"What happened?" Mike's voice was sharp, a sudden sense of foreboding tightening his chest.
Kizaru's voice on the other end of the Den Den Mushi grew solemn.
"Dragon appeared in Loguetown. He beat up our people."
"..."
A pause.
"Why would he attack our people?" Mike frowned.
Dragon? He knew the revolutionary leader was supposed to be in town to see Luffy off, but that shouldn't have anything to do with him.
He'd only dueled Zoro and hadn't laid a finger on Straw Hat.
How could this possibly concern him?
"The exact reason isn't clear," Kizaru's tone grew more urgent, "but Dragon summoned a storm and tried to destroy my warship."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"That man whose bounty you had me revoke—Kuro—he intercepted the storm. After that... he fell. Severely injured and unconscious."
"!!!"
Mike's heartbeat accelerated violently.
His expression, once relaxed and sleepy, hardened into a mask of disbelief.
"Kuro!" he practically leaped from his chair, biting down so hard on his cigar that it nearly snapped in two.
'Damn it! Kuro got beaten up? Seriously injured?'
His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise grip.
Who cares if Kizaru's ship got a few scratches? So what if Smoker got roughed up a bit?
But Kuro?
He was Mike's personally appointed chief steward, the key to his entire future of leisurely days at Headquarters.
He was the foundation of his comfortable life!
Without Kuro by his side to handle the endless, tedious affairs of a Headquarters Captain, how could he possibly enjoy his carefree life?
How could he slack off during work hours, idly reading the newspaper?
How could he enjoy his evenings, sipping a drink at a quiet bar or basking in the warm, gentle embrace of the neighborhood beauties?
Mike's mind, for the first time in a long while, was flooded with sheer, unadulterated panic.
He pictured a future without Kuro.
He saw himself buried under mountains of military paperwork, stacks of documents piling up on his desk, an endless stream of tasks and responsibilities coming one after another, leaving him no room to breathe.
He saw a life of working late into the night, of scarfing down cold dinners, of no relaxation, no fun, no peace.
"Without Kuro," Mike muttered, his fingers clenching unconsciously.
"I'd be drowning in those documents. The workload would pile up until it crushed me. My life would become... a job."
That comfortable, easy life he'd worked so hard to achieve would be gone, with no one to ease his burdens.
"This... they might as well just kill me now!"
"Need me to step in?" Kizaru's lazy voice came through the Den Den Mushi, snapping Mike out of his nightmarish vision.
"I was just about to head to Loguetown anyway."
Mike took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing himself to calm down.
The panic receded, replaced by something cold, sharp, and utterly furious.
"Old Man" Mike said firmly, his voice now was cold and resolute.
"Stay out of this." He paused, a flash of dangerous determination in his eyes.
"I'll handle it myself."
A blazing fury ignited in his chest.
He had almost lost his most indispensable subordinate.
He had almost lost the peaceful life he had been building.
He had almost been swallowed whole by that endless tide of military duties.
"Dragon," a cold glint flashed in Mike's eyes.
"I won't let this slide."
"I'm heading out now," he said quietly, before decisively hanging up.
As long as Kuro was alive, the Senzu Beans he had could fix him.
First, he need to check on his man.
Then... he'd catch up to Dragon and make him pay.
Mike swiftly donned his suit and draped the "Justice" cloak over his shoulders.
Leaning forward slightly, he leaped from the balcony, his body a blur as he sped toward the docks.
...
"Yo~"
After the call ended, Kizaru's lips curled into an amused smirk.
"The adjutant's pissed, huh? This just got interesting."
He leaned back in his chair, recalling the "Sun Halo Dragon Head Dance" he had witnessed from Mike.
The sheer power of it had left a deep impression on him.
The three Admirals were considered monsters not just for their Devil Fruits, but for their mastery in other areas.
And for Kizaru, that area was swordsmanship.
That slash from Mike had not only dazzled Mihawk, but Kizaru had also grasped some of its essence.
"The stronger my adjutant is, the better," a glint of satisfaction flashed in Kizaru's eyes.
"If he can shoulder more missions for me in the future, of course I'd want to keep a talent like that hidden."
With a slight flick of his wrist, a scorching sword of pure light materialized in his hand, radiating a blinding yellow glow and intense heat.
This was a new technique he'd developed after observing Mike, a high-temperature light blade capable of melting steel.
"The sun and the sparkle, huh?" Kizaru murmured, giving the blade a deft swing.
"I wonder what expressions Sakazuki and Kuzan will make when they see this? Light that can scorch ice and endure magma... Heh!"
He chuckled to himself, picturing his colleagues' stunned faces.
"Though my adjutant has decided to handle things personally..." he mused, a glint of playful mischief in his eyes.
"Dragon is no pushover. I guess I'll go take a look. If my adjutant gets beaten up, I can always make a dashing, heroic entrance!"
In an instant, a streak of yellow light shot into the sky, speeding toward Loguetown like a falling star.
-----------------------------
Read 40 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator