One Piece: I am the Fleet Admiral?

Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari

----------

Time flies!

In the morning, Marine Headquarters at Marineford was bustling with activity once again.

The soldiers were busy preparing to set sail.

Suddenly, a figure draped in the cloak of justice passed by them.

When they recognized who it was, everyone was momentarily stunned. But as they realized, they immediately snapped to attention and greeted loudly, "Fleet Admiral-sama, good morning!"

"Well done, keep at it," Akira replied, continuing to walk, turning his head with a smile and nodding.

It was clear he was in an excellent mood, even his steps seemed lighter.

The soldiers kept saluting until Akira's figure disappeared from view, then they relaxed.

"It's Fleet Admiral-sama! It's been a while since we saw him."

"Yes, I heard that the Fleet Admiral has been training hard for the sake of justice. At first, he was reviewing documents from all over daily. Later, it seems his training reached a critical point, and he didn't even return to his quarters."

"Now that he's appeared, does that mean he's completed his training?"

"It must be! I can feel the Fleet Admiral's strength even from this distance."

In the Fleet Admiral's office.

Akira walked in with large strides.

"Fleet Admiral-sama, welcome back!"

Secretary Rouge immediately stood up, bowing respectfully.

"No need for formalities, I'm sure there are plenty of documents piled up over these days, bring them all."

Akira waved his hand, sat down in his chair, and spoke quickly.

Some time ago, he reached the most critical stage of practicing Haki. If the hard-earned momentum was suddenly interrupted, it would have taken him a lot of time to regain it.

So, he had been absent from work for a while.

But fortunately, there are many departments under his command, along with the staff department, so there wouldn't be any major issues.

If there was something important or a decision that required his attention, the Fleet Admiral could remain silent temporarily.

After all, as long as the world isn't ending tomorrow, there won't be any serious problems.

For a large organization, sometimes a moment of inaction is better than unnecessary movement.

Of course, absenteeism is still bad behavior.

For example, when Rouge ordered the soldiers to stack all the documents to be reviewed on the desk, completely surrounding and burying him in paperwork.

He knew the cost.

"Time to get to work!"

Akira took a deep breath, picked up a pen, and buried himself in reviewing the documents.

In the quiet office, the only sound was the pen rapidly gliding across the papers.

Rouge returned to her seat, resting her chin in her hands, gazing at Akira's profile from the corner of her eye, lost in thought.

Time ticked by, second by second.

The stack of documents on the desk dwindled quickly, shrinking visibly.

Messengers at the gate came and went dozens of times, swiftly taking the revised documents to the staff department.

"Yawn..."

Finally, with the last document in hand, Akira stretched.

"What? Do I have something on my face? You've been staring at me all day, Rouge."

Akira glanced to the side, asking with a chuckle.

Rouge's face flushed as she realized she had been caught.

As an ordinary person, she might think she hid her thoughts well, but she didn't anticipate just how sharp the Fleet Admiral's senses were.

Even without relying on Observation Haki, you can still sense a pair of unwavering eyes focused on you.

"No, no, I just feel like your aura has changed," Rouge muttered, lowering her head, her voice barely audible.

"Oh? What's changed?" Akira asked, still focused on correcting the final document without looking up.

"Hmmm... You've become stronger. I can clearly sense it."

"Is that so? Well, it seems I need to keep training hard," Akira replied, his pen pausing slightly. He then added with a shake of his head, "True strength is actually restrained and explosive, like Garp. No one would guess how powerful he really is."

Despite his words, Akira didn't seem disappointed. On the contrary, he felt confident in the cultivation he mentioned, aiming for a restrained power.

Rouge remained silent, unsure how to respond. She didn't understand anything about training, so she just kept quiet.

Akira didn't expect a reply either. After stamping the Fleet Admiral's seal on the document, he glanced at the door, noticing that the messenger hadn't returned yet.

"Take this to the staff department and ask Vice Admiral Tsuru to come over as well."

"Yes!" Rouge quickly complied.

Akira leaned back in his chair, loosened his tie, took a cigar from the drawer, and lit it, smoking comfortably while waiting.

