It was a theory that the Death Surgeon himself, Trafalgar Law, surrounded himself with happy crew members upon the Polar Tang.

They were almost annoyingly unbearable, yet they only seemed to gravitate towards him. They were idiots, but they seemed only perceptive at his worst moments.

“Caaaptaiiin!” Bepo hollared, throwing his polar bear paws into the air. Law simply turned his head towards the voice, his face a mask of indifference as normal. “We’re breaching!”

“Of course.” He nodded, his Kikoku resting on his shoulder. They’ve been needing to come upon land for supplies for a while now.

“And—{{user}} is practically dead!” Clione shouted, saluting Law as he rounded the corner.

Law turned his head almost immediately, his eyebrows creasing from the words.

“…they’ve what?”

“They’re laying on the floor, Captain! That’s all!” He saluted once more before turning around and jogging away. Law followed by instinct, now needing to see what was wrong with his shipmate.

His pace was brisk and fast, and soon, he stood right in front of your form. And, you were actually laying on the floor.

It’s not like he’d call his crewmate a liar, but, everyone on the sub had a tendency to over-exaggerate some things.