West Blue — Port of Marine Branch 133 Headquarters
Several Marine soldiers stood lazily on guard duty at the port.
Suddenly, one of them narrowed his eyes and stared out at the sea."Hey… that warship—doesn't it look kind of familiar?"
"Huh?" Another soldier looked up. The very next second, his eyes flew wide open."Wait—look at the figure standing at the bow… that silhouette—"
"I-It's Vice Admiral Gern's ship!!"
"What?!"Several soldiers jumped to their feet at once."Wasn't he in the New World?!"
"Doesn't matter! Hurry—notify Base Commander Asahi!"
"There's no time! The ship's already docking!"
In the chaos, one soldier grabbed a Den Den Mushi, his hands shaking so badly he could barely press the buttons."B-Base Commander! This is bad!The God of the West Blue—n-no, Vice Admiral Gern—h-he's… he's back!"
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the line.
Then came a horrified shout:"WHAT?!"
Immediately afterward, a series of frantic crashing sounds rang out, as if someone had fallen out of their chair.
...
Not long after, as the warship slowly sailed into the harbor of Marine Branch 133—
Gern stood on the deck, gazing at the completely transformed base facilities before him, his expression momentarily distant.
"So much has changed…"
When he had left, this place had been nothing more than an ordinary branch base.
Now—expanded docks, brand-new artillery emplacements, towering watchtowers—every detail proclaimed the scale and authority of a Headquarters Branch.
Gern's fingertips lightly tapped against the ship's rail as memories surged like a tide.
At fifteen years old, he had set sail from this very port, embarking on his journey to Marineford.
From Sea Circle Calendar Year 1485 to now, 1494—Nearly ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.
Time really does fly.
"Vice Admiral Gern, we're preparing to dock," the sergeant's voice pulled him back to reality.
"Mm."Gern took a deep breath and adjusted his coat.
The instant the gangplank was lowered, the Marines on duty at the port collectively froze.
"That's—"
"There's no mistake… that coat—"
"It's 'Heavenquake' Vice Admiral Gern!!"
The commotion spread like ripples across the harbor.
The new recruits stared in wide-eyed disbelief, while the veterans trembled with barely contained excitement.
Just then, a familiar figure burst out of the base building at full sprint.
"Make way! Everyone, move aside!"
That voice sent a jolt through Gern's entire body.
A lean figure shoved through the crowd, running flat out—colonel's insignia gleaming under the sunlight.
The man skidded to a halt five meters from the gangplank, polished shoes screeching sharply against the concrete.
"Asahi?"Gern almost couldn't recognize the officer before him.
In his memory, Asahi had been a branch ensign with a protruding beer belly.Now, the man was so lean that his cheekbones jutted sharply.
Asahi's lips trembled slightly as his gaze slowly traveled upward from Gern's shoulders.
The boy from back then—had grown into someone he now had to look up at.
"Report!"Asahi suddenly straightened, snapping into an impeccably precise salute."Marine Branch 133, West Blue Headquarters Branch—Base Commander, Marine Lieutenant Colonel Asahi—welcomes Vice Admiral Gern for inspection!"
Gern blinked—then laughed.
After all, he hadn't returned in nearly ten years.It was only natural for Asahi to test the waters like this.
Instead of replying, Gern stepped forward and gave Asahi's shoulder a solid slap.
"What are you doing, you idiot?""I'm telling you—I came back on vacation, you know."
With that single gesture and sentence, the tension evaporated instantly.
Asahi's shoulders visibly relaxed, and a familiar grin spread across his face."Knew it… I mean—knew Vice Admiral Gern would still be the same."
Around them, the jaws of the new recruits nearly hit the ground.
They stared in disbelief as their normally imposing base commander casually slung an arm around the legendary Heavenquake like an old friend.
"So the base commander really knows Vice Admiral Gern…"
"Then all those stories were true?! Does that mean the title 'Pirate Hunter' was actually created by Gern in the West Blue?!"
"And Vice Admiral Gern really came from our branch!"
Asahi shot his subordinates a smug glance, then leaned in close to Gern's ear and whispered,"See that? You're our branch's living signboard.These past few years, eight out of every ten recruits signed up just because of you."
Gern shook his head helplessly—but his eyes inadvertently drifted to the base building.
Hanging there was a massive banner, clearly put up in a hurry:
[A Warm Welcome to the Pride of the West Blue — Vice Admiral Gern, Returning Home]
The corner of Gern's mouth twitched."This isn't also—"
"Ahem! This is the heartfelt sentiment of all officers and soldiers of the branch!"Asahi hurriedly cut him off, desperately changing the subject.
"Oh? Is that so…"Gern raised his head expressionlessly and pointed toward the gigantic, heavily beautified portrait mounted on the building."Then care to explain that? I don't remember turning into some pretty-boy idol, you bastard."
Asahi's smile froze solid.
"T-That…"He wiped cold sweat from his brow."After you left, the pirates of the West Blue were terrified by your reputation, and morale at the branch soared to unprecedented heights!So… we just… did a little… promotion…"
"This?" Gern raised an eyebrow. "A little? 'God of the West Blue,' really?"
"A-Ah!"Asahi's face flushed bright red."That—that was a title the civilians came up with on their own! We merely… followed public opinion…"
"What a convenient 'following public opinion.'"
"Come on," Asahi hurriedly said, grabbing Gern's arm."I'll show you the newly renovated training grounds—way better than back then—"
Their voices faded as they walked off, leaving behind an entire harbor of dumbstruck Marines.
A freshly enlisted young soldier suddenly tugged on a veteran's sleeve."S-Senior! Did Vice Admiral Gern really serve here?"
The veteran lit a cigarette, his gaze distant."Serve?"He pointed toward an empty stretch of ground."You see those cracks over there?Those were left behind when fifteen-year-old Vice Admiral Gern demonstrated his power."
The recruits exploded into excited chatter, the noise echoing across the training grounds.
Meanwhile—
Gern stood alone at the center of the newly renovated branch plaza.
Sunlight filtered through freshly planted plane trees, casting mottled shadows across his shoulders.
He slowly swept his gaze around him—the unfamiliar yet familiar faces, the youthful but vibrant recruits, the faint smoke drifting from the mess hall in the distance.
A long-forgotten warmth suddenly welled up in his chest, like an early-spring stream flowing over thawed earth.
Every brick and stone here bore traces of his story.
Marine Branch 133 of the West Blue—a place with no blood ties, yet closer than any homeland—
now embraced his return in the gentlest way possible.
Gern took a deep breath, the scent of grass and steel filling his lungs.
In that moment, he finally understood—
Perhaps a "home" was never a geographical location,but a harbor where a drifting soul could finally rest.
And Branch 133—the only place where Gern Reginald Sigmar had spent his childhood in this world—
was once again, after so long, allowing him to feel something called belonging.