Soon, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor.

"Fleet Admiral Akira!"

"Fleet Admiral-sama!"

Many greetings filled the air as Akira sat up straight and looked ahead.

Although he had only asked Rouge to call Vice Admiral Tsuru, Admiral Sengoku and Rosinante had also come along.

Akira nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

He looked at Rosinante first and said, "Go ahead and speak."

At this moment, Rosinante's attire had drastically changed. Gone was the shabby lieutenant's uniform, replaced by the high-end, sharp clothing of a Commodore, complete with a cloak bearing the word "justice."

Rosinante's serious expression, paired with the new uniform, made him look quite handsome and dignified.

"Yes!" Rosinante responded, not hesitating. With the two higher-ranking officers present, he knew not to take up too much of the Fleet Admiral's time.

He quickly reported, "Fleet Admiral-sama, the Marine News Branches in the Four Seas have been established, and a price war has also begun."

"But we've encountered a problem."

Akira frowned. "What's the problem?"

Securing control over public opinion across the Four Seas was crucial. There was no room for mistakes.

Rosinante quickly explained, "It's about the funds. I withdrew 30 billion berries from the Marine Bank some time ago, but when I tried to withdraw the remaining 70 billion berries yesterday to secure victory in one move, the staff said it required your authorization."

Rosinante handed over the report he had prepared.

Akira skimmed through it and saw that the report requested the withdrawal of 70 billion berries to overpower all newspapers worldwide.

He nodded. No problem.

First, it had already been promised.

Second, the funds were earmarked for the expansion of the Ministry of Information, as stated in the application.

Akira reached out, ready to stamp the document with the Fleet Admiral's seal.

If it had been someone he didn't trust, he wouldn't have been so quick to approve it. He would have arranged for several people to handle the task together, with multiple parties overseeing it, and the Criminal Investigation Bureau specifically monitoring it for peace of mind.

After all, 100 billion berries is a significant amount. While it might not seem much to a major force, it's a fortune beyond the reach of ordinary people, a wealth that most could never earn in a lifetime.

Few can resist such a temptation.

It's one thing to casually authorize the withdrawal of tens of billions of berries, but it's different when it involves Rosinante.

Akira knew the full story and probably understood Rosinante's nature better than even Fleet Admiral Sengoku did. Someone like Rosinante would never pocket the money for himself; in fact, he might even go to great lengths to protect it if necessary.

Seeing Akira's trust in his adopted son, Sengoku couldn't help but smile. This trust represented the affirmation of the most powerful and wisest people in the Marines.

Rosinante was deeply moved, his expression firm as he silently vowed to work hard and live up to this trust.

But not everyone was in agreement.

"Please wait, Fleet Admiral Akira," Vice Admiral Tsuru suddenly spoke, stopping Akira from stamping his seal.

"What's the matter, Tsuru-san?" Akira asked, raising his head.

Sengoku and Rosinante were also puzzled, but they didn't think Tsuru was speaking out of distrust of either of them. After all, Rosinante had been raised by her as well.

"Read this report first, and then make your decision," Tsuru suggested, handing over a document from the thick stack she had brought.

The title caught Akira's attention immediately: *Report on Major Issues Concerning the Recent Reduction of Bailey Deposits at Marine Bank.*

As Akira read the full report, the cigar in his mouth burned more rapidly.

After thoroughly digesting the contents, he tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully before finally picking up the Fleet Admiral's seal and stamping Rosinante's application report decisively.

With that stamp, 70 billion berries were allocated from the Marine Bank.

Tsuru closed her eyes and stepped back. As a senior staff officer, she had done her duty by raising the concern. But if Akira, the Fleet Admiral, decided to proceed anyway, it was beyond her purview to worry further.

Akira handed the approved report back to Rosinante with a smile. "Do well, but I have a suggestion you might want to consider."

"Please, Fleet Admiral, go ahead," Rosinante replied, accepting the report solemnly and saluting.

"Well, during the price war, or even when it just starts, you might consider having someone approach the newspaper bosses and ask if they're willing to sell their papers. We could buy them out."

