At The Peak of One Piece

Upon boarding the ship, Victor noticed a blond man directing the departure procedures. 

He appeared young, around Gion's age, standing roughly 1.9 meters(6.2f) tall with an air of calm authority. His commands were precise, exuding natural leadership. 

Victor had seen him during morning drills—always completing tasks effortlessly, never drawing attention to himself. Previously unremarkable, the man now revealed himself as someone who moved silently but struck decisively. If this practical assessment succeeded, his name would surely spread. 

"Wendy, who's that blond guy playing commander?" Victor tilted his chin toward the man. 

"That's Barnett," Wendy whispered. "Top three in every subject, a Devil Fruit user, highly efficient—he organizes everything flawlessly. He's their class leader." 

"Oh? Interesting." Victor smiled faintly. 

The man intrigued him. Another talent worth observing—perhaps even recruiting. With most of Victor's time devoted to training, his crew needed someone like this: a steward, a coordinator. This mission would test Barnett's mettle. 

Victor fell silent, settling cross-legged in a corner of the deck as the ship prepared to depart. Rebecca and Wendy went to check their assigned quarters. 

Gion, nominally the mission captain but really just a guard, left the ship's operations to others. She wandered over to Victor, leaning against the railing with her chin propped on her hand, gaze distant. 

--- 

"Barnett, the kitchen's low on supplies—maybe one day's worth. If Victor eats freely, it'll last one meal. What do we do?" The speaker was Abel, assigned to the kitchen team. His cooking skills were second only to Victor's in the recruit camp. 

Barnett glanced at Victor on the deck. He was no fool—ordering Victor to cook wasn't an option. His solution? Leave Victor's trio to their own devices. With so many hands aboard, others could handle the work. Victor's role was clear: their strongest combatant, their safeguard. 

"Abel, you know the best anglers in our unit, right? The ship should have fishing gear. Gather them—we need food. This voyage could take half a month. Scout nearby islands for supplies along the way." 

Abel grinned. "Yeah, thanks to Victor's cooking, we all got picky. I used to go fishing with the experts just to eat well. I'll round them up!" 

As Abel left, Barnett called out, "Angelina! Over here." 

A sharp-eyed female soldier approached. Her crisp uniform and scholarly demeanor marked her as more than a mere recruit. 

"Angelina, our provisions are thin. Chart islands near our route—we'll need to resupply. Coordinate with Phoebe from navigation, then brief your team. We'll meet on deck soon." 

Next, Barnett turned to a bespectacled woman nearby. "Jessica, notify the team leaders—kitchen, navigation, logistics, procurement, medical, snipers, armory, engineering—fifteen minutes for a briefing on deck." 

With preparations underway, Barnett approached Victor. He saluted Gion (who remained lost in thought) before sitting beside Victor. 

"Victor, I'm Barnett. Earlier, the crew suggested you as captain, but we know training consumes you. With Rear Admiral Gion as our nominal leader, we've forgone a captaincy. Instead, they've entrusted me as coordinator—to ensure everyone returns safely." 

He met Victor's gaze. "You're our strongest fighter. While I can't make you captain, I ask you to lead our combat team." 

Victor opened his eyes. "Fine. Two conditions: I only handle combat. No other demands. And we four provide our own food." 

Victor knew some involvement was unavoidable—living on the same ship meant shared responsibilities. Combat wouldn't be constant, leaving him time to train. 

"Of course. Routine situations won't require your intervention," Barnett assured. "Only step in if others are outmatched. The combat team also handles hunting—primarily during shore leave. Acceptable?" 

Barnett's plan merged hunting and combat units—more personnel for similar objectives. After all, combat was combat, regardless of the target. 

"Fine. But my personal kills stay mine," Victor countered. "Though if I'm in good spirits, I might contribute some game. Also—assign me a deputy. I won't micromanage individuals." 

He left room for flexibility, establishing only basic terms. 

Barnett nodded. "Understood. We'll hold a briefing on deck—team introductions and sector assignments." 

Victor's gaze drifted to Gion, still motionless by the railing. His Observation Haki detected her distraction—her low spirits palpable despite the ocean vista. 

"Rear Admiral Gion," Victor called abruptly. "Enjoying the view? How about a midair spar?" 

The words snapped her from reverie. "What?" 

"Meet Barnett—our appointed coordinator. Any issues go through him." Victor repeated his challenge. "I asked if you'd care for an aerial duel." 

Barnett stood at attention. "Rear Admiral, Recruit Barnett at your service. Jessica assists me as well." 

Gion acknowledged him with a nod before smirking at Victor. "Last time I proposed sparring, you resisted like a mule. What's your scheme?" 

Barnett's eyebrows rose—their rapport exceeded mere acquaintance. 

Victor feigned innocence. "No schemes. Just shipboard boredom. Bullying you amuses me—so, yes or no?" 

His true motives ran deeper: 

1) Diverting Gion's melancholy. 

2) Normalizing his full-body Armament Haki displays. 

Other opponents wouldn't justify such exertion. Gion, ever the unwitting accomplice, was perfect. 

"Now. Immediately," she demanded, already reaching for her sword. 

Victor sighed. "Patience. The recruit briefing comes first." 

Barnett marveled silently. Victor conversed with a Rear Admiral as an equal—effortlessly, irreverently. 

---

If you can, support me on pa treon:

Pa treon. com/ RightTranslations (No spaces)

Up to 50 chapters ahead.

You can also support by leaving a review