"That punk Doberman actually made it to Rear Admiral... and here we are still messing around. Ugh."
On the journey to the New World, Pemberton wore a face full of envy and frustration. Doberman had been their peer, once holding the same rank as him and even lower than Jon.
But in the blink of an eye, Doberman had surpassed both of them. Who wouldn't be jealous?
Jon, however, remained calm. "Doberman is impressive. He's got both strength and ability, and he knows how to play the game. I'm not surprised he rose through the ranks so quickly."
Doberman's promotion wasn't shocking to Jon. He knew Doberman's skills well—capable and politically savvy. It would've been surprising if he hadn't been promoted.
"I'm just worried for you," Pemberton muttered. "Doberman's not as good as you. If even he's a Rear Admiral and you're still a Commodore..."
"I'm out here now, aren't I?" Jon replied. "As long as we earn some military merit, a promotion to Rear Admiral—or even Vice Admiral—is just a matter of time."
"Sure, that's the idea. But falling behind even once makes catching up harder. You'll have to work twice as hard to close the gap. Back when you were assigned to the Strategy Department, we were all so jealous... but now? That place's got its limits. It's way harder to rise in rank there. If it weren't for Vice Admiral Tsuru backing you, who knows how long it would've taken for you to shine."
Jon didn't argue. Pemberton had a point. The Strategy Department had both pros and cons. Outside of Tsuru, the highest-ranking officer there was a female Rear Admiral. Promotions were indeed slower than in other departments.
Still, Jon didn't regret joining Strategy. It gave him time to train and improve himself. Plus, Tsuru had supported him in many ways. If he hadn't had such ambition, staying in Strategy under her guidance wouldn't have been a bad life at all.
"Commodore Jon, we're approaching G1 Base. Should we dock directly?"
Heimer ran up to Jon for orders.
"Just call me Jon," Jon replied casually.
Heimer shook his head. "Can't do that. Friendship's one thing, but protocol is protocol."
On this trip to the New World, Jon had brought Pemberton and several trusted men from the 47th Branch—like Heimer, who grew up with him.
Jon sighed. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy."
"We're almost at G1 Base? Head straight to the port."
They were on a Navy warship—no inspections needed. They could dock directly.
Once they entered G1, Jon headed straight to report to the base commander—only to be stunned when he saw who it was.
"Sakazuki?! You're the base commander?"
Jon and Pemberton were both shocked to see Sakazuki.
"You're in charge of G1? When did that happen? We didn't hear anything!"
The ever-serious Sakazuki relaxed a bit when he saw his old friends.
"I was promoted to Vice Admiral while you were off in the South Blue. I requested a transfer to the New World. The previous base commander was about to retire, so I took over."
Jon finally understood. While he was away, so much had changed—Sakazuki had already been promoted and was now in command of one of the most powerful bases.
Pemberton looked even more defeated. He had been jealous of Doberman, but seeing Sakazuki's promotion made jealousy seem pointless—it was too overwhelming.
"Well, then."
Jon straightened up, saluted, and formally announced, "Vice Admiral Sakazuki, Commodore Lyons Jon, reporting as ordered by Fleet Admiral Sengoku."
Joking aside, Sakazuki was now his direct superior, and Jon respected the chain of command.
Pemberton was a bit slower to react, but he quickly followed suit.
"Enough with the formalities," Sakazuki said. "We've been friends for years. Come in and sit."
Sakazuki may have been stern and rigid, but once he considered you a friend, he was loyal to the core.
Jon was still getting used to the shift but sat across from him.
Sakazuki pointed to another man in the room. "This is Rear Admiral Momonga. He's my right-hand man."
Momonga stood and greeted them. "Commodore Jon, Colonel Pemberton. Pleased to meet you. We trained under the same master, after all—I'm also a student of Zephyr, two classes after you."
That made Jon and Pemberton feel even worse.
First Sakazuki, now Momonga—even someone two years their junior had outranked them. What had they been doing all this time?
Still, Jon and Pemberton saluted Momonga respectfully. No matter the background, rank was rank.
This only hardened Jon's resolve—he needed to rise in rank as soon as possible, or he'd be left in the dust by all these juniors.
"Sakazuki, I heard you requested us personally?" Jon asked.
"That's right. You've all been working hard—if you didn't come out here and push yourself, you'd be falling behind."
Sakazuki rarely joked, even with friends.
"The New World isn't like the first half of the Grand Line. Pirates here are on a whole different level. And we don't just deal with pirates. Underground organizations, too. But you're not wrong—if you want military merit, this is the place."
Guys like Sakazuki and Borsalino had risen quickly through blood and battle.
"Even better," Jon grinned. "I've been itching for some real action."
He needed intense battles with strong opponents to grow. He had reached a bottleneck—only the New World could help him break through.
"Good. The G1 region is huge. I won't limit your area—if there's danger, I'm sending you. That alright?"
Jon was more than ready. "Absolutely."
But he added, "By the way, Sakazuki—could you help gather intel on the Big Mom Pirates? I'm not leaving the New World without returning the favor."
"Big Mom Pirates, huh?"
Sakazuki hesitated. Their territory was far from G1 Base, and normally their paths wouldn't cross.
But he nodded. "I'll reach out to other bases and gather what intel I can. Just don't get reckless. Charlotte Linlin is no joke."
Jon smirked. "Don't worry. I already learned my lesson. There won't be a second time."
The intel request was clearly for revenge—but only if it didn't interfere with his official duties.
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