One Piece: Marine Luffy, Garp regrets it

In the blink of an eye, another two years had passed. It was now the year 1520 in the Sea calendar—the very year when, in the original timeline, Luffy would have first set out to sea.

May 5th of this year also marked Luffy's 17th birthday. Though this age represented legal adulthood in many nations, others set the threshold at 18. Yet despite being at or just approaching this transitional age, Luffy already occupied a position of extraordinary influence—not merely as the commander of a Marine base, but as one of the World Government's paramount military assets.

Throughout the seas, perhaps only Im in the Holy Land could claim to surpass Luffy's power at such a young age. Even in terms of strategic importance, the Five Elders—the highest authority in the world—likely valued Luffy above many of their noble but ultimately useless and incompetent Celestial Dragon associates.

Attaining such prominence and authority at his age, Luffy's name had inevitably become universally recognized. His various exploits and the rumors surrounding them provided endless material for dinnertime conversations among ordinary citizens across the world.

To countless noblewomen, he represented the perfect prospective partner. For passionate young men everywhere, his achievements embodied aspirational goals—simultaneously inspiring and seemingly unattainable.

Yet what occupied this universally admired figure during his leisure hours?

"Mmm~ah~comfortable~yes~right there, use more pressure..."

Luffy, bare-chested and wearing only a pair of shorts, reclined on a beach chair while receiving a massage from Hiyori Kozuki. Occasionally, his appreciative murmurs produced sounds that might easily be misinterpreted by anyone passing by.

Hearing these ambiguous utterances, Hiyori blushed deeply as she continued working her fingers into his rock-hard muscles, applying her full strength to make any impression on his densely packed physique.

This continued for approximately ten minutes until Luffy sensed the diminishing pressure from her increasingly fatigued hands.

"Alright," he sighed, somewhat disappointed. "Let's conclude today's session here."

As he spoke, he turned over and prepared to sit upright. Hiyori, visibly relieved, quickly reached for a clean towel placed nearby, intending to wipe the perspiration from Luffy's body.

Observing her flushed, exhausted face covered in sweat while noting his own unchanged condition, Luffy waved dismissively.

"You should attend to yourself first," he suggested.

Hiyori paused momentarily, glancing up at the towering figure before her, then down at the towel clutched in her hands. A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, immediately followed by apprehension—perhaps her service had proven unsatisfactory, and he now viewed her unfavorably.

Throughout their two-year acquaintance, Luffy had neither accepted Hiyori as one of his romantic partners nor dismissed her from his presence with convenient excuses. He maintained her proximity much like an ordinary attendant, permitting her presence primarily to enhance his public image.

This arrangement left Hiyori deeply disappointed. She considered herself exceptionally beautiful, certainly comparable to the women already in Luffy's intimate circle. Perhaps he genuinely lacked interest in her, or perhaps his collection of companions had simply reached capacity.

Regardless of her subtle hints or even direct overtures, Luffy consistently declined to incorporate her among his chosen partners.

Observing Hiyori's downcast expression, Luffy's gaze revealed no particular emotional response or special consideration.

"Return to the residence," he instructed casually, "and inform those slackers hiding indoors that if they don't emerge to enjoy the sunshine, I'll personally collect them one by one."

"...Yes, Admiral," Hiyori replied softly.

She offered a slight bow, lips compressed in reluctant compliance, before retreating several steps, turning, and departing with brisk strides.

Luffy's attention shifted elsewhere immediately upon her departure, never once tracking her retreating figure.

"My, my, what a heartless man," came a teasing voice from nearby. "She has made her feelings for you abundantly clear. Such persistent disregard risks inflicting genuine wounds upon a woman's heart."

The focus of Luffy's gaze had shifted to an elegant dark-haired woman reclining on a nearby beach chair, her shapely jade-white legs crossed as she lounged in a provocative purple swimsuit, leisurely perusing a book.

She embodied a perfect synthesis—the regal bearing of aristocracy combined with the refined demeanor of a scholar. Even after two years of close companionship, the sight of Robin still provoked unmistakable reactions from Luffy, stirring feelings deep within him that he couldn't entirely control.