After cadging that little favor out of Sengoku, Ozz was in fine spirits. He slipped out of the reception hall on the pretext of getting some air, shrugged off his cloak, and with a light step blinked into Marineford proper, neatly sidestepping the wall of reporters lurking outside for scraps about the Black Emperor or the newly minted Warlords.
Under a clean blue sky, Marineford's orderliness had its own kind of bustle. The Warlord ceremony hadn't knocked this half-military island off rhythm in the slightest.
Strolling down the main street in a tailored suit, the tall, handsome Ozz sipped an orange juice. His cool, effortless poise turned more than a few heads, which in turn drew the attention of patrolling Marines.
"That's Black Gun Ozz."
"Hey."
"No, stand down. Admiral Sengoku already notified us. That's Ozz Saint of the Celestial Dragons."
Ozz had meant to take a nostalgic look around, but he was no longer here as a pirate. The moment he showed his face, the Marines spotted him. As when he'd once donned a rear admiral's coat as a disguise, every Marine who saw him, however unwilling, snapped to salute.
"You're very polite, soldiers."
He nodded back. He'd grown used to that blend of respect and fear, though it felt different coming from Marines.
Of course, not everyone saluted with a whole heart. Ozz's gaze slipped to one outlier in the ranks.
He stopped.
Turning, he picked her out from the back row. She was striking, with a sharp black bob and cool blue eyes, leather boots and black vest over long legs in skin-tight pants. The spiked choker at her throat made the ID immediate.
"Hey."
"You there, Marine."
The air went tight. Ozz had singled someone out. All eyes turned to the same point.
"Rear Admiral Doll."
She was one of the rising stars in the current command training cohort, a future flag officer in the making. And unlike the others, the still-young Doll didn't flinch under Ozz's gaze.
Just a pirate. Even slapping a Celestial Dragon title on top only made him more contemptible. In Doll's book, both labels spelled trouble. Pirates and Celestial Dragons were the twin engines of this era's chaos.
Not that Ozz had ever pretended to be a good person. He sometimes did villainous things purely for amusement.
"Your name is Doll, right."
Her jaw set. "Yeah. Problem with that."
She kept her tone flat. She disliked him, that was obvious, but she wasn't stupid enough to cross a Celestial Dragon outright. A frosty attitude the admirals could shield. Actual insubordination, though, and even Fleet Admiral Kong would have limits.
But instead of lording it over her, Ozz's eyes lit with interest.
"In that case, you can show me around Marineford."
A guide.
"I…"
Her first instinct was to refuse. The look in his eye said this might be a setup.
As if reading her mind, Ozz spoke first.
"You plan to refuse, Marine. Refuse a Celestial Dragon's request for assistance."
Of course he would lean. What was the point of being a Celestial Dragon if you didn't pressure the Marines now and then.
He had no intention of being sordid about it. He simply enjoyed meeting canon names and poking at them. Lending his reputation to the World Government to calm the seas had bought him that right. Among pirates, being the Black Emperor meant face everywhere. Among Marines, being a Celestial Dragon meant they could not make him an enemy on sight. Someone was always obliged to give ground.
If he appeared as a mere pirate, any Marine he found interesting would try to kill him first and talk later. As Ozz Saint, they had to stay civil.
He looked her up and down, a little younger than in the papers, a touch more fresh in the face. His expression said it all.
I like the ones who can't stand me and still have to follow orders.
"Take me to the officers' bars and haunts, Lieutenant General."
He wouldn't play this way with Sengoku and the old guard. With the younger ones, though, it was fun.
"Tch."
Biting back a retort and finding no way around it, Doll flicked her justice cloak and took point. Ozz followed, the picture of a tourist.
As they walked, Ozz prodded at what passed for civil service in this world.
"So how much does a Marine make a month."
"…Rear admiral. Five hundred thousand Beli."
"That little. And the hours."
"…On call. Always."
"You really keep the lights on for justice."
He had touched a nerve. Even if she disliked him, Doll couldn't help venting. Maybe it was his casual tone. Maybe he simply seemed easy to talk to.
"Exactly. It used to be at least a million. Then the World Government kept cutting our budget. You're a Celestial Dragon, aren't you. Get the Marines a raise."
He tugged one corner of his mouth. He had no desire to micromanage their books, even if those cuts probably traced back to him one way or another.
"Too small a matter. Besides, what I rake in each month would cover lifetime salaries for every Marine in Headquarters."
"You rich, unkind bastard, Ozz Saint."
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