In the Navy, high-ranking officers each have their own ships.

  These ships, depending on the officer, e in different styles.

  Take this one, for instance. From the outside, it seemed like an ordinary warship, but ihe captain’s quarters, luxury was on full dispy.

  The walls and ceiling were paneled with fine wood, aiful paintings from famous artists decorated the walls. Surrounding the room were exquisite por ors. In the ter, there was a massive leather sofa that looked more like a bed, with vish colors and delicate materials that oozed opulence.

  At first g didn’t feel like the room of a military vessel; it looked more like a private mansion.

  On the sofa, a golden-haired female officer lounged zily, her Justice Cloak casually draped over one side.

  A Navy soldier stood in front of her, rep.

  "Rear Admiral Zéon, the suspicious structure has beeroyed!"

  "The ype of shell has met the expected power levels!"

  "They’re asking if they end the mission aurn to base as soon as possible?"

  Zéoed her in her hand, not responding right away. It wasn’t clear if she was even listening.

  Ohe soldier finished his report, he didn’t dare to interrupt, standing at attention and waiting silently.

  After a long pause, Zéon finally lifted her gss.

  "Tell those old men that Navy-developed shells shouldn’t only sider power."

  "Safety, storability, and even ease of transport—all of these o be taken into at!"

  "This mission was a field test, not just shooting off a few dummy rounds. Tell them they leave whehey want, but I won’t sign off on the report until those shells have been battle-tested!"

  The young soldier gulped and bowed. "Uood! I’ll take my leave now!"

  He turo go, but was stopped by Zéon.

  "Hey!" she called out.

  The soldier froze, quickly spinning around. "Rear Admiral Zéon, do you have more orders?"

  Zéon flicked her thumb, sending a gold flying into the soldier’s hand with a soft *k*.

  "Good work. Here’s a little something for you."

  The soldier caught the , his eyes wide with excitement. It was worth two months' pay...

  With a beaming smile, he straightened up, giving a quick salute. "Yes, thank you! Rear Admiral Zéon!!"

  Zéon waved him off, and the soldier quickly exited.

  Before leaving, he g a strange figure standing in the er of the room.

  The person was tall and thin, draped in a cloak with exaggerated face paint and a long sword at his side. Through the window, he was watg the results of the artillery test.

  After the soldier had gohe strange figure stepped forward, waddling with an exaggerated gait before plopping down on the sofa opposite Zéon.

  "Just as expected from the pride of the North Sea—Rear Admiral Zéon. I heard you’ve only been with the G2 branch for six months, but you’ve already earhe respect of your subordinates!"

  "Someone like you is exactly the kind of person we need for a partnership!!"

  The figure spoke with a fmboyaure, his words full of exaggerated praise, though his tone was respectful when addressing Zéon.

  "A partnership?" Zéon straightened in her seat.

  "Isn’t it a bit early to talk about that? I haven’t agreed to anythi."

  "From where we stand right now, it wouldn’t be surprising if I threw a shell onto your ship at any moment."

  "Don’t you agree, Diamante?"

  The strange figure was her than Diamante, a high-ranking member of the Donquixote family, amed "Block."

  Diamante bliaken aback by Zéon’s calm yet pierg gaze. Despite her zy demeanor, it felt as if a predator was watg him, ready to pou any moment.

  He chuckled nervously. "Rear Admiral Zéon, you certainly know how to joke!!"

  "Whether we’re allies or enemies, we’ll have to wait until you meet the young master to find out. But for now, at least we’re not enemies!!"

  Zéon gazed at Diamante for a moment befiving a small, knowing smile and rexing bato the sofa.

  "You have a point... Anyway, I’m quite curious about Donquixote Dofmingo’s iions."

  "I’ve heard you’ve been developing your influen the North Sea, a here you are, voluntarily abandoning everything to e to the Grand Line."

  When Dofmingo was mentioned, Diamante immediately stiffened.

  "Hahahaha, two years ago, the young master personally went te town to withat gra. How could the mere North Sea tain his ambition!"

  "However, with your assistance, we quickly establish our power here in the Grand Line!"

  Zéon’s expression remained a smile, but there was an edge to it. "I’m in the Navy. Why would I help pirates?"

  "Don’t be so heartless, Lord Zéon!" Diamante leaned forward, his smile growing more meaningful. "Our previous colboration was quite pleasant, wasn’t it?"

  Zéon’s eyes narrowed slightly, theuro smile at him.

  "I recall warning Dofmingo not to ever bring this up again."

  The cloak behind Diamante fluttered gently.

  "Lord Zéon, you should uand. If it weren't for our cooperation back then, you wouldn’t be..."

  Before he could finish his sentence, Zéon’s left hand transformed into a sharp spike and shot toward Diamante’s neck.

  Diamante quickly swung his cloak to shield himself. His ability, the "Fp-Fp Fruit," allowed him to transform anything into soft, fabric-like material.

  Although the cloak appeared light and flowing, it was actually made of steel and could transform into a shield at any moment.

  What Diamante didn’t expect was that the spike went straight through the shield and pressed against his throat. Even through the metal, he could feel the chill from the tip.

  The spike slowly extended, seeming to pierto the shield, and Diamante could even feel a slight warmth from it.

  A shiver ran down his spine as his throat tightened, atered, "Haki…?"

  Zéon didn’t answer, her expression calm.

  "Since arriving in the Grand Line, I haven’t been idle..."

  "This is the st time I’ll warn you. If y this up again, I’ll put a hole in your throat."

  Diamante quickly relented, retrag his power and allowing his shield to return to its soft, fabric-like form.

  "Apologies, Lord Zéon. I didn’t mean to overstep... I wasn’t trying to pressure you."

  Zéourned her hand to normal, the spike disappearing, and she once again leaned zily into the sofa.

  "Just teasing you. o get so worked up... I believe your young master wouldn’t make such a foolish move!"

  "You’re not angry, are you?" she added with a pyful smirk.

  "No, no, not at all..." Diamaouched the small wound on his neck, repeatedly denying it.

  Inwardly, however, he cursed, *"That damn woman... just like before!"*

  "Anyway, we know each other well, which is why the young master sought you out."

  Zéon didn’t deny this.

  The people who know you best are often your enemies, especially those you ’t defeat no matter what tricks you use.

  Ba the North Sea, her she nor Dofmingo could gain the upper hand. Dofmingo, seeking to expand his influend rid himself of a troublesome rival, had offered to colborate with Zéon. Together, they eliminated dozens of underworld anizations.

  With that aplishment, Zéon romoted to junior admiral and transferred to the Navy headquarters. A few years ter, she rose rapidly to bee a rear admiral, taking the position of deputy base a the G2 branch.

  Meanwhile, Dofmingo, having removed his biggest enemy and several petitors, easily uhe underground world of the North Sea.

  On the surface, it seemed like a win-win situation.

  But Zéon always had a nagging feeling that she had been used…

  She never expected to meet Dofmingo agai, here he was, on the Grand Line, seeking her out for another colboration.

  What a fusing guy...

  'This guy… he’s insane...'

  Both Zéon and Diamahought the same thing.

  .....

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