Vice Admiral Tsuru's arrangements were incredibly efficient and thoughtful.
Levi's title of "Special Strategic Advisor" sounded grand but came with no mandatory daily tasks. His rank was set as Captain, attached to an extremely leisurely department under Logistics—the Archival Data Digitization Promotion Office (a retirement department established three years ago, which had only completed 0.3% of its digitization and was almost forgotten by everyone).
His job description theoretically included "supervising the digitization process" and "ensuring information security during the electronic archiving process." In practice, it meant he was supposed to report to a corner of a warehouse filled with old paper archives, where he was the only employee. He often skipped even this step, preferring to return to his dorm to sleep or wait for meals in the mess hall.
He couldn't have been more satisfied with this arrangement. No training, no drills, no facing the stern faces of the admirals, and he didn't even have to interact with many people.
His daily routine quickly became fixed:
Waking up naturally when the sun was high, staying in bed until hunger struck. Calling for food delivery, or, on rare occasions, slowly shuffling to the mess hall. Eating. Returning to his dorm or finding a sunny corner to space out and nap. Eating the next meal. Continuing to space out and nap. Sleeping.
This cycle repeated endlessly. He embodied the Marine life of "eating, loafing, and waiting to die" to the fullest.
After a few days, a rumor about "Vice Admiral Tsuru's Sleeping Beauty" gradually spread through Marineford. It was said that this person was extraordinarily lazy but could inexplicably make others feel drowsy. Most people just took it as a joke, as there were plenty of eccentrics in Marineford.
That afternoon, Levi slowly awoke from a dream about an unlimited grilled meat buffet. The emptiness in his stomach reminded him that nap time was over, and it was time for an early dinner.
"Hmm… I kind of want something sweet…"
He thought vaguely, his lazy mind starting to work. The call bell was right by his hand, but today, he felt a slight dissatisfaction with the slightly melted ice cream the quartermaster had delivered yesterday.
"Desserts… are better fresh…"
This thought, for him, was already extremely "diligent" and "picky." After a brief and intense internal struggle (which consumed most of his energy for the day), he decided to go to the mess hall's dessert section himself.
Of course, this "himself" meant he spent a full twenty minutes wriggling out of bed, another ten minutes slowly putting on his jacket (too lazy to button it), and then "shuffling" towards the mess hall at a speed of five meters per minute.
Marineford's mess hall was enormous, serving a wide variety of snacks and drinks even during non-meal times. Levi, guided by his instinctive sense of food aromas, ignored all curious or amused gazes and drifted into the dessert section as if sleepwalking.
His gaze instantly locked onto the last item in the refrigerated display—an incredibly tempting, wobbly milk pudding, drizzled with amber caramel. Its smooth surface and springy texture seemed to be calling to him.
At the same time, another hand, wearing a white glove, reached out from the side at a similarly leisurely, languid pace, towards the same pudding. Two hands, almost simultaneously, stopped above the dessert.
Levi slowly, extremely slowly, raised his head to look at the owner of the other hand. The newcomer also, at an almost synchronized slow pace, turned his head to look at him.
He was tall, wearing a yellow-and-white striped suit, with strange sunglasses on his face. His mouth was slightly downturned, carrying a subtle expression of unenthusiasm for everything. Levi felt this person looked familiar, but he was too lazy to think deeply; his brain was only processing one thing—the pudding.
Kizaru (for it was indeed him) looked at the young Marine before him, with his messy hair, hazy eyes, and crooked jacket, and found him a bit interesting. He recognized this new face, the "interesting young man" Tsuru had brought back.
The two looked at each other, and the air itself seemed to become thick and slow.
"Ohh~~~" Kizaru drawled, his voice magnetic yet uniquely languid. "How… scary indeed~~~ Young man, do you like this pudding too?" His tone didn't sound scared at all.
Levi blinked his sleepy eyes, his reaction a beat slow. He felt the aura around this person… was very comfortable, a comfort like that of a kindred spirit—both so slow, so unenthusiastic.
"…So troublesome…" Levi mumbled his catchphrase instinctively, his voice weak. "There's… only one left…"
His gaze flickered between the pudding and Kizaru. His immense inertia made him consider giving up. Contesting food with a stranger—just thinking about it was utterly troublesome.
"…You take it…" He slowly prepared to withdraw his hand. "I'll… wait for the next one…"
Kizaru's eyebrow raised behind his sunglasses. Giving way voluntarily? Not because of fear of his status (this young man didn't seem to recognize him at all), but because… it was too much trouble? This pure, unadulterated laziness gave him an unprecedented… sense of kinship.
"Hmm~~~" Kizaru also let out a long, indistinct sound, withdrew his hand, and stroked the short stubble on his chin. "It seems… I'm not in a hurry either~~~" He was also too lazy to contend with a young man over a piece of pudding, even though he had seen it first.
Thus, a bizarre scene unfolded in the dessert section of the Marineford mess hall: Vice Admiral Kizaru, one of Marineford's top combat forces, and an unknown, lazy captain were politely deferring to each other over the last piece of pudding, their movements and speech so slow it was like watching a video at half speed. The surrounding chefs and a few scattered soldiers watched, dumbfounded.
Ultimately, Kizaru seemed to find the stalemate more troublesome. He waved his hand, "Well~~~ never mind, young people are still growing. You eat it~~~" With that, he yawned, put his hands in his pockets, and with his characteristic, swaying gait, turned and left.
Levi watched Kizaru's retreating figure, his sluggish brain taking some time to process that "the other person gave him the pudding."
"…What a good person…" he murmured, then unceremoniously reached out and carefully took the precious pudding. He was too lazy to find a place to sit, so he leaned against the refrigerated display, picked up a small spoon, and enjoyed his sweet spoils of war, one tiny, focused bite at a time. The smooth, tender pudding melted in his mouth, the slight bitterness and sweetness of the caramel perfectly blended, making him happily squint his eyes.
That little interlude, for him, was merely an insignificant part of acquiring food. He was completely unaware that he had just interacted with a Marine Admiral.
After finishing the pudding, he licked the spoon, still wanting more. "Hmm… next time… I'll try asking the quartermaster to get it for me…" he concluded. "Doing it myself… is still a bit troublesome…"
Satisfied, Captain Levi, moving at a slow-motion pace once again, swayed out of the mess hall, ready to return to his cozy haven to continue digesting and napping.
Meanwhile, Kizaru, holding his coffee, stood by a corridor window, watching the figure below slowly shuffling like a sleepwalker, a playful smile on his lips.
"Fruit of Sloth… is it? (The Devil Fruit name the protagonist reported) What an… interesting ability indeed…"
"Tsuru… brought back quite a remarkable little fellow…" He took a sip of coffee, feeling that the sunlight in Marineford today seemed even more interesting because of this unexpected "laziness."