In the spacious office, the air was filled with a faint scent of sweat and hormones.
Gion was completely sprawled on the leather sofa, her training uniform soaked with sweat, tightly outlining her breathtakingly graceful curves. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes unfocused, and she didn't want to move even a single finger.
At her feet lay a standard Marine service cutlass that was already dull and even had a section broken off.
"I can't anymore... Rear Admiral Tatsuki, I really... can't..."
These few days of "personal instruction" had allowed her understanding of swordsmanship to advance by leaps and bounds, but the physical exhaustion was also terrifying.
"Already calling it quits?"
Tatsuki sat comfortably behind the desk, leisurely sipping a cup of black tea, his gaze sweeping over Gion's undulating curves.
Tsk, truly top-tier.
The hands-on teaching over the past few days certainly provided an excellent feel.
He put down his teacup, his gaze falling upon Gion's tattered cutlass, and frowned slightly.
It wasn't just because the sword was broken, it was because he realized that if Gion couldn't continue the high-intensity "special training" due to the lack of a good sword, wouldn't he lose a lot of evening entertainment?
More importantly, Tatsuki looked down at his own waist. The pitch-black Tensa Zangetsu was still hanging bare, without a scabbard.
Although the System Space was convenient, as a dignified Great Swordsman, he couldn't pull his sword out as if he were retrieving it from his crotch every time, it lacked any pretense of style.
'It looks like I need to make a trip to the Logistics Department.'
Tatsuki set down his teacup, a calculating glint flashing in his eyes.
—
Marineford, Logistics Equipment Department.
This was the most lucrative area in all of Marineford. The massive steel warehouses were like a maze, and the air was thick with the mixed scent of oil, anti-rust paint, and aged wooden crates.
The administrator of Elite Warehouse No. 3 was a Captain named Charlie, a scrawny old hand.
His uniform buttons were undone, he was chewing on a cheap cigar, and he was reading a newspaper with his legs crossed, until he saw the dazzling gold star on Tatsuki's shoulder, at which point he stood up and gave a rather sloppy salute.
"Rear Admiral Tatsuki, what brings you to my humble little place?"
"Get me a scabbard for my sword."
Tatsuki was concise, but his gaze was already sweeping like radar over the mountain of wooden crates deep inside the warehouse.
"A scabbard? Easy." Charlie grinned, pointing to a row of standard scabbards on the counter.
"Flag Officer standard issue: white lacquer, gold pattern, and the large word 'Justice' printed on it—it gives you tons of prestige when you take it out."
Tatsuki glanced at it, and the corner of his lips twitched involuntarily.
Utterly tacky.
If Tensa Zangetsu had a Sword Spirit, it would probably commit suicide instantly if inserted into something like this.
"Too ugly."
Tatsuki commented bluntly, "My sword has a bit of a temper and doesn't like flashy things. I'll choose myself."
"Choose yourself?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"Rear Admiral Tatsuki, everything in the warehouse is registered. Even if it's just a scabbard, taking it requires following procedure."
"Oh?" Tatsuki smiled.
He took a step forward, his tall figure bringing intense pressure. "Are you suggesting that I, a Rear Admiral, need multiple levels of approval from a Lieutenant Officer just to pick a suitable scabbard for my sword?"
"No, no, that's not what I meant!" Sweat formed on Charlie's forehead, but he kept smiling. "Rules are rules, after all."
Tatsuki didn't speak again, simply walking straight into the dustiest area and rummaging through the piles of junk.
The items here were varied: golden scimitars studded with fake gems, daggers with cursed patterns, and even rusty iron rods.
"Tsk, the taste of this generation of pirates is really poor."
Just as Tatsuki was about to lose patience, his gaze was suddenly drawn to something beneath a rotten wooden shelf in the corner. It was a section of a black object exposed to view.
Tatsuki reached out and pulled it out, gently blowing away the thick layer of dust on it.
His initial impatience instantly vanished, replaced by a satisfied smile.
It was a scabbard made entirely of unknown black sinkwood, cold and heavy to the touch.
Best of all, several irregular dark red stripes snaked across the pitch-black body of the scabbard, resembling dried blood, exuding a suppressed, dangerous, and sinister beauty.
"It's practically tailor-made for Zangetsu."
Tatsuki drew Tensa Zangetsu with a backhand motion and gently guided it toward the scabbard opening.
Click.
A crisp, pleasant clicking sound rang out.
A perfect fit!
The black hilt, connected by a chain, paired with this black and red striped scabbard, made the entire sword instantly become one cohesive unit. Its soaring sharpness was perfectly contained, transforming instead into a deep, chilling aura.
"Excellent taste, Rear Admiral." Charlie sidled over, his face wreathed in smiles. "This color scheme is luxurious yet understated, you can tell it's a divine weapon at a glance."
Tatsuki hung the sword at his waist, but his gaze went past Charlie, landing on a long, rectangular wooden box deep inside the warehouse, crushed under several boxes of cannonballs.
His Observation Haki had long since sensed a sharp energy there, not intense, but extremely tenacious.
"Uh... Rear Admiral, that area holds seized items awaiting approval, you can't..."
Tatsuki ignored him, walked over, and single-handedly flipped open the heavy box of cannonballs, retrieving the dust-covered wooden box.
The moment the lid was opened, a flash of pink-gold light swept through the dim warehouse.
A slender Katana lay quietly inside the box. The scabbard was a magnificent gold lacquer color, adorned with exquisite pink cherry blossom patterns, and the Tsuba was shaped like a rare four-leaf clover.
At the mouth of the scabbard, a character was engraved—[Konpira].
One of the 21 Great Grade Blades!
The signature sword of the Admiral Candidate "Momousagi" in the original work!
"This sword..." Charlie's expression changed.
"Oh, I remember now. Vice Admiral Garp brought this back as spoils of war from the New World a few years ago. Because the color was too girly, no one wanted to use it, so it's just been left here."
"No one wanted to use it?" Tatsuki smiled, a meaningful look in his eyes.
He closed the lid with a 'snap,' then very naturally tucked the box under his armpit.
"Then I'll take it."
harlie rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Well... according to regulations, even though you are a Rear Admiral, taking a named weapon still requires following a procedure, filling out a form, and reporting it to Admiral Sengoku for approval..."
"Too troublesome."
Tatsuki shook his head, then pulled a thick envelope from his coat.
He subtly slipped the envelope into Charlie's open pocket, and even helped him fasten the button.
"The weather has been dry lately, and I see the brothers in the Logistics Department working hard. Consider this money my treat for everyone to have some tea."
Tatsuki's voice was gentle and sincere, his eyes full of "sympathy for subordinates."
Charlie felt his chest sink, and the thickness made his heart pound. He subtly weighed the contents, and the wrinkles on his face instantly crinkled into a radiant smile.
"Oh, Rear Admiral, you are too kind. Showing concern for your subordinates—you truly are a role model for us."
Charlie quickly glanced left and right, lowering his voice. "Since it's tea money... feel free to take whatever junk in this warehouse catches your eye. As for this sword... did I see this sword? No, right? It must have been carried off by a mouse."
"Indeed, the mice in this warehouse are quite large." Tatsuki patted Charlie's shoulder.
The two exchanged a knowing smile, everything understood without words.
[Ding! Detected that the Host has bribed a Marine Colleague and embezzled public property.]
[Gained Violation Points: 1200!]
Listening to the pleasant system notification sound, Tatsuki was in high spirits. Clasping the legendary sword, he strode out of the warehouse with a swagger.