Sengoku pursed his lips and said,
"Who would even think about that old geezer? Even at his age, he's still as unreliable as ever."
Zephyr shrugged and replied,
"You're one to talk. Look at yourself—your outfit is a disaster. You were once the Fleet Admiral of the Marines, even if you're retired now, you should at least keep up your appearance."
"Maintaining an image is exhausting, you know? I'm an old man, yet I had to keep dyeing my hair blacker than the youngsters and wear a suit every day. I got sick of it ages ago. Besides, I was only the acting Fleet Admiral—watch your wording!"
Zephyr glanced at Sengoku, removed his glasses, and crossed his arms.
"What? Still brooding over it?"
Sengoku sighed and waved a hand dismissively.
"I had my reservations back then, but there's nothing to dwell on now. Carl was undoubtedly the best choice for Fleet Admiral—even Tsuru said so."
At this, Sengoku's face showed a hint of helplessness as he spread his hands.
"Besides, I've come to realize—I was never able to command those guys properly as Fleet Admiral. Especially Borsalino!"
Hearing Sengoku mention Kizaru, Zephyr couldn't help but chuckle, reminiscing about his days as an instructor.
Sengoku sighed and admitted,
"Zephyr, I've always envied you. Training such exceptional students—you can say you've lived a fulfilling life."
Zephyr laughed heartily, not even pretending to be modest.
"Damn right! The sense of accomplishment beats being Fleet Admiral any day!"
"Hey, hey, hey! Do you even realize how obnoxious that sounds?"
The two men, both past their fifties, bickered like stubborn children in the office until Sengoku's stomach let out a loud rumble.
Flushing slightly, he patted his stomach and said,
"Senbei just doesn't cut it. Are you done with work? Let's grab a bite together."
Zephyr, feeling hungry himself, nodded.
"Not much left to do. Let's go. The canteen—no, forget it. Let's go to my place. We can have a drink too."
"…You can cook?"
"Of course. I've been living alone all these years. How else would I survive? Don't tell me you can't cook?"
"Uh… Of course I can! Who do you think I am? Cooking isn't that hard."
Zephyr gave Sengoku a skeptical look, while Sengoku guiltily averted his gaze, thinking,
"Boiling noodles… That counts as cooking, right?"
Not wanting Zephyr to press further, Sengoku quickly got up and shamelessly declared,
"Alright, if you can cook, that settles it. It's your house, so obviously, you'll be cooking for me."
Zephyr found that reasonable and nodded. He stepped out from behind his desk, walking side by side with Sengoku.
However, just as they exited the office building, a sudden, urgent alarm blared. Both men stopped in their tracks, their gazes snapping toward Marine Headquarters.
Before they could make sense of the situation, a Marine Rear Admiral sprinted toward them. He saluted sharply before reporting,
"Admirals, Fleet Admiral Carl has ordered you both to report to the headquarters immediately for a meeting!"
Zephyr and Sengoku exchanged serious glances.
They had both stepped back from the Marine's power center and rarely attended meetings at headquarters anymore.
For Carl to personally summon them, something monumental must have happened.
But considering the current state of the seas, what could be so significant that it required Carl, the Fleet Admiral, to take it so seriously?
Was this about an operation against the Red-Haired Pirates? That seemed unlikely…
Despite their thoughts, neither wasted a second. They quickly made their way to the headquarters building, where they ran into Tsuru.
After a brief exchange, the three headed toward the conference room together.
Upon entering, Zephyr immediately noticed Carl seated at the head of the table, arms crossed, his expression unusually grim.
Akainu and the others were already present. When Zephyr, Sengoku, and Tsuru entered, they greeted them with nods. Carl, however, simply acknowledged them with a silent nod.
Once the three sat down, the room was filled, yet Carl remained silent.
Finally, unable to hold back, Zephyr asked,
"Carl, what happened?"
The others turned their attention to Carl. Under their gazes, Carl slowly lifted his head and spoke in a low, heavy tone,
"Vice Admiral Garp… has fallen."
The room plunged into an eerie silence.
No one spoke for what felt like an eternity until Sengoku's voice, trembling, broke the stillness.
"Fleet Admiral… What did you just say? Garp… what happened to him?"
Carl took a deep breath and repeated the news.
Sengoku felt a deafening roar in his mind, his vision darkening as he nearly collapsed from his chair.
Even Tsuru, known for her composure, widened her eyes in shock, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. She didn't even notice Sengoku's distress beside her.
Zephyr shot up from his seat, bloodshot eyes filled with disbelief. He opened his mouth to roar in anguish, but no sound came out, his veins bulging from the strain.
Akainu and the others finally snapped out of their shock, their faces painted with utter disbelief.
Sengoku placed his hands on the table, forcing himself to stand, breathing heavily as he demanded,
"How could Garp… Pfft!"
He could no longer hold himself together. A violent cough sent blood splattering from his mouth, staining his white Marine coat crimson.
In a blur of light, Kizaru appeared at Sengoku's side, catching him before he could fall.
Tsuru, suppressing her grief, turned stiffly to Carl, clinging to a fragile shred of hope as she shakily asked,
"When… when did this happen? Is the report reliable? Why haven't we received any word until now?"
Carl sighed, reaching into his coat and placing a report and several photographs in the center of the table.
"It happened just now. The situation unfolded too quickly. I only received the confirmation moments ago. Vice Admiral Garp's body is already en route back. I have already ordered a media blackout."
Tsuru barely heard the rest of Carl's words. Her eyes were fixed on the photographs—Garp, covered in blood, frozen in the midst of throwing a final punch.
A testament that he had fought until his last breath.
"GARP!!!"
Tsuru's grief-stricken wail pierced the room. She, who had not shed tears in decades, now wept openly.
And she was not alone—Sengoku and Zephyr, too, could no longer hold back their sorrow, their tears flowing freely for the fallen hero.
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+210 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg