At the Marine 133rd Main Branch port in West Blue, several Marine soldiers were lazily standing guard.
Suddenly, one of them squinted, looking out at the sea: “Hey, that warship… isn’t it a bit familiar?”
“Huh?” Another looked up, and the next second his eyes widened, “Wait, the one standing at the bow… that silhouette…”
“It’s, it’s Rear Admiral Gern’s warship!!”
“What?!” Several soldiers jumped up simultaneously, “Isn’t he in the New World?!”
“Never mind that! Quick! Quickly inform Asahi, the Base Commander!”
“Too late! The warship has already docked!”
In a panic, one of the soldiers grabbed a Transponder Snail, his hand shaking so much he could barely press the buttons: “Co-Commander! This is bad!
The God of West Blue… no, Rear Admiral Gern… he’s returned!”
There was two seconds of silence on the other end of the Transponder Snail, followed by a terrified: “What?!”
Then came a series of frantic crashing sounds, as if someone had fallen from a chair.
......
A moment later, as the warship slowly entered the port of the West Blue 133rd Main Branch,
Gern stood on the deck, looking at the completely refurbished base facilities before him, his eyes somewhat dazed.
“What a huge change…” When he left back then, it was just an ordinary Branch base.
Now, the expanded docks, brand new fort , and towering watchtowers all showcased its scale as a ‘Main Branch’.
Gern’s fingertips gently tapped the ship’s rail, memories flooding back like a tide.
At fifteen, he set sail from here, embarking on his journey to Marineford.
From sea circle calendar 1485 to the current 1494, almost ten years have passed in an instant.
Time flies so fast!
“Rear Admiral Gern, preparing to dock.” At this moment, the Sergeant’s voice pulled him back to reality.
“Mm.” Gern took a deep breath and adjusted his cloak.
The moment the gangway was lowered, the Marine soldiers on duty at the port suddenly froze collectively.
“That is…”
“No mistake! That cloak…”
“It’s ‘Heaven Tremor’ Rear Admiral Gern!!” The commotion spread like ripples.
The new recruits’ eyes widened, while the veterans trembled with excitement.
Just then, a familiar figure rushed out of the base building.
“Move aside! Everyone move aside!” The familiar voice made Gern’s whole body tremble.
He saw a lean figure pushing through the crowd, rushing over, his Lieutenant Colonel epaulets glinting in the sunlight.
The man ran to within five meters of the gangway and slammed to a halt, his leather shoes scraping a harsh sound on the concrete.
“Asahi?” Gern could barely recognize the muscular officer before him.
The Branch Ensign with a beer belly from his memory was now so thin that his cheekbones protruded.
Asahi’s lips trembled slightly, his gaze slowly moving up from Gern’s shoulders.
The young man from back then now required him to look up.
“Reporting! West Blue Marine 133rd Main Branch, Commander of the Main Branch, Marine Branch Lieutenant Colonel Asahi…” Asahi suddenly straightened his back and saluted with extreme precision.
“Welcome, Rear Admiral Gern, for your inspection!”
Gern was startled at first, then chuckled.
After all, he hadn’t returned for almost ten years, so it was understandable for Asahi to have such a tentative thought.
So Gern didn’t answer; he simply stepped forward, patted Asahi’s shoulder firmly, and said, “What are you doing, you fella?
I’m telling you, I specifically came back during my leave.”
One action, one sentence, and the tense atmosphere instantly dissipated.
Asahi’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and a familiar smile appeared on his face: “I knew you little… no, I knew Rear Admiral was still the same.”
The new recruits around them almost dropped their jaws.
They stared wide-eyed as their usually stern Commander was now like an old friend, arm-in-arm with the legendary ‘Heaven Tremor’.
“The Commander really knows Rear Admiral Gern…”
“So all those stories are true! Then the title ‘Pirate Hunter’ was indeed created by Gern in West Blue?!”
“Rear Admiral Gern really came from our Branch!”
Asahi proudly glanced at his subordinates, then leaned into Gern’s ear and whispered, “See? You’re our Branch’s living signboard.
Of the new recruits who’ve signed up these past few years, eight out of ten came because of you.”
Gern shook his head helplessly, his gaze inadvertently catching sight of a huge banner temporarily hung on the base building.
【Warm Welcome to West Blue’s Pride, Rear Admiral Gern, Returning Home】
Gern’s mouth twitched: “This wouldn’t also be…”
“Cough cough, this is the heartfelt sentiment of all officers and soldiers of the Branch!” Asahi quickly changed the subject.
“Oh! Is that so…” Gern looked up expressionlessly, pointing to the gigantic, heavily photoshopped portrait on the base building.
“Then you’re not going to explain this? I don’t remember becoming a pretty boy! You scoundrel.”
Asahi’s smile froze.
“Th-this…” He wiped away cold sweat, “After you left, the pirates of West Blue were terrified of your reputation, and the Branch’s morale soared unprecedentedly!
So… we just slightly… promoted it a bit…”
“This? Slightly?” Gern raised an eyebrow, “And ‘God of West Blue’?”
“Oh dear!” Asahi’s face turned beet red: “Th-this is a spontaneous title from the public! We just followed public opinion…”
“A fine ‘following public opinion’ indeed!”
“Come, I’ll show you the newly renovated training ground; it’s much better than back then…”
Their voices faded into the distance, leaving behind a port full of dumbfounded Marines.
A young soldier who had just enlisted suddenly tugged at the old soldier beside him: “Senior! Did Rear Admiral Gern really serve here?”
The old soldier lit a cigarette, his gaze distant: “More than just serve…” He pointed to an empty plot of land.
“See the cracks on it? Those were left by fifteen-year-old Rear Admiral Gern when he demonstrated his abilities back then.”
The new recruits immediately erupted, their clamor echoing over the training ground.
Meanwhile, Gern stood alone in the center of the completely renovated Branch plaza, sunlight filtering through the newly planted sycamore trees, casting dappled shadows on his shoulders.
He slowly looked around at the unfamiliar yet familiar faces, the naive but vibrant new recruits, and the wisps of smoke drifting from the distant mess hall.
A long-lost warmth suddenly welled up in his heart, like a spring stream flowing over frozen ground.
Every brick and tile here bore his story.
The West Blue 133rd Branch, a place with no blood ties but dearer than his hometown, now embraced his return with the gentlest of gestures.
Gern took a deep breath, the scent of grass and steel filling his chest.
He suddenly understood that a so-called hometown was perhaps never a geographical coordinate, but a harbor where a wandering soul could find peaceful rest.
And the 133rd Branch, the only place he had spent his childhood since transmigrating to this world,
now, after a long absence, allowed him, Gern, to feel an emotion called “belonging.”
