The question came without warning—straight and heavy, like a clean right hook.
Gern opened his mouth, then realized he didn't have a prepared answer.
Back in the West Blue, justice had been simple.
Kill all the pirates—that was everyone's justice.
But after arriving at Headquarters, especially after witnessing an existence like Whitebeard, he had begun to understand that the world was far more complicated than that.
With the memories of two lifetimes weighing on him, Gern knew that now was not the time for grandstanding or clever rhetoric.
This was the moment to face himself.
After a brief hesitation, he chose honesty.
"…I don't know."
Once again, Gern gambled—and won.
Zephyr raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. He hadn't expected a sixteen-year-old who dared to clash head-on with Whitebeard to openly admit confusion.
After all, having taught at the Marine Academy for years, Zephyr knew how these young soldiers were—each one brimming with pride and certainty.
"Interesting," Zephyr said at last, taking his seat. He gestured for Gern to sit as well.
"Most people your age can't wait to proclaim their version of justice."
Gern sat upright in the guest chair, back straight.
"In the West Blue, I thought justice meant eradicating all pirates. But now…"
"Now you've seen a broader world," Zephyr finished for him.
"And you've seen the limits of your own strength."
Silence filled the office for a moment. Outside, seagulls cried as a distant warship sounded its departure horn.
Seeing Gern remain quiet, Zephyr abruptly changed the subject.
"Do you think being able to fight Whitebeard makes you strong?"
Gern caught the test hidden in the question.
It was a trap—one meant to scold his recklessness.
So he answered honestly again.
"It makes me strong," Gern said calmly.
"And it also makes me foolish."
Zephyr leaned forward slightly.
"Explain."
"The Tremor Logia gave me the qualifications to challenge monsters," Gern said, his tone steady, almost clinical.
"But a Devil Fruit isn't everything."
"When Whitebeard defeated me with Haki, I didn't even have time to react. If he had intended to kill me, I'd have died the instant I attacked him."
A flicker of surprise crossed Zephyr's eyes.
He had expected to spend considerable effort hammering this realization into the young man. Instead, Gern was already painfully aware of it.
That level of self-reflection was rare.
If it had been Sakazuki, Borsalino, or Kuzan sitting here, Zephyr knew exactly how the answers would have gone:
"Even if it costs my life, leaving Whitebeard with a scar is worth it. Without that resolve, how can we protect the world?"
"Oh my~ Whitebeard? Scary, scary… but hey, I got lucky, didn't I?"
"Whitebeard is strong, but battles aren't decided by individual strength alone."
"Rare," Zephyr said simply.
"Most people who gain powerful Devil Fruits grow dependent on them and neglect their foundations."
"I won't," Gern replied immediately.
Zephyr noticed the subtle tightening of Gern's fingers.
So he admits the weakness… but still trusts his fruit.
"Really?" Zephyr asked.
He stood, walked around the desk, and stopped directly in front of Gern.
"Stand up."
Gern rose instantly.
Up close, the pressure radiating from Zephyr was unmistakable.
"Attack me," Zephyr ordered.
"No Devil Fruit."
Gern hesitated.
"Here?"
"Now."
Without warning, Gern threw a right punch—no flourish, just pure speed and strength, aimed straight at Zephyr's face.
"Too slow."
Zephyr didn't even move his feet. A slight tilt of his head avoided the blow, and his left hand snapped shut around Gern's wrist like a steel clamp.
"Again."
Gern followed with his left fist and a knee strike.
Zephyr released him, stepped back half a pace, and evaded effortlessly. Still, he took note.
Strong. Not giant-level, but far from weak.
"Plenty of power," Zephyr said.
"Not enough technique."
For the next thirty seconds, Gern attacked from every angle he could think of.
He never once touched Zephyr's coat.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His breathing grew rough.
"That's enough."
Zephyr placed a palm on Gern's chest and pushed him back into the chair.
"See? Without your Devil Fruit, you wouldn't survive against even an average pirate in the New World."
Gern clenched his fists, chest heaving—not from exhaustion, but frustration.
Zephyr was right.
He had become reliant on the Tremor Fruit.
Even against Whitebeard, his instinct had been to maximize his fruit's output, not refine his fundamentals.
But it's hard not to, Gern thought bitterly.
The Tremor Logia is just too powerful.
He genuinely believed it might be the strongest Logia in existence.
But if he wanted Haki…
"I understand," Gern said suddenly.
He inhaled deeply, stood, and bowed sharply at the waist.
"Please train me, Vice Admiral Zephyr."
Zephyr didn't answer immediately. He returned to his seat, his expression softer now.
"Why did you join the Marines?"
The sudden shift caught Gern off guard.
After a moment's thought, he answered truthfully.
"To become stronger," he said.
"And to find an answer."
"What answer?"
"My justice."
The moment those words left Gern's mouth, Zephyr felt something stir.
This boy's resolve—his self-awareness—was far beyond his years.
Zephyr studied him in silence, then nodded.
"At least you're honest," he said.
"Unlike some who preach justice while hiding rot in their hearts."
He opened a drawer, pulled out a file, and slid it across the desk.
"Starting tomorrow, you'll serve as my adjutant and accompany me on missions."
"And I will personally train you—to become an admiral."
Gern accepted the file. The Marine Headquarters seal was already stamped.
This wasn't an offer.
It was an order.
"Yes, Vice Admiral Zephyr."
Zephyr stood, signaling the end of the meeting.
"Remember this, Ensign Gern," he said, tapping his chest.
"Devil Fruits are tools. True strength comes from here."
Then he tapped his temple.
Gern nodded solemnly, saluted, and turned to leave.
His hand was on the doorknob when Zephyr spoke again.
"You'll find your answer about justice. But remember—"
Gern turned back.
"Justice is not killing. That is the answer I arrived at."
Gern bowed deeply.
Then he closed the door behind him.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
patreon.com/NightScript