Chapter 100: Maybe There Really Is Some Justice in Me?
Marineford Residential District. As a Vice Admiral, Ortoren naturally had his own courtyard here.
Previously, though, his residence hadn’t been strictly by the book—it was Garp who had pulled strings to get it approved, right next to his own courtyard, making them neighbors. The issue was that this area was designated for Vice Admirals, while Ortoren had not yet been one.
But since it had been under renovation the whole time, Ortoren never stayed there. He’d gone off to the South Blue, and only now, upon returning, was everything officially in order. It felt comfortable at last.
Standing at his doorstep, Ortoren hesitated, glancing toward Garp’s courtyard. Maybe he should just crash at Garp’s place instead?
Not because he disliked living alone, but because Portgas D. Rouge—who had come back from the South Blue with them—was currently staying at his house.
“Why aren’t you coming in?”
As Ortoren lingered, Rouge suddenly appeared at the door, her expression calm as she looked at him.
Caught, Ortoren had no choice but to steel himself and step inside, forcing a smile. “Just wondering if I forgot anything today...”
Rouge walked beside him quietly as they entered. She only nodded at his words, saying nothing.
They walked a few steps in silence, the air so heavy that even Ortoren began to feel restless.
Then Rouge spoke. “I never properly thanked you—for what you did with Roger... and for helping me, and the child.”
As she said this, her composed face finally cracked, a faint blush of embarrassment showing through.
She and Roger had never officially married, yet in the South Blue she had registered as married with Ortoren. How could she not feel awkward?
Ortoren rubbed his nose, just as uncomfortable. “Think nothing of it. Roger and I were never close—if anything, we were more like enemies. This was all for the sake of justice... and really, out of respect for Garp.”
Hearing that, Rouge’s embarrassment seemed to fade. She nodded softly. “It seems we may be living together for quite some time. I’ll be in your care.”
“Ah... yeah...” Ortoren mumbled, then added, “Honestly, as long as you don’t go out, there’s no need to put up an act. My friends at headquarters are always busy—they rarely visit. Just hold on for a year or two. Like Garp-san said, once the attention dies down, everything will be easier.”
“I understand.” Rouge nodded gently, then said, “During this time, I’ll take care of the household. Don’t worry, I won’t be a burden.”
“Then I’ll leave it to you,” Ortoren replied.
And so, they spent a quiet evening at home. The next morning, Ortoren packed his luggage while Rouge prepared breakfast, carrying herself like a true wife.
When Ortoren came out with his suitcase, Rouge said, “Why not eat before you go?”
Since she’d gone through the effort, Ortoren couldn’t refuse. He nodded. “I’m heading out on a field mission today. But that’s fine—yesterday I heard some of my friends will be returning from their assignments soon. With their personalities, once they find out I’m ‘married,’ they’ll definitely make a scene. Better that I slip out now and let the fuss blow over...”
Fortunately, when Ortoren had first returned, guys like Momonga and Tokikake hadn’t been around. Otherwise, the news of his marriage would’ve led to them tormenting him mercilessly. No matter how much he claimed his friends were too busy, this was the kind of thing they’d never let slide.
But Ortoren had no desire to endure that. Better to run now—once the excitement passed, they’d lose interest.
After breakfast, Ortoren left without looking back, heading straight for Marineford’s military port and boarding his warship.
This time to Ohara in the West Blue, Gion wouldn’t be accompanying them—their joint mission had ended. At Ohara, however, they were set to rendezvous with Borsalino, who had reportedly gone ahead. The island had already been under strict blockade for some time, ever since Ortoren submitted his report to Admiral Sengoku. From then on, the Marines, together with the CP agency, had completely sealed off the surrounding waters—entry permitted, but no one allowed out.
The warship slowly departed Marine Headquarters. Standing on deck, Ortoren looked back at Marineford’s Fortress of Justice and sighed. “Seems I won’t be spending New Year’s here this time...”
Beside him, Issho, clad in a Marine justice cloak with Captain’s insignia on his shoulders, asked, “Is there anything difficult about this mission? What do you need me to do?”
It was his first time serving as a Marine, and the experience was still fresh. This Issho wasn’t the man from twenty years later—he was just in his early thirties, not yet so burdened by the world’s darkness that he chose to “close his eyes.”
“Nothing too troublesome. We probably won’t even need force. Just treat it like a vacation,” Ortoren replied after some thought.
“That easy?” Issho raised a brow, then asked, “And the field assignment allowance you mentioned before—still valid?”
“Of course,” Ortoren answered without hesitation.
Only then did Issho relax. It wasn’t that he was greedy—he truly didn’t care much about money. What mattered to him was repaying Ortoren as quickly as possible.
That was his sense of honor.
For him now, joining the Marines was simply a new experience, another way of living. Work was work—what difference did it make where? Did anyone really think he had embraced the Marines’ “justice”? At this point, Issho had no such convictions.
Once he repaid his debt to Ortoren, if Marine life proved tolerable, he’d stay. If it didn’t feel like home, once the debt was cleared, he owed nothing more and could retire without hesitation.
Ortoren had made all this clear from the start. If Issho chose to leave, he’d let him go without issue.
Ohara wasn’t some remote island. It was the scholars’ sanctuary, the cultural world’s beacon. It lay in the West Blue, near the Red Line and not far from Mary Geoise.
From Marine Headquarters, it was only a short trip—sail to the Red Line, cross into the West Blue, two more days at sea, and you’d reach Ohara.
That close. Practically under the World Government’s nose. And yet, they had dared to conduct forbidden research.
Truly hardheaded.
Two days later, Ortoren stood on deck as the outline of the island came into view. The first thing he saw was Ohara’s famed Tree of Knowledge rising above the horizon.
At his side stood Nico Olvia. The closer they drew, the more conflicted her expression became. She didn’t know what she was anymore. Was she a daughter of Ohara—or its sinner?
“Professor Clover and the others will understand you,” Ortoren said suddenly. “I’ve fulfilled nearly everything I promised you and Ohara. Now it’s your turn—to convince Professor Clover not to resist. Preserve what’s useful. Go to Punk Hazard and wait for the future. That’s the right choice.”
“Once scholars set foot on Punk Hazard, they’ll never leave. They call it a research base, but it’s a cage. Entering it is the same as surrendering ourselves completely to the World Government. If that happens, does Ohara really still have a future?” Olvia asked, her eyes filled with pain.
She knew this was the most rational solution, yet it tore at her heart.
“There will be a future,” Ortoren answered softly, but firmly. “I know I’m no champion of justice. But I do know right from wrong. This world has strayed too far down the wrong path. Still—I believe. Sooner or later, we’ll change this damn world.”
He admitted to himself that part of saying this in front of Olvia was performance. Yet there was truth in it too—especially the part about changing the world.
The old Ortoren had sought to change the world out of self-interest, out of ambition, seeking to stand above it.
But now—after meeting Bartholomew Kuma and Ginny in the South Blue—though their encounters had been brief and not pleasant, he had realized something. Deep down, he did have a sliver of genuine justice and kindness.
At least sometimes, he wanted to change the world for people like Kuma and Ginny.
The thought stirred him. Experiences, the environment one lived in—they truly shaped a person.
Once, he never would have thought this way.
Was this... some kind of growth since arriving in this world?
Author's Note
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.