The Gorosei went still, pupils knifing to pinpoints.
Five secret routes… eight transport ships… all destroyed?
How?
How could Rogers Darren possibly know the Government's hidden lanes?
A mole? Someone feeding him secrets at the worst possible moment?
Their eyes flicked, almost in unison, toward Kong.
Kong lifted both hands in a dry little gesture of surrender. "Excellencies, I manage mobilization and logistics, but I don't hold clearance for the Government's internal routes. Not as the Marines' Fleet Admiral."
He had no idea why he'd made the gesture; he'd only ever seen the youngster Borsalino do something like that. Yet with the elders' faces darkening by the heartbeat, the motion felt strangely natural. His shoulders shook despite himself.
The Gorosei conceded the point. The internal sea lanes were restricted to those with deeper credentials than the Marines. Not Kong.
Then who?
A senior CP operator? A World Noble's confidant?
Damn it.
Their expressions soured further, veins rising in their foreheads.
And now of all times.
Another thought struck them like ice water. If Darren held this much classified knowledge, he hadn't scraped it together overnight. He had been setting the board for a long time.
No—he had been waiting for this day.
"Ahem… Excellencies," Kong said carefully, "if all eight transports across five routes are sunk, then five battleships from the North Blue Fleet are blocking each lane outright. Combined with the warehouses lost in the earlier bombing, every external supply into the Holy Land is severed. Under extreme rationing, food and medical stocks in Mary Geoise will be exhausted in under thirty days."
"Thirty days?" Saint Mars drew a long breath, forced his voice flat, then sneered. "More than enough to find the brat and cut him down."
Saint Nusjuro, silent until then, shook his head, voice rasping. "We don't have thirty days. We may not have five."
Saint Warcury frowned. "Why? Even if those ten capitals are razed, what of it? Insects are insects. They breed back quickly. With sufficient resolve, this posturing poses no real threat."
Nusjuro Izanbalon V. Nas sighed. "Warcury, as the Warrior God of Justice you command CP and the Government's judicial arm, but your grasp of provisions is thin."
He turned to Kong. "Explain 'extreme scenario.'"
Kong hesitated, then: "Wartime standards. Bare-minimum food and care—just enough to keep people from starving."
Warcury's face darkened. That level might be tolerated elsewhere—considered generous in some countries along the Grand Line. For Celestial Dragons, born to absolute privilege, it was unthinkable.
"And under normal standards?" he asked. "Given current stocks, how long can Mary Geoise be sustained?"
Kong glanced at Nusjuro, then answered, slow and heavy. "One day… perhaps less."
A beat; then, troubled: "In the Land of the Gods, nobles have already begun scrambling for food and medicine. Over ten violent clashes erupted between last night and today. Departments are flooding Internal Affairs with urgent requisitions. Consumption is far outrunning our projections."
Silence again. More silence than in the last ten years combined.
"So we have less than a day to eliminate Rogers Darren," Saint Saturn said at last, eyes gone cold. "Or the Holy Land implodes over food and medicine."
Kong swallowed the wryness from his mouth, let it break as a helpless sigh. "I'm afraid that's the reality, Saint Saturn. Darren is far craftier than we gauged. He read our intent, then used a fleet built in mere years to threaten an eight-hundred-year foundation with a single ruthless stroke."
He paused, shifted tone. "There is one piece of good news. While the North Blue Fleet looms over Member States, they've made no immediate move to fire. It suggests the boy still wishes to preserve the current world order—"
"Kong." Saint Warcury's voice cut like a blade. "We have said we will not negotiate. If he thinks to leverage us, he underestimates the Government."
Kong's jaw set. He already knew what would come next.
Warcury swept a hand, eyes glittering. "Fish-Man Island is the breakthrough. Once the Phantom Tiger-led fleet secures Fish-Man Island, that undersea paradise becomes an inexhaustible treasury for Mary Geoise."
"The final gambit will be played on Fish-Man Island!"
To be continued...