The news of the Pirate King Roger's impending public execution in Loguetown spread quickly across the seas with the latest papers. Although the capture of Roger had been previously reported, many had treated it as "fake news" after the initial shock faded, especially since the Navy made no official statements for nearly half a month afterward.

To the average person, it simply seemed impossible, a pirate who had ruled the seas for decades, captured by a mere teenage vice admiral? The idea was too outrageous to believe. Even with Yoriichi's past feat of killing Golden Lion Shiki, most still couldn't accept it as truth.

But with the Navy now announcing Roger's public execution, Yoriichi, the not-even-fifteen-year-old vice admiral, once again entered the public eye.

After all, this time the Navy wasn't just talking, they were preparing a worldwide broadcast. Transponder snails had already been installed throughout Loguetown. When the day came, there would be no more room for doubt.

Ordinary citizens were ecstatic. Under the influence of World Government propaganda, Roger had long been portrayed as a ruthless demon. To them, seeing such a monster captured and executed by the "just" Navy was cause for celebration.

Those close to Roger weren't surprised. They had heard he was suffering from a terminal illness, and that he had chosen to surrender himself near the end of his journey. Roger had mentioned it to several people after leaving South Blue.

Former crewmates and pirates who admired him were already on their way to Loguetown. Even far-off Dressrosa saw a sudden drop in the number of powerful and chaotic presences wandering the island.

Yoriichi, who had been worried about large pirate groups descending on Dressrosa, relaxed visibly after noticing this shift.

On the 25th of September, Sea Circle Calendar 1500, the skies were clear and the seas calm.

Yoriichi spent the morning "supervising" Borsalino as he processed a mountain of backlogged documents. Now he finally had some free time, sitting on the office sofa and gazing out the window.

"Oi oi oi, Vice Admiral Yoriichi," Borsalino groaned. "Give me a break, will you? Sure, I'm your deputy now, but I'm still a Marine Headquarters vice admiral!"

"The way you boss me around, I'm starting to feel a little underappreciated, y'know! This paperwork, that's your job as base commander! I'm just the operations advisor, remember?"

He finally finished the last document and set down his pen, stretching lazily.

Ever since being assigned to Yoriichi's Dawn Division by Sengoku, Borsalino had finally begun to understand what it meant to be worked like a pack mule.

Back at headquarters, even as a vice admiral, his daily life was practically leisure. With a responsible admiral like Sengoku handling most affairs himself, Borsalino only had to sip tea, occasionally train, and go on missions when ordered. Life was peaceful and pleasant.

As a Logia user, he had never really focused on improving his strength. Lazy to the bone, he avoided training whenever possible.

During his academy days, his attitude had made him a thorn in Zephyr's side for years. After joining the active forces, he'd let loose even more.

But now, ever since Yoriichi "caught" him, he had been stuck processing stacks of paperwork every day, work that really should've been done by the base commander.

Although lazy, Borsalino had years of experience as a vice admiral. He was surprisingly efficient with administrative work.

That didn't mean he enjoyed it.

The Dawn Division, though just a regional branch, was large and had significant autonomy. A newly built power center in the New World had far more daily responsibilities than any idle vice admiral at HQ.

Even Borsalino, with his experience, needed a full morning to finish a day's worth of paperwork. Many tasks required coordination with various departments in Dressrosa's government. Signing his name wasn't enough.

All this office work was starting to fray his nerves.

"Vice Admiral Borsalino, what are you saying?" Yoriichi sipped coffee with legs crossed, eyes on the window. "These are critical branch documents. I thought it over carefully before assigning them to you."

"I'm still young, not very experienced. Asking someone as seasoned as you to handle them is only logical, don't you think?"

"It's all for justice. Should we really be splitting hairs over 'your work' and 'my work'? Your sense of duty needs improvement."

The coffee he was drinking came from beans recently gifted by King Riku. Since the Navy base had been established on Dressrosa, the kingdom's trade had flourished.

To diversify beyond tourism, King Riku consulted with botanists and began cultivating coffee as an economic crop. This first harvest had been roasted and delivered to Yoriichi as a gift.

Though he and the king had never met, the exchange of gifts had never ceased.

"Compared to you, legs crossed and sipping coffee like a boss, I must already be quite devoted to justice," Borsalino grumbled, rolling his eyes.

