First, Jack explained the meaning of humility. And with just that single word, many eyes in the crowd lit up in realization. Among them, Chief of Staff Tsuru couldn't help but smile—a genuine smile. It had been a long time since anything had stirred her heart like this.
"Is this… what humility truly means?" Sengoku murmured under his breath. His face seemed to lose a bit of its usual stern luster, for he knew well that he himself hadn't always practiced such humility. Yet, behind his conflicted gaze was a flicker of admiration—because what Jack spoke of made Sengoku feel that perhaps, at long last, the navy was standing at the edge of real change. And for once, it felt like change for the better.
Jack paused, letting the silence stretch and settle. Then he raised his voice again.
"Now, let's talk about honor," he said, his tone firm but inviting.
"Where does honor come from? What does it mean to us? To fight for honor—even if it costs us everything—that is the creed our navy must uphold. The title we wear, the name Marine, was earned by the blood and sacrifice of countless heroes who came before us. That honor is not just ours to claim—it is watched, judged, and recognized by people across the world. And we must never disgrace it."
He let his gaze sweep across the crowd.
"We fight not for ourselves, but for those who believe in us, those who put their hopes in us. Your title as a marine—it's not the end of your journey; it's only the beginning. Every step you take, every action you make, the world is watching. So we must guard our honor—cherish it, protect it, defend it to the death!"
His words struck like lightning. The young sailors couldn't hold back anymore, their voices rising as one in a deafening chant:
"Defend our honor to the death!"
From the platform, Sengoku looked down at Jack—this man who dared to joke even while turning the navy upside down—and then at the feverish, passionate soldiers below. A bitter smile touched his lips.
If I were a few years younger… I might be shouting right alongside them.
Even Aokiji, who until now had watched with casual amusement, found himself growing solemn. The vague, elusive idea of justice they had all clung to—but never quite defined—was suddenly taking clear, powerful shape in Jack's words. And Aokiji knew: once Jack finished explaining these eight virtues, the navy's sense of justice would never be the same again.
A sudden ripple of applause broke out.
"Clap, clap, clap, clap—"
The reporters, who had until then kept their cameras trained on every moment, found themselves lowering their lenses to join in. Whatever secrets and sins the navy carried, it was undeniable: without them, the seas would be far darker, far more dangerous. In this moment, even the press had to admit—the navy deserved this honor.
When the shouts and applause began to quiet, Jack spoke again, his voice lower now, more solemn.
"Marines… do you have the courage to sacrifice? To give something up—be it wealth, comfort, or even your own life—if that's what it takes to protect the many? To serve the greater good?"
A smattering of voices answered:
"Yes!"
"Of course!"
But it was scattered, uncertain.
Jack's gaze sharpened. "Let me tell you a little story—one from when I first joined the navy. In the East Blue, there was a small kingdom. The king was wise and loved his people like his own children. But his younger brother… he was full of ambition and darkness. One day, that brother conspired with corrupt ministers, staged a coup, seized the palace, and imprisoned the king. He spread a lie, claiming pirates had attacked—and the navy believed him. The people believed him. And they welcomed him as the new king."
The crowd fell into a heavy hush.
"But," Jack continued, "a few soldiers—just a small branch of the navy—discovered the truth. Now, they could have looked away. After all, the new king wouldn't dare challenge the navy. But those soldiers didn't. They rallied together, sent out a signal for help… and they attacked the palace."
His voice grew stronger now, the weight of the tale building.
"Why didn't they wait for reinforcements? Because they knew—the old king's life hung by a thread, and every second counted. So they charged in, every last one of them, knowing full well they might die. And when the reinforcements finally arrived… there was only one survivor left—a soldier who had thrown himself in front of the old king. He died right there, but not before saving the king's life."
Jack paused, letting the story settle in their bones.
"That—is sacrifice. To face death with open eyes, and still step forward, because the justice in your heart demands it. And because of their sacrifice, that entire kingdom today honors the navy. Even if you're just a common sailor, when you set foot on their land, they treat you like royalty. That is the honor our predecessors won for us—with their lives."
The silence broke like a dam.
"Honor! Honor! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!"
Now the chant thundered through the ranks—every soldier, every officer, even some hardened vice admirals, shouting as one. Their voices rose so high, it felt as if they could shake the very skies.
From the sidelines, Aokiji watched, half-stunned and half-amused. He muttered to himself, "Am I the Fleet Admiral here, or is he?"
But in his heart, only he knew the deep satisfaction swelling within him.
Nearby, Garp let out a loud, unashamed laugh. He clapped his hands and boasted to anyone who'd listen, "That's my disciple! I taught him everything he knows!"
