Chapter Seventy-Six: The Warship Arrives (Second Update)

Time slipped by, and half a month passed quietly.

In the training ground, Zoro squatted on the ground, holding a branch in each hand. With one, he drew a square; with the other, a circle—both completed smoothly, without the slightest hesitation or pause, every movement as fluid as water.

“Rolan, I’ve finished the task you gave me. What’s next?” Zoro tossed the branches aside, excitement plain in his voice.

These two weeks had been rather dull for Zoro. Each day was nothing but eating and practicing, over and over, until the very repetition threatened to drive him mad. If he hadn’t needed to demonstrate his progress to Rolan today, he might have vomited at the mere sight of squares and circles.

“Now that you’ve accomplished this step, the next one is simple…” Rolan looked at Zoro with satisfaction, imparting the insights he himself had gathered through hard work.

To say he was a master at this was an exaggeration—after all, he wasn’t some revered disciple of a legendary teacher. The so-called “dual-wielding” was just a fancy name he’d given his own method. But for teaching Zoro the basics, it was more than sufficient; how far Zoro could go after grasping the foundation would depend on his own comprehension.

“Colonel Rolan, Colonel Smoker sent me to inform you that your personal warship is about to arrive at the port.”

Coby, dressed in his navy uniform, came running from afar, saluted smartly, and delivered the message in a formal tone.

“They sent you for something like this? I suppose he’s still sulking over what happened half a month ago,” Rolan said with a resigned smile.

“Well…” Coby scratched his head awkwardly, unsure what to say.

Rolan’s decision to purge Rogue Town’s underworld was, in itself, a boon for the town and its people. The problem was, he hadn’t informed the navy, nor had he discussed it with Smoker—he simply went to the execution plaza and carried out a massacre single-handedly. The stench of blood lingered in the square for three whole days before it finally dissipated.

What was Smoker supposed to do? Those who knew the truth realized the victims were all criminals. Those who didn’t thought Rogue Town had become a den of chaos.

Since then, tourism in Rogue Town had been in decline. The execution plaza, once a magnet for visitors, now drew only locals—those who had suffered under the gangs—who would spit at the site, but tourists were nowhere to be seen.

“Enough about that. We can talk later. You said the warship has arrived? Let’s head over to the port and have a look. After all, it’ll be my personal warship for quite some time—I’m rather curious about it.”

Rolan led his group, including Zoro, away from the training ground and toward the docks.

“R—Rolan, sir…”

At the port, Rolan immediately noticed Tashigi, greeting him timidly. Because Smoker was present, she merely offered a greeting and fell silent.

“Smoker, is my warship here?”

Rolan felt no embarrassment—in his view, so long as he wasn’t awkward, the discomfort would fall to others. He joined Smoker naturally and asked with ease.

“I deeply regret helping you apply for the rank of colonel,” Smoker said sourly, his face as grim as ever.

“It was just a bunch of gangsters. You’ve seen the townsfolk’s attitude lately—their support shows I did nothing wrong.”

Rolan’s explanation left Smoker at a loss for words. Rolan’s actions half a month ago couldn’t be called wrong. Ever since Smoker had taken command of Rogue Town, he’d known how much harm Bartolomeo and his gang had wrought. Yet, for various reasons, Smoker had never dealt with Bartolomeo directly, which led to that bloody incident.

Understanding was one thing, but Smoker couldn’t approve of Rolan’s methods. Rolan hadn’t consulted him, hadn’t made a plan—he had simply relied on his formidable strength to wipe out Bartolomeo’s men, leaving Smoker with a colossal mess to clean up.

Smoker didn’t care about criticism from his superiors or the loss of tourists. What bothered him was that Rolan had carried out such a major operation behind his back. Even the business of pest control, or applying for Rolan’s promotion, had all fallen to Smoker to handle.

“Your warship is here. From today onward, you are officially a colonial officer in the navy,” Smoker said coolly, gazing at the sea. As the massive warship bearing the seagull flag drew closer to the dock, he announced the news.

“So this is my future warship?” Rolan’s heart surged as he gazed at the familiar blue hull, barely able to contain his excitement.

It was a super-sized vessel, far larger than Krieg’s Dreadnought Sabre. Pale blue stripes adorned her sides, with several gun ports on the prow and flanks, giving her a fierce and commanding presence. The sails bore the navy’s insignia—the seagull flag—proclaiming her unique status.

“Are we going to live on this ship from now on?” Little Donna had never seen such a large ship before. Her wide eyes sparkled with wonder.

“We’ll be at sea, yes—but not all the time,” Rolan replied with a smile.

The warship docked, sails furled, anchors dropped—all executed with seamless precision by the sailors.

Soon after, led by an officer in a naval commander’s uniform, a neat column of sailors marched before Rolan and Smoker.

“Colonel Smoker, Colonel Rolan, good day. I am Major Pengeles, and I will serve as your executive officer, Colonel Rolan. On behalf of the one thousand and ninety-six officers and crew aboard, I salute you.”

Major Pengeles gave a crisp, regulation salute, his tone solemn.

“Thank you. Just call me Rolan. So this is my future warship?” Rolan asked.

“Yes, Colonel Rolan. Your uniform is on board. Would you like me to bring it to you now?” Pengeles replied.

Rolan shook his head; he had no intention of changing into uniform at that moment. The ship was here—he could change anytime. There was no need to rush.

More important matters awaited him. In fact, this was the reason he’d been anxious for the warship’s arrival.

When he had apprehended Morgan, Morgan had mentioned Kuro, which reminded Rolan of Kuro’s storyline. In the anime, it was only after Luffy and Zoro arrived at Syrup Village that the Black Cat Pirates’ assault occurred. Without Luffy’s intervention, that village would likely have been reduced to ashes by Kuro’s scheme, and the wealthy heiress Kaya would have died.

Because of his own actions, the story had diverged. Luffy was unlikely to reach Syrup Village, so Kuro was his responsibility to deal with. Moreover, his capture of Django at Baratie had already made the papers—if Kuro saw the news, he might become desperate.

From an official standpoint, Kuro was a wanted criminal, and as a navy man, it was only right for Rolan to capture him. Personally, it was his intervention—taking away canonical characters—that had disrupted the original plot and created this crisis. He couldn’t simply ignore it.

Having organized his thoughts, Rolan explained the matter to Smoker. With Morgan already transferred to Navy Headquarters, there was no way for Smoker to verify the story. Even if he met Morgan later, the man would likely remember nothing.

In the end, pinning the responsibility on Morgan was the simplest solution.

Hearing Rolan’s explanation, Smoker let out a sigh. He’d just complained that Rolan slaughtered Bartolomeo’s gang at the execution plaza without consulting him, but now, as a newly minted colonel, Rolan was seeking his advice on pursuing pirates at sea—even in front of his own executive officer. It was a rare gesture of respect.

Within navy headquarters, Rolan’s talent and strength were considered far more valuable than Smoker’s. The disparity was obvious, even in their executive officers: Smoker’s was Bell, a captain in rank, but in practice, it was Tashigi, whose actual rank was only sergeant. Meanwhile, Rolan, a recent recruit, had a major as his right hand. The contrast was stark—and, frankly, a little disheartening.