The many techniques of Okama Kenpo were demonstrated by Klein and explained in detail to Tsuru, who learned a lot from them.
However...
Some of the moves in that martial art were downright embarrassing. Even though Klein kept a straight face, it felt like his face was being roasted over open flames—scorching hot.
Meanwhile, Tsuru's elegant brows were filled with mirth. Her deep blue eyes shimmered with amusement, and she was clearly holding back a laugh.
She was absolutely trying not to crack up.
'Hey hey hey—where are your manners?!'
After finishing the sequence, Klein schooled his expression into one of complete seriousness, selectively choosing to erase what had just occurred from memory.
"Alright, spill it—what's your money-making idea?!"
This is all for the sake of cash!
Besides, no one else saw him just perform Okama Kenpo except for Tsuru!
No way I'd ever use those shameful moves in real combat!
Absolutely not!!
Once he stepped out that door, he was disavowing everything!
Tsuru adjusted her expression slightly. "I've come up with two money-making ideas. First, the cadets at the academy go through intense training every day, but the only bathing facilities they have are taps in their dorm bathrooms."
"So..."
"We build a bathhouse. It'll definitely make a killing."
Why didn't I think of that?
Klein had been massaging cadets regularly, but he never thought about this angle. That said, he also knew—building a bathhouse at the academy…
That wasn't something he could pull off on his own.
He finally understood why Tsuru had said earlier that she'd need others to cooperate.
This was a legit money-making idea.
Klein nodded. "What's the other one?"
"Reselling newspapers." Tsuru flicked her hair. "It's pretty hard to get news from the outside world here at the academy. We could capitalize on that."
"Compared to the first plan, this one's easier and faster."
A bathhouse, naturally, would bring in more money—and not just from the cadets.
There were loads of Marine soldiers and their families here at Marineford.
Opening a bathhouse...
Would absolutely print money!!
And the profits would be long-term and stable!
Klein fell into thought. Both of Tsuru's suggestions had serious 'money potential.'
As expected of the future Chief Strategist of the Marines—brilliant!
The newspaper plan was simple enough, but for the bathhouse, the only person Klein could think of involving was Instructor Carter.
Looking at Tsuru before him, Klein grinned. "Tsuru, since you're gonna be a partner, you'll have to put in work for the bathhouse too!"
"Obviously. And we're not wasting the second idea either."
With someone this smart around, it'd be criminal not to make use of her talents!
"I figured you'd go with the first one," Tsuru replied with a 'called it' look.
After all, the first plan was the bigger earner and would continue generating cash.
Klein was so obsessed with money, there was no way he'd ignore that suggestion.
Which suited Tsuru just fine.
If I can make money off the bathhouse, I can pay off that five million debt early.
She felt noticeably more relaxed. With a bright smile, she said, "Told you I wasn't lying. Both are solid ideas. But the academy does have a lot of limitations."
"A lot of moneymaking plans just don't fit here."
"Fair enough," Klein chuckled. "Then let's discuss our partnership terms."
And so began a verbal sparring match.
Discussions about profit splits, workload distribution.
As the saying goes…
Men and women working together get things done faster!
Of course, opening a bathhouse would need approval from the academy leadership.
Once the talks wrapped up—
Klein returned to the dorm in high spirits. If the bathhouse gets approved, and I add some elements from massage parlors back in my old life…
I'm gonna be filthy rich!!
In the dorm
The "Iron Triangle" trio hadn't returned yet. Still off doing extra training. When they did return, it was already past midnight.
As soon as they walked in, Klein smiled and said, "Garp, Sengoku, Zephyr—I've got a proposal. Interested?"
Sengoku peeled off his sweat-soaked clothes, revealing his well-defined, streamlined muscles. "Let me guess—it's about money again?"
"..." Klein's face froze. I didn't even say anything about money yet and you're already accusing me?
He shook his head. "Nope."
"Now that's suspicious." Sengoku gave him a side-eye scan. "Do I look like the kind of guy who only cares about money?"
"You do."
Sengoku replied without hesitation, with a face that said I know you better than you know yourself. "So, what's the proposal? Spit it out."
"Ahem—"
Klein said, "I propose we have a sparring session between dormmates. Rank ourselves by strength. Whoever comes out on top is the Big Bro, and the rest follow suit!"
"Whoever ranks lowest becomes the Little Bro."
Zephyr sighed, opting out, "I'm the weakest and the youngest. I'll just be the Little Bro."
Any one of those three could wipe the floor with him right now.
No need to ask for a beating.
"I'm not agreeing to this," Sengoku shot down the idea immediately. It was obvious Klein was currently the strongest in the dorm. This is a trap, clear as day!
He started rummaging through the cabinet for clean clothes to head to the bathroom, but Klein called out:
"Hold up."
"There are four of us in this dorm. You don't get to decide alone. Let's vote—majority rules!"
Sengoku was just about to nod when something clicked. He turned to look at Garp and Zephyr.
But the two of them had already turned their heads away, avoiding eye contact. Sweat poured down their faces.
Swish—
Sengoku instantly got it. He glared at Garp. "You bastard!"
Then turned to Zephyr. "Zephyr! You too?!"
What could they do? Klein made it worth their while.
A year of free massages… plus VIP memberships to his training program...
I wanna improve too!
Zephyr's expression was stiff as stone. He said nothing, but sweat flowed down like a waterfall.
"Fine, fine, fine!" Sengoku was furious. He turned to Klein. "You set me up! You just wanna force me into sparring with you!"
Zephyr chimed in suddenly, "He's got a thing for being called Big Bro."
I do not!
Don't spout nonsense!
I mean, sure, Whitebeard had a habit of collecting sons, but—
Klein grinned. "Just for fun, man. The sparring helps build strength and real battle experience. At this rate, Garp's gonna leave you in the dust..."
"Cut the taunts," Sengoku interrupted. "I'll spar, but don't even think about making me call you Big Bro!"
"Based on age, you should be calling me Big Bro," Klein shot back.
He's 19. I'm 18. Call me bro!
Age-based seniority, baby!
"That just feels wrong!" Sengoku grumbled.
Klein pouted. "It's no fun if you don't!"
Then a lightbulb went off. "How about this—I'll train Garp for a month. Then he'll spar with you."
"If Garp wins, you call me Big Bro."
"If you win, I'll call you Big Bro!"
"Deal?"
He figured it was better to take a step back and let Garp and Sengoku settle it.
At the same time, he shot a not-so-subtle look toward Garp and Zephyr.
Garp grinned. "Bro, your eye signals are awful."
"Did you accidentally step into Crocodile or something??"
"....!" Klein glared at him.
You dumbass little bro—itching for a beating??
Do I need to treat your skull with a good ol' "Fist of Love"?!