I Choose In The One Piece Class, Do I Have A Choice?

As Sengoku strode towards his office, he spoke with Kizaru on the phone.

"What! Are you telling me there's someone out there being called a Sword Immortal?" Sengoku was visibly skeptical, thinking that Finn had concocted some wild excuse to sneak off with the female soldiers. But hearing Kizaru's tone made him pause. Could there really be such a person?

"Marshal, I believe this Sword Immortal is likely a Devil Fruit user, but his swordsmanship is the real deal. Judging from our encounter, his skills might even rival Mihawk's," Kizaru said cautiously.

Sengoku's eyes narrowed. Kizaru was being conservative, but the implications were clear. Mihawk was considered the greatest swordsman in the world, and now Kizaru was hinting that this new figure could be on par with him? Sengoku didn't buy it.

"Are you kidding me? First, we hear of someone supposedly surpassing Hawkeye, and now there's a Sword Immortal whose swordsmanship rivals him? You think legendary swordsmen grow on trees?" Sengoku's voice boomed with disbelief. "Polusalino, are you just making excuses because you didn't feel like dealing with this guy? Don't think I won't hold you accountable!"

He stormed into his office, threw a stack of documents on his desk, and habitually reached out to pet his favorite lamb. His hand met nothing but air.

"Wait... where's my sheep?"

Sengoku's brow furrowed in confusion. Kizaru, still on the other end of the phone, felt a surge of guilt.

"Ah, Marshal... something's come up. I'll have to call you back." Kizaru quickly hung up.

Sengoku stared at the phone, then glanced around his office. His gut twisted with unease. Where was his lamb?

Suddenly, the video den den mushi on his desk began to buzz and whirr. Sengoku activated it, and a projection appeared on the wall. His eyes widened in horror.

There, in the image, Kizaru and Aokiji were casually lounging, sipping beer, and happily devouring a roast lamb.

His lamb.

Sengoku's blood pressure spiked as he realized what had happened.

"POLUSALINO! KUZAN! YOU BASTARDS!!!" he roared, slamming his fist down on his desk, sending papers flying.

Meanwhile, on the high seas, Finn's super battleship was diving deep beneath the ocean, en route to the New World. There were two ways to get there from Naval Headquarters: either through Mariejois using the bubble lift, or by descending to the ocean depths and passing through Fish-Man Island. Finn, always one for grand gestures, chose the latter.

The battleship's dive mode kicked in, with transparent polymer partitions emerging to shield the deck, transforming the vessel into an underwater fortress. The ship descended into the ocean with a gentle hum, and soon the vibrant world of the deep sea unfolded before them.

"Wow! We're really under the sea!" one of the female soldiers exclaimed, her voice filled with awe.

"This is incredible!"

"We made the right choice following Master Finn!" another chimed in, the crew collectively marveling at the stunning aquatic views.

On the foredeck, Nami and the others were equally entranced by the sight. Robin, drink in hand, approached Finn, who was lounging on a chair, and placed the drink on a nearby table. She began to massage his shoulders.

"You never cease to amaze me, little brother," Robin said with a sly smile.

"Oh? Is it me who amazes you, or the ship?" Finn teased, taking a sip of his drink.

"You and your mouth." Robin playfully tapped his head with her finger, enjoying the easy banter. She glanced down at her outfit and asked, "Does this purple suit me?"

Finn barely blinked. "Of course, sister. You look amazing in purple."

Robin's eyes narrowed, her hand reaching up to pinch his ear. "You little rascal, I'm not even wearing purple."

Finn winced, realizing he'd been caught. Robin was wearing a blue and white dress. The purple she was referring to was something only his special vision could detect—her bikini underneath.

"You've been using those special eyes of yours, haven't you?" she teased, though her voice was light and playful.

Finn, caught red-handed, shrugged sheepishly. "When did you start suspecting?"

"From the moment I lost a bet to you, and you slipped up a few times after that. But now I'm sure," she replied, her tone warm rather than accusatory.

Robin pinched his cheek gently. "You tricked me good, but since you've treated me so well, I can't stay mad. However, I think you deserve a little punishment."

Finn laughed nervously. "Punishment?"

"Close your eyes and brace yourself," Robin instructed with mock seriousness.

Obligingly, Finn closed his eyes, bracing for what was to come. Suddenly, he felt a quick, soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes flew open in surprise.

"That's your punishment?" Finn said, bewildered.

"Got a problem with that?" Robin asked, her fingers brushing her lips as she smiled mischievously.

"Not at all. In fact, I'd like more punishment," Finn replied, grinning.

Robin tapped him on the forehead lightly. "You wish! Maybe later."

Though Robin tried to play it cool, she could feel her heart racing. For now, all was well—better than she could've hoped for. She smiled to herself, thinking how fortunate she was.

"Finn, you really are something special," she whispered, her affection for him growing with each moment they spent together.