The afternoon sun lazily spilled onto the windowsill of the base's main building.
Inside the office, an ancient fan creaked and groaned as it spin, barely fighting a losing battle against the sweltering heat.
Reginald had his boots propped comfortably on his desk, fiddling with a fancy lighter.
His gaze, however, was locked on a string of light-blue numbers floating in the empty air that only he could see.
[Time until mission failure (forced deportation): 27 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes]
"Less than a month left on the clock..."
Watching those beautiful numbers tick down, Reginald couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling into a shit-eating grin.
He eventually had to slap a hand over his face to muffle his weird, creeping "Kukuku" laughter.
"Mary, babe, I've already got the cash for the down payment on our new place. We're getting married the second I get back!"
Three years ago, Reginald had transmigrated into this messed-up world overrun by pirates, where human life was worth shit.
To make it worse, he was bound to some system called the [Strongest Marine Training System].
The System's ultimate goal? Make him the Fleet Admiral and bring order to the chaos of the seas!
But who the hell was Reginald?
He was just an ordinary corporate worker from Earth who desperately craved a nine-to-five job, a wife, kids, and a warm bed!
Fight those monsters who could destroy islands on a whim?
You've got to be fucking kidding me!
Fortunately, as annoying as this System was, it had a failure clause filled with sweet, sweet rewards!
[If the host fails to be promoted to the rank of "Commander" within the specified time, or is unfortunately killed in the line of duty, the system will deem the training a failure.]
[Failure Penalty: The host's identity will be stripped, a separation package of 100 million US dollars will be provided, and the host will be deported to their original world.]
Would you look at that? How is that a penalty? That's clearly a blessing from the gods!
To achieve this grand goal of "total failure," Reginald had spent the last three years racking his brains.
He actively requested a transfer away from the bustling Marine Headquarters to the East Blue, the so-called "Weakest Sea," and specifically picked the branch in Shells Town—the one ruled by that maniac, "Axe-Hand" Morgan.
Morgan was a tyrant, arrogant and full of himself.
Not only did he steal credit from his subordinates, but the guy also loved to build a cult of personality around himself.
In the eyes of others, this place was hell.
But in Reginald's eyes? It was paradise!
All he had to do was lie low as an insignificant nobody, drink tea, read the newspaper, shove all the credit onto Morgan, and take the blame for any screw-ups.
He just had to stagnate in his position as a Lieutenant Commander.
In another 27 days, he could grab that 100 million dollars from the System and return to Earth to live like a king!
Knock, knock, knock.
A sharp knocking sound came from the door.
Reginald quickly kicked his feet off the desk, rubbed his face, and slapped on a serious expression.
"Come in."
The guy who walked in was his adjutant, Master Chief Petty Officer Lucas.
He was a man with black-framed glasses who was obsessively neat and always carried a notebook like it was his bible.
"Lieutenant Commander Reginald, here are this month's financial reports, as well as the 'special tax' demanded by Captain Morgan."
Lucas pushed up his glasses with a hint of suppressed rage in his tone.
"The Captain is extorting the people again. The residents of this town can barely survive as it is."
"Give it to him. Give it all to the bastard," Reginald waved his hand dismissively.
"Money is just a worldly possession, Lucas. As long as the Captain is happy, that's all that matters."
Lucas's pen froze.
He gave Reginald a deep, intense look before scribbling furiously in his notebook.
[To maintain the peace of the branch, the Lieutenant Commander has once again endured humiliation for the greater good, single-handedly bearing the weight of his superior's greed. What incredible humility and big-picture thinking.]
Of course, Reginald had no damn clue what his adjutant was hallucinating about.
He pulled open a drawer and stared at the mountain of Berry piled inside.
This was his salary and some "gray income" from the past three years, amounting to several million Berry.
"Lucas, I'm heading out." Reginald grabbed the money pouch from the desk and stuffed the whole thing into his coat.
"Do you need me to accompany you, Lieutenant Commander?"
"No need. It's a private matter."
He was about to leave anyway.
This Berry would just be waste paper back on Earth.
Reginald remembered a former comrade of this body's original owner—a soldier who had died three years ago taking a blow meant for him.
The soldier's only dying wish was for Reginald to look after his widow... who ran a tavern in town.
"I haven't visited much these past few years because I wanted to avoid trouble. Now that I'm leaving, might as well give all this cash to her and her daughter."
Reginald sighed and touched the photo of Mary in his pocket, his eyes softening.
