One Piece : Admiral Falcon is Pissed off again today!

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder if these big guys pump all their nutrients into their bodies and leave nothing to nourish their brains," Michael sighed.

"Do they not know the term 'dumb oaf'?"

"Uh, instead of complaining, couldn't you just fish him out first?" Stella pointed at the still-soaked dumb oaf in the water.

"And wouldn't it be better to say that to his face?"

"Better? Better how? It's just a little harmless gossip behind his back." Michael stretched his wings and flew over the water, hauling the dumb oaf up by the collar.

"If it were to say it to his face, I'd definitely praise him—tell him how tall, strong, and spirited he looks, and ask if he'd like to join the Marines for some training."

With that, he dumped the oaf onto the deck and flipped him over.

But when he saw the face, Michael froze.

Something about it... felt oddly familiar.

"Michael, I think we might be the ones at fault here," Stella said, pointing to the other side of the ship.

"Look—that little boat is completely wrecked."

"Ugh, even though it's Vegapunk's made ship, it's still a prototype... This autopilot system is seriously flawed." Michael followed Stella's pointing finger, his face showing a hint of helplessness.

"Wait, you call this a small boat?"

"For someone over eight meters tall, it is indeed a small boat."

What the Seraphim Ship had rammed into was unmistakably a medium-sized sailboat, only about one-fifth smaller than the Merry.

This spoke volumes about the Seraphim Ship's speed and durability.

"Tch, no need to think about it. We'll have to prepare to pay compensation once they wake up." Michael shrugged, then suddenly realized something was off.

"Wait, this route was specially cleared by Marine HQ—a designated marine-only passage. How did a civilian ship get in here?"

Michael carefully examined the wreckage floating on the sea before darkly pointing at a tattered black flag among the debris...

"Though the artwork is... questionable, I'm certain that's a skull."

"A skull..." Stella looked over in surprise. "So, he is a pirate?"

"Or just some dumbass who thinks he's a pirate."

Michael curled his lip and suddenly slapped the giant's chest with his palm.

With that motion, a wisp of Holy Light quietly flowed into the other's body.

Almost instantly, the man's eyes snapped open.

"Whew! fuck! Thought I was gonna be sleeping in the ocean again!"

But the voice that came out left Michael and Stella stunned.

An eight-meter-tall, razor-toothed behemoth was speaking in what sounded unmistakably like a young boy's voice.

The contrast was just too much.

"Hey, who are you? What are you doing on a marine-only route... and on a sailboat flying a pirate flag?"

"Huh? That's not a pirate flag?" The giant blinked, and Michael could actually see an air of innocence in his eyes.

"That's a marine flag!"

"How the hell is that a marine flag!? How bad is your drawing!? And since when do marine flags use black banners!?"

"Eh!? There's a rule like that!?"

Michael and the giant stared at each other, while Stella sighed.

The giant's childish behavior was one thing, but in a way, Michael wasn't much better.

"Alright, can you tell me your name, identity, and age?"

"I know this! Standard marine questioning!" The giant showed no resistance, instead eagerly sitting down like an obedient child—his fearsome appearance at odds with his demeanor.

"My name's Jack! I'm from Fish-Man Island, a giant grouper fish-man! I'm ten years old!"

"What the fuck—!? How old!? Ten!?" Michael forced the words through gritted teeth.

"This guy's ten!?"

Only after his outburst did Michael's rationality return.

Wait, Jack? giant grouper fish-man?

Wasn't this the infamous "Ship-Crasher," the nearly undefeated (in the worst way) Calamity Jack of the Beasts Pirates?

This kid was only ten!?

He is as old as Marigold!

Michael rubbed his temples.

It was all because Jack appearance was too fierce, making people overlook that he was actually one of the most promising young talents in the world.

It's just that his brain isn't quite up to par... meaning he is a dumbass.

Well, signs of that were already showing.

"You're a fish-man from Fish-Man Island?" Stella was shocked because, apart from his sharp teeth, Jack didn't have obvious fish-man traits.

"Wait, if you're a fish-man, why did you faint in the water earlier?"

"Uh, I think I got knocked out..." Even while sitting, Jack had to lower his head to look at Stella.

"Even if I hadn't fainted, I wouldn't have been able to move because I'm a Devil Fruit User—the Elephant-Elephant Fruit, Ancient Zoan Type: Mammoth."

This immediately hit the limits of Stella's knowledge.

She turned to Michael with a questioning look.

"After gaining the power of a Devil Fruit, fish-men lose their ability to move in water, but due to their physiology, they can still breath and wont drown." Michael explained.

Listening to Michael's words, Jack nodded repeatedly in agreement.

As for Jack's identity, Michael was now certain.

It was that idiot... Jack the Drought.

But shouldn't he be idolizing the Beasts Pirates? Why is he admiring the Marines now?

"Even though we know your identity and age, you still need to explain why you appeared on a Marine-exclusive waterway..."

"I... I want to follow in Vice Admiral Michael's footsteps! To become a true Marine!" As he spoke, his overly innocent eyes suddenly lit up.

"Wait, those pure white, enormous Wings and platinum-blonde hair... You're Vice Admiral Michael?!"

Before Michael could nod, two arms thicker than pillars suddenly wrapped around him.

"MY IDOL! I WANT TO BE A MARINE!"

His face pressed close, tears and snot streaming down, making his already terrifying face even more horrifying.

"Stop, stop, stop! You can become a Marine, but could you let go first... Your snot is about to get on me!"

Michael couldn't take it anymore.

Seeing that Jack wasn't listening at all, he had to rely on his superior strength to pry Jack's arms open.

Then, with an uppercut, peace finally returned to his ears.

"Uh, Michael, isn't it a bit much to punch a ten-year-old kid like that?"

"A bit much?" Michael twitched his lips. "I only used half my strength with that punch, and it barely knocked this kid out!"

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