With time, their familiarity had grown. They no longer stood on ceremony. Despite the age gap, Borsalino had never treated Yoriichi like a kid.

Even though Yoriichi held slightly higher authority, they were both vice admirals. Borsalino had seniority in years of service.

In the military, it wouldn't be strange for a long-serving senior to ignore a younger superior. Even in modern armies, a senior sergeant might slam their fist on a general's desk, you better believe it.

"Hey, I wasn't idle either," Yoriichi said. "I was training my Observation Haki. At my age, I still have room to grow. Strength comes first, you know."

He waved lazily, then reached under the coffee table and retrieved a tea set.

"Here, a little reward. This tea is a special supply from King Riku. Much rarer than these coffee beans."

"Consider yourself lucky."

He poured a cup and tapped the table with a grin.

"Oho? That's quite the honor," Borsalino replied sarcastically. He took the cup, examined the brew, and sipped. "Not bad."

Of all his habits, Borsalino most loved good food and drink.

"Since you've enjoyed the tea... I have a favor to ask," Yoriichi said with a smile. As soon as Borsalino heard that, he froze, setting the cup down slowly and pushing it away.

Yoriichi chuckled at the reaction. "You've already drunk it. Not like you can give it to someone else."

"Don't worry, it's nothing hard. Easier than the paperwork, at least."

He gestured toward the stack of finished documents. Borsalino didn't answer, only picked the tea back up and took another sip.

"After lunch, spar with me."

"Mihawk and Issho are out. It's been a while since I moved my body. I need to stay sharp."

"You'll join me, right?"

Borsalino sighed and set the cup down again. Before he could refuse, Yoriichi tossed him a tin canister.

"This tea's yours."

Borsalino caught it, glanced at Yoriichi, and felt speechless.

What kind of bribe was this? What officer wouldn't fall for this trap?

He was about to refuse when Yoriichi added, "You've been working hard. How about a couple days off?"

"What do you say?"

His eyes lit up. He cleared his throat and nodded solemnly. "I think... that's acceptable."

Yoriichi smiled. "You mean sparring is acceptable, or the vacation?"

"Both."

Borsalino set the tea down, picked up his cup again, and took another sip.

"Then I'll count on you."

While they joked over tea and coffee in Dressrosa, Kyros and the others were still sailing the wide seas.

After nearly a month, they finally entered Orlan Kingdom's waters. A few inquiries and a local guide later, they learned the location of Patrilia Island.

However, when they arrived, they were stunned. For such a remote island, the port was shockingly busy.

Over twenty white-hulled ships lined the coast. Several bore the emblem of the World Government.

Kyros narrowed his eyes in alarm.

"What now?" Mihawk asked. "Looks like we're late."

"Should we go ashore?"

"No. Absolutely not," Kyros said firmly. "If we approach carelessly, we'll be discovered. That would bring trouble to the vice admiral."

"Then what do we do?" Mihawk asked, entirely calm.

"Don't worry. I've got an idea."

Kyros returned to the cabin, pulled out a Den Den Mushi, and dialed Yoriichi.

Before he could speak, Yoriichi's voice came through:

"You're calling at this hour... must be something tricky, right?"

"Kyros, say no more."

"Just remember, whatever you do next, act in the name of justice. As long as it aligns with your sense of justice, I will support you."

"No matter what."

Before Kyros could respond, Yoriichi hung up.

In the Dressrosa training yard, Yoriichi sheathed his bamboo sword and tucked the Den Den Mushi away.

He didn't know exactly what had happened, but he trusted Kyros and the others as much as he trusted his own blade.

Across from him, Borsalino lay flat on the ground, gasping for breath.

"Was that Kyros?"

"Did something happen?"

Yoriichi smiled and shook his head.

"Nothing major. Just life's crossroads."

"Let's continue."

Back on the ship, Kyros stared at the receiver for a moment, then tucked the Den Den Mushi away and stepped out.

Mihawk and Issho both looked over, waiting.

"The vice admiral said as long as it's justice, he'll back us," Kyros said.

Issho smiled knowingly. Mihawk looked toward the harbor and muttered, "Justice is your Marine problem. I'll act according to what I think is right."

Kyros nodded without arguing.

"Prepare to go ashore."

"They've probably already spotted our ship. If we leave now, it'll look suspicious."

"Either way, we need to see what's happening."

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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter

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