One Piece: Please Call Me Godfather!

After handling the Black Cat Pirates' affairs, the time had reached nightfall, and Francklin had just finished a day of work, returning to his quarters.

At dusk, he received a call from the department. Officer Morgan, who had dismantled the Black Cat Pirates and captured Hundred Plans Kuro, was praised for his great accomplishment and promoted to Lieutenant Colonel of the East Sea 153rd division.

Francklin felt somewhat moved.

At over forty years old, Morgan had risen through the ranks similarly with his rocket-like advancement, while Francklin wondered how many more years he would remain stuck in his current position as a Colonel.

His naval career had been quite turbulent.

Unlike the other officers who graduated from Zephyr's prestigious naval training, Francklin had truly climbed from the bottom up. He was promoted from a teaching role to the position of a division officer in his thirties, partly thanks to his good luck with a Devil Fruit.

However, his luck turned sour when he had to wait in his post for an extended period and was later thrown into factional struggles, eventually being reassigned to Grand Line as a base commander of a naval division.

After working hard for years to get promoted to Colonel, he was sent to Loguetown to guard the East Sea checkpoint.

Now, he was in his forties.

Though he had often told himself not to expect too much and to accept his current position, which was already not bad, Francklin knew deep inside that he was still dissatisfied.

He knew that he still wanted to climb higher.

After closing his room door, Francklin prepared to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge.

Whenever he felt troubled, he would always want to have a drink to relax his emotions.

But today, the situation was a little different.

"Work is really hard, and I haven't even had dinner. Let's eat together."

To his surprise, the lights were on in the house, and the usual mess had been cleaned up. In the dim light, a handsome man sat at the dining table, slowly tying his napkin.

On the table were two hot meals.

"Then, Teacher, I will head out now."

From the kitchen, an elderly man in a white chef's uniform came out, carrying his tools, and bowed respectfully to the man.

"Take care, Mr. Rona. Your cooking always brings me such joy. I'm sorry for disturbing you so late. As for your payment, you can go to Sidley, the butler, for a bonus. How does that sound?" Reinhardt said with a smile.

"That's enough, enough, thank you, Sir," the old chef said with a beaming face, leaving.

As Francklin stepped forward, he said, "Lieutenant Colonel, could you please move aside?"

"A, alright."

Francklin instinctively stepped aside.

It wasn't until the old chef closed the door from the outside that he realized what had happened.

"Ulysses - Reinhardt!!"

The Lieutenant Colonel shouted angrily, "What the hell are you up to, you brat!"

Running around in his own house at this late hour, and calling the chef to cook?

"Can't you see? It's dinner."

Reinhardt cut some beef for himself, "Most problems in life often have more than one solution, but when you're hungry, eating is the only solution."

"Lieutenant Colonel, aren't you hungry?"

"I'm perfectly full!" Francklin sneered, "Get out of here! Don't make me tell you again."

"Full, you say?"

Reinhardt wiped his mouth, looked up, and smiled, "But I actually feel like you're quite hungry."

A second later, Francklin's body suddenly shot forward, and before he knew it, his sword had been drawn, "Invading my house without permission? Don't blame me for defending myself, brat!!"

Though his life had been tumultuous, Francklin was still a skilled fighter. He wasn't just any naval officer; he had the ability to defend Loguetown.

The blade shimmered in the air, a flash of cold steel aimed directly at Reinhardt's neck.

But the deadly blade stopped abruptly in an instant.

"What!!"

Francklin felt an invisible force grip the edge of his blade. He put all his strength into it, but could not budge the sword even an inch.

Is this brat's power?

Invisible force?

"Don't think just because you're a brat that you're some kind of power faker!!"

Francklin growled softly, and in the blink of an eye, his body began to grow taller, fine hairs sprouting from his skin.

"A, just a big cat."

Reinhardt said with some enthusiasm, "I like cats. Cats are different from dogs; they are always full of mystery, and keeping their secrets is a good thing."

"I don't want to hear your nonsense."

At this point, Francklin had grown to around three meters tall, yet he was not bulky. Instead, he appeared sleek and agile.

His fur was golden, with black spots scattered across it.

Zoan-type, Neko Neko no Mi – Wild Cat form!

Francklin dropped his sword, and in the blink of an eye, his body rapidly retreated. Then, using the doorframe as leverage, he shot upward, leaping to the ceiling, and with another push, flew straight at Reinhardt.

The wildcat was a small, agile member of the feline family. While its killing power was naturally weaker than that of large cats like tigers, it far surpassed them in terms of agility and sensitivity.

With a twist, Francklin's sharp claws slashed toward Reinhardt, moving so fast that even Bartolomeo wouldn't have been able to defend in time.

But ——

"Ngagh!!"

It was as if a cannonball suddenly dropped, and Francklin's attack halted abruptly.

An invisible force bound him.

"How—how is this possible!!"

Francklin could hardly believe it!

When he wasn't using his powers, it was understandable, but when he used his abilities, how could he still be so easily bound?

He began struggling with all his might.

There was some effect; at least the mental force binding him twisted and loosened slightly.

But it was only for a moment. After Reinhardt applied a bit more force, Francklin was finally unable to move.

"You... this guy—"

Francklin couldn't believe it. What exactly was this man doing in the Grand Line?

This level of power... even the Lieutenant Generals in his own division might not be able to handle it!

"Enough talking, let's eat. The vegetables are getting cold."

Reinhardt set the plate down, and Francklin's body drifted to the seat across, his hands trembling as he picked up the knife and fork, beginning to cut the steak in front of him. He skewered a piece and brought it to his mouth.

Despite the veins bulging on his forehead, Francklin still ate with proper manners, eventually swallowing the food.

"How is it? Quite delicious, isn't it?"

Reinhardt said with a smile, "Old Rona's cooking skills are quite impressive."

"Reinhardt!!!" Francklin's face was twisted in fury, resembling that of a demon.

"This joke is getting out of hand."

Reinhardt released his mental force, and in an instant, Francklin shot upward, crashing into the table and sending food flying in all directions.

Amid the chaos, Reinhardt remained calm, unaffected, effortlessly avoiding all the falling objects.

"What do you want to do, exactly?"

Francklin got up from the floor, retracting his powers, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

He had understood—there was an overwhelming gap in their strengths. The man before him could play with him like a toy, and he had no power to resist.

It was a mistake.

From the very beginning, it was a mistake.

This man... was he really from the Grand Line?

Even in the New World, he would still be considered a powerhouse!

"I'm here to make a friend."

Reinhardt smiled.

"Aha ha ha," Francklin laughed loudly as if he had heard some kind of joke. "I've never heard of someone making friends like this!"

Reinhardt said, "You're too hasty, Lieutenant Colonel. Rushing will only make us lose our composure and won't do us any good."

"Listen, my friend, I know your stomach is really hungry, let me help you fill it up."

Francklin frowned. "What exactly are you trying to say? I don't understand what you mean!"

"What I'm saying is, the appetizer before the main course, Hundred Plans Kuro, should be able to ease your hunger a bit, right?"

"What?"