what he's really here for? Don't let your guard down!"
"Now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself," Ortoren said with a smile. "I'm Benn Ortoren, Rear Admiral of Marine Headquarters. I'm just passing through on a different mission that has nothing to do with you, so there's no need to be so tense."
Ginny, sensing no malice from him, reluctantly lowered her gun but muttered coldly, "We don't welco Marines—or any lackeys of the World Governnt—here."
Kuma opened his mouth, wanting to remind her that words like that could be hurtful. But seeing the unhappiness written across Ginny's face, he held back.
Ortoren shrugged and sighed. "Alright, no need to get so worked up. I'll leave."
In truth, he had never planned to cause trouble. Part of the reason he ca was simply because it was on his way. The other was to catch a glimpse of Bartholow Kuma and Ginny while they still had this fleeting happiness.
The ti they spent in this church might be the happiest period of their lives. So not disturbing them—not interfering—was the greatest kindness Ortoren could show.
Taking two steps back, Ortoren suddenly grew serious.
"Despite being treated cruelly by the world, you still choose to face it with kindness and hope. I deeply respect that. Both of you possess truly noble character and genuine goodness—qualities I admire. So please rember my na: Benn Ortoren."
"To many, including the two of you, Marines may not seem like good people. I won't deny that. The Marines do face many difficult problems. But there's one thing I want to set straight: I am not a lackey of the World Governnt. If either of you ever needs help in the future, I'll gladly offer it."
With those words, Ortoren smiled warmly at them. Lightning flickered beneath his feet, and in an instant, he vanished from sight.
Ginny stared after him in confusion. "What was that about?"
"No idea. When I first noticed him, he was across the street, smiling kindly and just watching ..." Kuma replied, just as puzzled.
"What a strange Marine... Still, at least he wasn't here to arrest us. You recognized him, right? That guy... he's the one they hyped in the papers—the really strong Marine!" Ginny said quickly.
"Yeah, yeah, I recognized him!" Kuma nodded earnestly.
Then, after a pause, he smiled softly. "I don't know why, but he said he respects us. Isn't this the first ti anyone's ever said they respect us? I'm so happy, Ginny!"
"Respect...?" Ginny's eyes flickered with a complicated look. As forr slaves, that was a feeling they had rarely experienced.
But she quickly pushed the thought aside and kicked Kuma's leg with a scowl. "You big idiot! Don't go trusting people's words so easily. If you keep this up, one day you'll pay for it!"
Kuma rubbed his leg with a pout, muttering softly, "But without trust, how can people ever understand each other?"
Ginny froze, montarily unable to argue back. After a beat, she stomped her foot angrily.
"Fine! But don't co crying to for comfort when you get tricked, you idiot!"
...
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