One Piece: Please Call Me Godfather!

In the afternoon, at Ulysses Manor's study, Reinhardt, taking advantage of a free moment, sipped his black tea while reading through some texts.

The door to the study was knocked.

"Please come in."

Reinhardt set down his black tea, closed the book in his hand, and placed it aside before sitting up straight.

The door was pushed open, and Sidley, the butler, walked in. "Your Excellency, there is a gentleman here to see you."

Reinhardt smiled warmly. "It wouldn't be good to keep our guest waiting. Please, Sidley, invite him in."

The old butler respectfully stepped out, and soon, another person walked into the room.

This man was clearly not a member of the Ulysses family, but he was dressed in the family's formal black Western-style clothing. Reinhardt didn't find this strange; the navy had been keeping an eye on Ulysses Manor for days, and without changing into this outfit, he probably wouldn't have been allowed in.

In contrast to the well-tailored clothes, the man's face was swollen and bruised.

As the man entered the study, he saw Reinhardt lounging in the large chair, basking in the sunlight, his face full of visible scars, which immediately made him appear humble to the naked eye.

He quickly approached Reinhardt, bent down, and said, "Revered Godfather, please accept my deepest sincerity and my unwavering loyalty."

Reinhardt gently waved his hand. As the man bent down, he felt a gentle force, but it was overwhelming, lifting him up effortlessly.

As rumored, this young Godfather was incredibly powerful!

The man's heart trembled.

"So it's Ronald, Mr. Ronald from the Ronald family," Reinhardt said, "No need for formalities. Since you're here, we are friends now, and among friends, there's no need for such manners."

The visitor was none other than Ronald, the leader of the Ronald family, who had been thoroughly beaten by Bartolomeo. After receiving Bartolomeo's message and recovering slightly from his injuries, he hurried to Ulysses Manor to pay his respects to Reinhardt.

"Godfather, do you remember me?"

Ronald was a bit surprised.

Everyone knew that Ulysses' new Godfather Reinhardt had just gone to sea five years ago and had only recently returned, so it was impossible that they had met before.

Reinhardt smiled and said, "Of course, my Godfather often says that friendship is everything. I truly cherish our friendship, Ronald. You do, too, don't you?"

"Of course, of course," Ronald nodded repeatedly.

"If we're friends, then please, have a seat," Reinhardt gestured to the chair next to him, "Let's have a chat."

Ronald quickly sat down but didn't dare to fully settle on the chair. He only sat at a quarter of its edge, keeping his back straight.

Seeing his nervous demeanor, Reinhardt laughed and took a cup of tea from the tray on the table, placing it in front of Ronald. He poured tea into the cup and sincerely said,

"Ronald, I believe in friendship, and I'm not afraid to show it. I hope to receive the same in return, but you need not repay me with respect or distance."

"Come, once you finish this cup of tea, we'll be good friends."

Ronald was taken aback. This young Godfather had a very different way of thinking compared to him.

He was not arrogant or aggressive as Ronald had imagined. Instead, a gentle aura emanated from him, both inside and out.

Ronald took the cup and said solemnly, "Godfather, I will cherish your friendship for my entire life."

Then, he drank it all in one go.

"Very good," Reinhardt smiled and nodded.

The two of them chatted for a while, enjoying the conversation. Only then did Ronald use an excuse to leave.

As soon as he left, Jackson entered Reinhardt's study.

"Is this the sixth one?" Jackson asked.

"Yes, Barto did a wonderful job," Reinhardt lightly nodded, raising his right hand. With a flick, a scroll flew over and unfurled in mid-air.

It was a map of Loguetown, with various roads drawn in fine detail.

At this moment, the map was intentionally divided into sections, with the largest two blocks and several smaller ones, but still quite large compared to the surrounding areas. Each of these large blocks had a triangular mark on them.

A pen flew toward one of the sections without a triangular mark and drew a triangle on it.

From now on, all the larger sections would have triangular marks drawn on them.

Jackson looked at the map and said, "If that's the case, then the central tier of forces has already submitted to us. The remaining smaller forces under Ronald's influence are beginning to shift their loyalty toward us."

"Loguetown is practically already in our pocket," Reinhardt nodded, though his expression didn't show much excitement.

After all, it was just Loguetown. It wasn't anything extraordinary.

"What about the Navy?" Reinhardt asked. "Has our Colonel discovered anything?"

Jackson replied, "Our friends have been very diligent. Barto's actions have been very secretive, but—"

"Ultimately, there was still quite a commotion, wasn't there?" Reinhardt said. "Alright, it's no longer important. Where are the Franklian documents? Bring them here."

Jackson handed over a folder, "Yes, any details our friends know about are in here."

"Good. Now, we should start thinking about how to make friends with our Colonel," Reinhardt said.

Naval Base.

"Those bastards are saying they were drunk and caused a disturbance?"

Francklin said angrily.

"Yes," the deputy officer replied with a bitter smile. "They've settled on that excuse, and we can't do anything about it."

Two days ago, Loguetown started to show signs of trouble.

Some underground factions' headquarters were damaged, and the members kept running toward the hospital.

This was clearly the result of a conflict.

However, when the incident occurred, the Navy had no sense of it.

That alone wouldn't be too bad, but the key point was that when Francklin asked around, he found out that the thugs' drunken brawl had led to the situation.

It was pure nonsense.

Once could be overlooked, but how could so many different factions end up drinking and fighting among themselves without coordination?

Yet, time and time again, Francklin had no way to catch them.

Thugs and pirates were not the same.

Though they broke the law and created disorder, they did so secretly. On the surface, they still followed the laws of the people, and with no concrete evidence, the Navy couldn't be suspicious of them.

"I'm afraid someone is pulling the strings!" the deputy officer said.

Francklin took a deep puff of his cigar. "Hmph, I don't need to guess, I already know who it is. Who else could manipulate our patrol team without a trace, easily injure so many underground forces and yet keep them silent? The only bastard who could do that is the one I'm thinking of. I can't think of anyone else in Loguetown who's more suspicious!"

"That bastard! I won't let him off!!!"

Francklin crushed the cigar into the ashtray and said, "Let's go, to Ulysses Manor."

"Colonel! Colonel!!!"

At that moment, the door to his office was pushed open, and a terrified sailor rushed in.

"Pirates! Pirates are attacking!"