One Piece: Please Call Me Godfather!

Circling the world once, together with the Red Line in the same place, dividing the entire world into four parts of the sea, with the Grand Line being the first half, people are referred to as local musicians.

The world's strongest army, the ruler of the seas, the Marine Headquarters, Marineford, is located in this sea region.

At Marineford's Admiral's office, Admiral Sengoku the Buddha frowned,

"What exactly happened on the East Blue side? Even a criminal's identity can be mistaken? And to be played around by a pirate like this, how disgraceful!"

The recent communication from Loguetown informed the headquarters that the man who died earlier, the one called Kuro, was a fake; the real Kuro was now finally caught in a trap.

"We should consider ourselves lucky,"

The Chief of Staff, Vice Admiral Tsuru, said, "It's fortunate that Francklin caught Kuro; if he had appeared in other places on the sea, the Marine face would have been completely lost."

"True,"

Sengoku nodded. "Then this matter must not be leaked. Even though Morgan was rewarded, it can't be taken back. In this case, let's give Francklin an internal commendation and have him secretly eliminate Kuro. Don't let the news out. This guy has been in charge of Loguetown for years and finally did something."

"Understood."

At the Marine base in Loguetown.

"An internal commendation?"

Francklin hung up the phone, feeling a bit happy.

Although his achievements couldn't be publicly acknowledged this time, an internal commendation was enough. At least he had made a good impression in front of Admiral Sengoku.

If he could accumulate a bit more merit—

Just as Francklin was imagining this, his office door was knocked. His subordinate entered.

This subordinate had a somewhat complicated expression. "Colonel, Reinhardt is here."

"What?"

Francklin tensed up.

All the good mood he had just felt disappeared in an instant.

His feelings were now very complex.

On one hand, Reinhardt's hatred and resentment had never diminished.

But on the other hand, even though he was unwilling to admit it, in his heart, there was a corner that was also looking forward to his arrival.

After hesitating for a long time, Francklin finally said, "Let him come in."

"…"

The subordinate was momentarily stunned, then nodded. "Understood."

Reinhardt stood outside the Marine base, with the Marine guards looking as if they were facing a great enemy, sweat dripping down their foreheads.

On the contrary, passing civilians kept bowing their heads in respect and calling him "Godfather," to which he responded with a smile and a slight bow.

After achieving the title of Night King, his reputation in Loguetown had become exaggerated.

Whenever a problem arose, many people were even unwilling to seek help from the Marine or government institutions, preferring to ask the Ulysses family for assistance.

Bartolomeo, standing behind him, appeared frustrated and dissatisfied. "Godfather, why go to that guy?"

"When the seed has sprouted, it's time to water it," Reinhardt smiled.

He didn't make him wait too long. The Marine soldier who had gone to announce returned, respectfully saying to Reinhardt, "Godfather—Mr. Reinhardt, the Colonel asks you to come in."

"Thank you, my friend," Reinhardt smiled and thanked him, causing the Marine to flush with excitement in an instant.

The Marine base in Loguetown occupied more land than the Ulysses family's estate, after all, this was a garrison base. Besides stopping here, it also bore the responsibility of training.

Reinhardt made his way through the base, and when he reached the area outside Francklin's office, the subordinate guarding the door looked at Reinhardt with a highly cautious expression.

"You're not allowed inside."

The subordinate didn't even look at Reinhardt, instead, he was glaring at Bartolomeo.

"Heh, you—" Bartolomeo said angrily.

"Quiet, Barto,"

Reinhardt waved his hand. "You wait for me outside."

"Alright," Bartolomeo nodded indifferently.

Reinhardt smiled at the subordinate, then opened the door and walked in.

Francklin was sitting at his desk, smoking. The office had no windows open and no lights on, leaving it shrouded in haze and mist.

"Well, my friend, how is it?"

Reinhardt walked forward, the mist unable to approach him. The lights automatically turned on, and the chair in the corner flew to rest in front of Francklin's desk. Reinhardt sat down perfectly.

"How was the sweet pastry from earlier?"

Francklin remained silent for a moment before speaking. "Reinhardt, are you trying to pull me in?"

Having spent decades navigating the Navy, Francklin was certainly no fool. The Ulysses family's style of doing things was very clear to him.

Reinhardt's intentions were no longer ambiguous.

"Don't use words like 'effect' and 'benefit'; this is insulting my friendship," Reinhardt said with a smile. "I told you, I came to befriend you."

"Ah, friends," Francklin mocked with a laugh. "I have no interest in befriending you. Get out of here, Reinhardt."

"Seeing as you haven't broken any laws or disrupted the order, I'll spare your life without reporting it to the headquarters. You should hurry and leave before I show mercy. Get out and back to the vast sea!"

This was Francklin's decision.

As long as Ulysses left Loguetown, all future concerns would be resolved.

But how could he be so fortunate?

Reinhardt smiled. "Why resist so, my friend? No one can walk through life without the support of friends."

"Support? You mean supporting each other on the road to hell?"

Francklin snorted in disdain.

"Perhaps it's the road to Heaven."

Reinhardt's expression remained unchanged. "The sweet pastry is over, but haven't you tried the vegetables yet?"

Francklin fell silent.

"After decades of hard work, my friend, are you really willing to retire with just a Colonel's rank? Trust me, by this time next year, you should be at the headquarters," Reinhardt said warmly. "As a Marine officer, you have the talent for this."

Reinhardt's words were like bullets, piercing through Francklin's heart.

A general?

A Marine general!

It felt like some invisible voice inside him was screaming, and Francklin couldn't stay calm any longer.

"Why should I trust you?" Francklin's voice was dry and hoarse.

He was so desperate to climb higher.

"Don't rush. Let's first try the vegetables. How does it taste? My friend, don't worry, if after tasting the vegetables you feel the flavor isn't right, it won't be too late to leave the table."

...

As Reinhardt left Francklin's office, Bartolomeo and Francklin's subordinate were exchanging glances.

"Let's go, Barto."

After hearing Reinhardt's words, Bartolomeo snorted and turned to leave.

Looking at the two of them walking away, the subordinate clenched his fists.

What was happening?

What exactly was going on?

Colonel, what are you really thinking?

Could it be—

No, I must do something!