"After the acquisition, we'd rename them under the Marine News Department."

"As for how much it'll cost, you can determine that based on the situation."

Rosinante's eyes lit up as he considered Akira's suggestion. He quickly realized the numerous benefits of such an approach.

The most significant advantage would be saving money. In a prolonged price war, even if the competition is driven out, maintaining low prices could take a year or two. But if the papers could be bought outright, there'd be no need for such prolonged conflict.

Moreover, the original teams could continue to produce the news, meaning no operational downtime or setbacks—just benefits.

"Son, the headquarters is very short of money lately, so save as much as you can," Tsuru added as a reminder.

Only then did Rosinante fully grasp why Tsuru had initially wanted to halt Akira from approving the funds. His admiration for her deepened, realizing how strategic her thinking was.

Not long ago, the headquarters was flush with funds. Facing competitors, their approach was straightforward—overwhelm and conquer. It made sense; if you could steamroll the competition, why waste time with tactics?

But now, with the headquarters running low on funds, Fleet Admiral Akira had only just learned of the situation, yet he immediately devised a more economical acquisition strategy. 

"Fleet Admiral Akira's mind is truly impressive," Rosinante thought to himself, admiringly. "I'm not on his level."

Without hesitation, Rosinante responded, "Don't worry, Fleet Admiral. The News Department is stable for now. I'll travel the world and negotiate directly with those newspaper executives."

"A business trip? That's fine. Just remember to bring a few extra Den Den Mushi," Akira replied, not stopping him. Fieldwork would undoubtedly yield better results than sitting in an office.

With that, Rosinante left with the approved application.

Akira took a moment to flick the ash off his cigar, then turned his attention to the remaining two officers. His gaze lingered on the stack of documents in Tsuru's hands, but he reluctantly decided to address Sengoku first. He knew that the documents Tsuru held likely contained more nerve-wracking issues, especially regarding the lack of funds.

"Sengoku, it's your turn," Akira said.

"Understood!" Sengoku stepped forward, handing over the report he was holding. "The Marine Criminal Investigation Bureau is now fully operational, with basic staffing in place. I'm ready to step down as Admiral and officially become the Director of the Investigation Bureau."

"These are the officers' lists for the Bureau. Please review them," Sengoku added.

Akira skimmed through the list and quickly noticed a familiar name: Issho.

He recalled the news from the system logs about Issho, also known as Fujitora, who would one day become a Marine Admiral. Akira considered the assignment carefully. Issho was undoubtedly powerful, and his future as an Admiral was certain. However, starting him as a recruit would be an insult to his abilities and a waste of talent.

Yet, promoting someone directly to a high position without following the Marine system's standard promotion criteria could stir dissatisfaction. Appointing an unfamiliar figure like Issho as a senior officer could cause unrest.

In the world of the Marines, the prerequisites for successfully accepting an higher officer were twofold: the individual must already be a recognized figure at the top of the system, and the Marines must be in dire need of such a leader.

Fujitora didn't quite fit these criteria, and the current state of the Marines, stable under Akira's leadership, didn't urgently require a new hero to turn the tide. Furthermore, without the power of the Press-Press Fruit, Issho's strength might not have reached the level required for an Admiral.

Thus, the best course of action was to start Issho as a high-level assistant, using this position as a stepping stone. With time and some significant contributions, Issho could earn the military merits necessary for a higher position, allowing him to ascend naturally within the Marine ranks.

Satisfied with the plan, Akira continued reviewing the personnel names, then stamped the document with the Fleet Admiral's seal, confirming his approval.

"That's settled. Report back in a month," Akira instructed.

"Understood," Sengoku replied, taking the document back with mixed emotions. The stamp signified the end of his role as a Marine Admiral, a reality that left him feeling conflicted.

But Sengoku quickly composed himself and pulled out two more documents.

"This is a list of talents recommended by various bases to headquarters," he began, "And one more from West Blue, uh…"

Sengoku paused, his lips curling as he looked at Akira with a peculiar expression.

"Criminal charges against you!"

Pffft~~

Akira nearly choked, sputtering in surprise.