The skeptical looks from the vice admirals around him made it clear—they didn't believe a word of that claim.
Meanwhile, Sengoku and Tsuru exchanged glances. In their eyes, there was both relief and unease—because they could feel it too. The tide was turning. And once it turned, nothing would ever be quite the same again.
What Sengoku and Tsuru feared wasn't complicated—they worried Jack's brilliance would make him a target. After all, even Jack himself was painfully aware of the navy's deep-rooted problems. How could they, veterans at the highest level, not know? In their youth, their sense of justice had burned bright and pure. But as they climbed the ranks and were exposed to the murky underbelly of power, that flame had dimmed, tainted by compromise and hard truths.
Now, Sengoku couldn't help but wonder— Had he promoted Jack too quickly? After all, Jack had already brushed against the dark dealings that lurked beneath the navy's polished surface.
Among the previous three admirals, each had found their own way to cope. Akainu chose to purge anything he deemed a threat to the navy, no matter the cost. Aokiji, on the other hand, turned a blind eye to what he couldn't stomach—if it wasn't his duty, he'd feign ignorance and retreat behind his lazy facade. Then there was Kizaru, who played the fool, pretending not to care about anything at all while floating above the fray.
As for Sengoku himself, he had long chosen the path of compromise. And somewhere along that winding road, he'd begun to lose pieces of himself—his ideals, his original vision of justice. Whether he'd lost it entirely, even he wasn't sure anymore.
The only one who had never bent was Garp. Stubborn to the core, he outright rejected promotion to admiral to avoid entanglement in the government's dirty games. The World Government couldn't touch him—not with the title of "Hero of the Navy" shielding him. He remained their unshakable symbol, a living monument to the navy's spirit, and they dared not tear him down.
But then… what about Jack?
At first, Sengoku had thought Jack was another Garp—rebellious but ultimately loyal. After all, Jack had openly refused certain assignments more than once. Later, Sengoku wondered if he resembled Aokiji: disapproving but unwilling to challenge the system outright.
But now… now Sengoku realized he'd underestimated this young man. As Jack's vision began to unfold before his eyes, a knot of worry tightened in Sengoku's chest.
It was then that Jack's voice rang out again, cutting through Sengoku's brooding thoughts like a blade.
"There's no question—cowards are not worthy of bearing the proud title of Marine. Bravery is one of our most essential virtues. We must have the courage to confront evil head-on. When the weak cry out for help, we must be the first to answer. We never turn our backs. On the battlefield, bravery means more than charging forward—it's our duty to strike fiercely and win victory for justice. This is our mission. This is bravery!"
The crowd stiffened, spines straightening as Jack's words echoed in their chests.
"And now… let's talk about compassion," Jack continued, his gaze sweeping the assembly.
"Some think compassion and bravery are opposites. I disagree. A marine without compassion is no marine. We must feel for the weak. We must open our hearts and be broad, tolerant, and kind—because it is our sacred mission to wipe out evil and uphold justice. Yes, we serve the World Government. But our true guide, the true standard for every one of our actions, must be justice."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Akainu as he went on, his voice hardening:
"Compassion is what keeps us human. Without it, we're nothing but weapons—soulless tools and executioners for those in power. Yes, we wield great force. Yes, we can destroy. But compassion… compassion is the chain we place on our own hearts. It is the key that ensures we wield our power only in the service of justice."
His words struck like a hammer, shaking the foundation of everything his listeners thought they knew.
In that instant, it was as if scales fell from their eyes. He was right. The 'Absolute Justice' faction of the navy had long abandoned compassion. They showed no mercy—not to their enemies, not even to themselves. In their zeal, they had become exactly as Jack said: weapons, not men.
Even among those who had once looked down on Jack, something shifted. Vice admirals who had dismissed him now watched with reluctant admiration. In the lower ranks, officers and non-commissioned men alike—like Captain T-Bone—felt a fire light up in their chests.
T-Bone, who had always shown kindness to his subordinates, suddenly saw things in a new light. It wasn't just his soldiers who needed his care—the civilians, the ordinary people depending on the navy's shield, were just as deserving. Compassion surged in him so strongly that he wanted to set out at once, to find those in need and protect them.
Even Vice Admiral Momonga, standing stiffly among the ranks, looked at Jack with a complicated expression. Once, when Jack was still a mere rear admiral, they had been close—colleagues who debated ideals over sake. He had known Jack's dreams. But until this very moment, he'd never truly listened.
Now, with Jack's words ringing in his ears, even Momonga felt his long-buried convictions stir.
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