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The voice that had just come through the Den Den Mushi was unmistakably heard by Kizaru. The tone, the unwavering conviction in the words, and the sheer force of will behind them sent a chill down his spine.
That nameless Commodore… he wasn't bluffing.
"Deploy warships. Sweep the perimeter immediately."
"But… " Vice Admiral Noas opened his mouth to protest, only to be cut off mid-sentence by Kizaru.
"Don't waste time. Even if you interrogate every last soldier there, you won't get anything useful."
Noas froze, and a deep sense of unease welled up inside him.
Half an hour later, when a panicked report crackled through the Den Den Mushi about the situation near the edge of the sea zone, silence fell over the warship. An Admiral and five Vice Admirals stood on the deck, but not a single one could find the words to speak.
"We need to get to the bottom of this. Quickly." Kizaru paused, his expression turning slightly weary. "And… report this to Marine Headquarters."
He could already picture the reactions of the old men back at HQ. Whatever their faces looked like, they wouldn't be pleasant.
Nearly four thousand Marines had defected. If word of this got out, it would be disastrous, not just for the Marines' prestige, but for the balance of power in the world. For the higher-ups, this was nothing short of a crisis.
The situation on Baterilla Island had come to a close. The Rojen group, which had slipped through the blockade, had disappeared without a trace, making pursuit nearly impossible.
In the boundless sea, trying to locate a single individual was like chasing shadows. They'd have to wait until he surfaced again, and given Rojen's disguise abilities, bordering on Devil Fruit-level precision, Kizaru wasn't holding his breath.
…
Marine Headquarters, Marineford
Bang!
A sharp thud rang out as every Rear Admiral, Vice Admiral, and Admiral snapped their attention to the grim-faced Marine standing at the end of the long table.
"The fugitive has escaped," The man said, voice cold and level. "And before fleeing, he managed to seriously injure Kizaru."
"He also rescued Gol D. Roger's wife."
"Additionally, under Glans' command, nearly four thousand Marines have defected. They commandeered four warships. Their current whereabouts are unknown."
Kong delivered the report without emotion. There was no fury. No fear. Just cold, hard facts.
Around the table, not a single officer spoke.
"Is it that the Marines are too weak?" Kong mused aloud, expression tightening. "Or are the enemies simply too strong?"
Still, no one answered. It was the kind of question no one dared to touch.
"I never imagined something like this would happen right before my retirement... Words fail me."
He shook his head with a sigh.
"Sengoku, Tsuru, compile all intelligence gathered so far. Analyze it. Present your findings to everyone."
He let out a tired, almost ironic laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
"I honestly don't know whether to be angry... or amused."
And with that, Kong sat down, the room still heavy with silence.
Upon hearing Kong's instructions, Sengoku nodded solemnly, his expression calm yet focused, and began flipping through the documents laid out before him.
These reports had been gathered from various Marine branches in record time. Yet, as Sengoku sifted through the information, many of the details struck him as unusual, too perfect in execution, too coincidental to ignore.
For nearly an hour, he read in silence. At times, his brows furrowed. At others, a faint smile crossed his lips. Occasionally, he would nod, deep in thought.
Eventually, Sengoku gathered the files into a neat stack, his expression growing increasingly grave.
"Fleet Admiral," He said quietly, rising to his feet. "I'm ready."
Kong looked up from his seat. "Did you find anything?"
"I didn't quite grasp it at first," Sengoku admitted, "But now… I believe I see the outline."
"Good," Kong said, nodding with approval.
He had always considered Sengoku the ideal successor, wise, sharp, and decisive. A man who combined the analytical mind of a strategist with the courage of an Admiral.
"First," Sengoku began, scanning the room, "This operation was executed with absolute precision. There were no visible flaws."
"The failure wasn't due to negligence on the part of the Marines."
"Second," He continued, voice heavy, "Regarding the defection of the four thousand Marines… all I can say is, "
He paused, shaking his head with a long sigh.
"It's a tremendous loss."
That was all he could say, regret.
During the investigation, he had thoroughly reviewed the personal files and service record of Lieutenant Commander Glans. Sengoku understood the man's path, understood what had driven him.
Once a promising officer, Glans had encountered one obstacle after another in his pursuit of justice.
In terms of principle, Glans had done nothing wrong. His only mistake was standing on the wrong side of the line.
Yes, the battle between Marines and pirates was never as simple as good versus evil. Often, it was a conflict of ideals and loyalties.
Rojen had been marked by the Marines not for any crime of his own, but for his connection to the Pirate King. By extension, Rouge, Roger's wife, had been implicated as well.
In these high-stakes positions, justice wasn't always about morality. Sometimes, decisions were made out of necessity, not righteousness.
"And finally, "
Sengoku's expression darkened. His voice dropped, steady but intense.
"This concerns the intelligence we've gathered on Rojen himself."
From the folder, he pulled out a photograph: a slender young boy dressed in black. He slid it to the center of the long table.
The officers leaned in.
It was Rojen. In the photo, he looked entirely ordinary with soft features, a quiet air about him. Just a boy.
"Take a look," Sengoku said. "This image was taken before Roger's execution."
"Back then, Rojen looked like any other child."
He glanced around the room, locking eyes with the officers.
"Yes, you're not mistaken, at that time, he was just a child."
"No martial arts. No swordsmanship. No Devil Fruit powers."
"In fact, in actual combat, he wouldn't have been able to defeat even a small-time thug from Loguetown."
His words triggered murmurs among the ranks.
Kong's eyes narrowed. Even Garp, known for his calm in any crisis, showed a flicker of surprise.
"That's impossible!" A Vice Admiral blurted out. "He injured Kizaru and defeated Dragon! That kind of strength requires years of cultivation!"
"You're right," Sengoku agreed. "No one could reach that level without immense training and discipline."
"And that, " His voice sharpened, "Is exactly the problem."
"Even the most gifted Marine genius wouldn't have half the strength Rojen has shown at his age."
"The power you've witnessed isn't just extraordinary, it's unnatural."
"He shouldn't have this power."
Sengoku paused, his gaze sweeping across the stunned officers.
"And the truth is… he doesn't."
A small, knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth.
His voice was calm, but his words carried weight.
Heavy. Ominous. Certain.
(End of Chapter)