"Consider it earning some good karma before I go."
...
Shells Town, Food Foo Restaurant.
Thanks to Morgan's tyranny, the once-bustling streets were now deserted as a graveyard.
The tavern was just as empty.
"Rika, go wipe down that table over there. Even if there are no customers, we have to keep the place clean."
A voice as gentle as water drifted from behind the bar.
Reginald pushed open the half-closed wooden door, and the wind chime hanging on it let out a crisp jingle.
The sight that greeted him made his once-firm steps falter.
The midday sun slanted through the window, and Ririka was bent over, organizing the liquor cabinet with her back to the door.
She wore a cream-colored apron, the tie at her waist cinching tight to reveal a breathtakingly mature curve.
Hearing the wind chime, she turned around and gently wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
A few strands of chestnut hair, damp with sweat, clung to her fair neck, trembling slightly with her movement.
At thirty, a woman was at her most lethal!
She wasn't flamboyant like a young girl, but more like a ripe peach, exuding a rich fragrance called "gentleness" from head to toe.
Her eyes, in particular, always held a faint sorrow—enough to make any man who saw them want to pull her into a bear hug and protect her from the world.
"Welcome... Ah, it's Lieutenant Commander Reginald!"
Upon recognizing the visitor, a trace of pleasant surprise flashed in Ririka's eyes.
The sorrow dissipated slightly, replaced by a gentle smile.
Gulp.
Reginald's Adam's apple bobbed subconsciously and he immediately mentally slapped himself.
'Calm down! Reginald! This is why you never dared to set foot in here for three years! This woman is a damn 'MILF'!'
For the past three years, although Reginald had been slacking off in this world, he had been an absolute "monk" when it came to relationships.
For Mary back on Earth, he had refused all the matchmakers in town and didn't even dare to look at Ririka longer than necessary.
He firmly believed that only by maintaining his physical and mental purity would he be worthy of hugging Mary on the day he returned home.
'Thank god... only 27 days left. Once I get through today, I'll be completely safe.'
Reginald took a deep breath, silently chanted "Mary's name" three times like a spell, and forcibly suppressed the turmoil in his heart.
He put a stern expression on his face, feigning the look of a righteous man immune to feminine charms.
He walked to the bar, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Without a word, he pulled the bulging money pouch from his coat and slammed it on the counter with a heavy thud.
"Lieutenant Commander Reginald, what is...?"
Ririka was startled, her moist eyes looking at him in confusion.
"Take it." Reginald's voice was deep and magnetic.
To hide his nervousness, he deliberately avoided looking into Ririka's eyes, instead staring at the blue sky outside the window.
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving? Where are you going?"
Ririka's heart tightened.
She subconsciously took a step forward and the faint, sweet fragrance from her body instantly wafted into Reginald's nose.
Reginald stiffened and took a sharp half-step back, maintaining a "safe distance."
"To a very distant place. I might... never come back."
Ririka's face instantly turned pale, and the rag in her hand dropped to the floor.
In this turbulent Great Pirate Era, when an upright Marine officer said words like that, it usually meant a final farewell, like a suicide mission.
"This money is all my savings."
Reginald pointed at the money pouch, his speech quickening as he desperately tried to escape this tempting MILF.
"It's useless to me where I'm going. Buy Rika something nice to eat, or... find a good man to marry in the future."
After saying this, Reginald felt his speech was incredibly cool!
He had disposed of the useless paper, built up his character persona, and most importantly—held his bottom line!
He turned to leave, his steps so hurried he looked like he was fleeing for his damn life.
"Wait!"
A pair of unbelievably soft hands suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
Reginald shuddered as if he'd been struck by lightning.
He turned back to see Ririka's eyes were red-rimmed, tears welling up.
Her tear-streaked face, struggling to hold back her sorrow, was enough to shatter any man's iron will.
"Since... since this is the last time," Ririka's voice trembled, laced with an almost pleading humility.
"Then at least, let me make you dinner. Just as... a farewell meal."
Looking into those tear-filled eyes, the defensive line in Reginald's heart named "Mary" let out a mournful, overburdened cry.
'Just one meal... it should... be fine, right? I, Reginald, have resisted temptation for three years. Am I really going to be afraid of a single dinner?'
"...Alright, then. I'll have to trouble you."
Reginald ultimately relented.
At that moment, he had absolutely no idea that this seemingly "gentlemanly" decision would cause his perfect "go-home plan" to completely collapse in just a few hours!