"Shanks... May I call you that?" Figarland Garling smiled calmly at Shanks. "I would never threaten my own son, after all."
"You said it yourself—your own son," Shanks replied, his expression dark. "But I've never acknowledged any father-son relationship between us."
"It's alright, Shanks, you'll admit it..." Figarland Garling stepped forward, placing a hand on Shanks' shoulder, then glanced at Shanks' hand already gripping Griffin.
"After all, you wouldn't want anything to happen to your friends or your adopted daughter, would you?"
Shanks frowned but ultimately loosened his grip.
He had encountered Figarland Garling some time ago while still pursuing Loki across the seas.
At first, Figarland Garling showed no hostility, merely claiming to be Shanks' biological father and presenting various pieces of evidence.
After verifying the authenticity of the evidence, Shanks had no choice but to acknowledge... this old man was indeed his father.
During that time, he had been quite kind to Shanks, even to Uta.
For a while, Shanks thought his father had sought him out solely for a family reunion.
But then, during his battle with Loki, Figarland Garling kidnapped his daughter from behind the scenes.
His best friend and quartermaster, Buggy the Clown, happened to be with Uta at the time and was taken as well.
The condition for Buggy and Uta's return was to send Loki back to Elbaf and gather information about Michael's whereabouts.
"I hope you keep your word."
The killing intent in Shanks' eyes was barely restrained. "You... sharing your bloodline is the greatest disgrace of my life."
"We are Celestial Dragons, Shanks." Figarland Garling laughed heartily. "The exalted bloodline of the Celestial Dragons, and you call it a disgrace? Do you know how many people in this world wish to become Celestial Dragons?"
Shanks remained silent, his terrifying gaze fixed on the old Celestial Dragon who claimed to be his father.
His eyes locked onto Figarland Garling's neck.
If not for the fact that Buggy and Uta's current whereabouts were unknown, Shanks would have drawn his blade and slit the old man's throat without hesitation.
This feeling of wanting to fight but being unable to... was utterly agonizing.
"Stop looking at me like that, dear son." Figarland Garling tossed out the words before turning to leave.
"Go now. Bring back more information about Michael."
"What... do you really want?"
"To turn Michael, the Seraphim who represents the end, into a grounded chicken that can never fly again." Figarland Garling muttered to himself.
"No matter how strong Michael is, he can never surpass Uranus."
...
Michael descended from the sky and returned to Baltigo at high noon.
His landing drew the attention of the headquarters' guards, but their worry instantly turned to joy upon recognizing him.
"Chief of Staff! You've returned!"
"The leader and the other officers have been waiting for you."
Michael nodded, then asked, "Has the delivery from Whole Cake Island arrived?"
"Yes! They sent that strange machine. It's in the warehouse now."
"Good. Remain vigilant."
Michael nodded at the Revolutionary Army members guarding the headquarters, receiving looks of reverence and excitement in return.
Admiration for the strong is a common trait among most people.
Especially so in the world of One Piece.
A powerful figure like Michael, combined with his approachable nature, has always elicited such reactions from those within the Revolutionary Army.
Even Michael himself had grown accustomed to being stared at with such gazes.
Though Baltigo was a barren wasteland, appearing utterly lifeless at first glance, this very characteristic made it a "blind spot" for the World Government's surveillance.
After all, no one would pay attention to what might exist on a completely deSorate island.
As a headquarters, its natural geographical concealment was nothing short of a godsend.
In a way, even routine patrols like today's seemed unnecessary.
In fact, too many people might only make this hidden location more prone to exposure.
Michael pondered—this was something he really ought to discuss with Dragon.
The safety of Baltigo was of utmost importance.
Unless the Revolutionary Army was ready for an all-out war with the World Government, employing strategies like "home-swapping," Baltigo as their headquarters must never fall into enemy hands.
"Or perhaps... after the N.E.W Marine merges with the Revolutionary Army, we could have Vegapunk modify Baltigo. Combined with Stella's mass-produced 'Island Clouds,' maybe we could turn Baltigo into an amphibious war fortress, capable of operating both at sea and in the sky..."
Michael muttered to himself as he walked toward the center of Baltigo.
The closer he got to the middle, the more people he encountered.
Upon seeing him, they would instinctively pause before saluting.
Their respect for Michael was entirely heartfelt.
Even though Michael hadn't spent as much time within the Revolutionary Army as their leader Dragon or other high-ranking officers, every time he took action, he propelled the organization forward by leaps and bounds...
And without any major setbacks.
Michael nodded in acknowledgment to the Revolutionary Army soldiers.
In this ignorant and backward era, the fact that they had chosen to join the Revolutionary Army was already commendable.
After all, before enlisting, most of their fundamental understanding of the world was no different from that of ordinary civilians.
Truly, many had made it this far purely driven by "passion and conviction."
"Michael, you're finally here."
Outside the conference hall, Bartholomew Kuma stood waiting, greeting Michael with a gentle, warm smile.
"A few days ago, Ginny and Bonney told me they ran into you at Little Garden. I was disappointed I couldn't see you myself."
"The way you say it makes it sound like that day was my funeral, and you missed your chance to see me one last time." Michael sighed and patted Kuma's arm. "Ahhh... Kuma, please stop learning Ginny's misleading way of speaking..."
Then he pushed open the door—only to be met with an enormous face.
"Isn't this my favorite Michael!? Hee—Haw!"
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