Listening to Sengoku, Jake's face showed a thoughtful expression.
But just as he was about to say more, Sengoku's voice came through again.
"Vergo's records are completely fabricated, with many glaring contradictions. He claimed his hometown was the small town of Olustee in the South Blue, but that town is actually in the East Blue and disappeared seventeen years ago during a catastrophic disaster in the Grand Line."
"Furthermore, the name 'Vergo,' along with his travel logs and various reports, are all filled with lies and half-hearted excuses. Despite such obvious flaws, our Marine branch offices failed to notice anything amiss about him—even selecting him as an outstanding recruit! This infuriates me beyond measure!"
"Jake, it seems our cleanup operation needs to expand. Add those utterly incompetent fools who lack even a shred of diligence to the list. After your report, I immediately questioned the staff in the records department and asked them right then—which sea was Olustee located in?"
At this point, Sengoku's voice carried a hint of laughter, but Jake knew exactly what it meant.
It wasn't a happy laugh—it was the kind born from sheer fury.
"At the time, I asked those guys if they knew where the town of Olustee was located. Do you know how they answered me? Do you know how these so-called outstanding talents selected through rigorous assessments responded?"
"They told me! They'd never heard of this town! Some said it was in the North Blue! Others claimed it was in the South Blue! Or the West Blue! Not a single one got it right. Even if they were guessing, they couldn't have four people giving four different answers, with one insisting Olustee was on the Grand Line!"
"All the islands along the seven navigational routes of the Grand Line—if I recall correctly—should be the most basic questions on the written exam for graduating Marines, shouldn't they? I even had you all draw out the entire navigational routes back then!"
As Sengoku spoke, he couldn't help but cough twice.
Jake also heard the dull thud of a fist slamming against the desk.
"You ordinary Marine graduates knew these things. Your daily training already took up most of your time. If you hadn't known, I wouldn't have been so angry. But those people are different! They're desk workers who don't need training! They're members of the Information Department responsible for reviewing materials!"
"They should have been the most knowledgeable about these locations within the entire Marine organization. Yet now, they know nothing! So who the hell put these useless idiots in those positions?! I will get to the bottom of this! I'll investigate thoroughly! Those damn bastards have corrupted and infiltrated the Marines to the point where it's as full of holes as a sieve—disgusting!"
Heavy breathing came through the phone, and Jake found himself at a loss for words.
He knew Sengoku's temperament well.
There were two reasons for his fury.
First, the absurdity of those people's behavior was outrageous enough on its own—more than enough to make Sengoku's blood boil.
Second, the root of Sengoku's anger was that this matter involved Rosinante.
Rosinante was still deep undercover within the Donquixote Family.
Every day, Sengoku would repeatedly remind Rosinante to stay safe.
Yet in the end, the biggest threat to Rosinante's safety came from their own side—and for such a ridiculous reason.
If Jake hadn't uncovered Vergo's true identity, it wouldn't have been long before Vergo might have discovered Rosinante's real role.
Given Vergo's abilities and talents, his entry into the elite training camp was only a matter of time.
Rosinante had been among the top graduates of the elite training camp in previous years.
Although his photos had been sealed after he went undercover, many still recognized him because of his past association with Sengoku.
All Vergo would have needed was a little careful investigation to uncover Rosinante's identity, leading to the undercover agent's brutal torture and death while trapped in enemy territory.
At this thought, Sengoku felt a chill run through his entire body.
He had almost—just almost—caused the death of the foster son he cherished as his own!
He had nearly let that child, so full of justice, die in such a place due to his own negligence and incompetence!
At this moment, Sengoku felt as though he could barely hold back his tears.
Unlike Garp, he had no family of his own.
He had devoted almost his entire life to the Marines, and his one and only concern was the foster son he had picked up in the snow all those years ago.
Rosinante was more outstanding than him, possessing a sense of justice purer and kinder than anyone else's.
If such a child had truly died in that place, Sengoku would never have forgiven himself.
It was precisely for this reason that Sengoku's gratitude toward Jake deepened even further.
After composing himself slightly, he said to Jake.
"Your report on the spies has been of immense merit, Jake. Not only did you successfully save Rosinante's life, but you also saved the lives of most of our Marines carrying out undercover missions.
From the time I took over the Intelligence Division and began the investigation until now, we've uncovered roughly seventy spies.
Most of them come from the World Government, while quite a few are from the Underground Black Market. Of course, there are also some from Pirate crews, though very few—not all Pirates have the need or the guts for such things."
Listening to Sengoku's now somewhat calmer voice, Jake smiled and replied.
"It was my duty, Fleet Admiral Sengoku. There's no need for such courtesy. However, there are some matters I'd like to seek your guidance on."
"Go ahead, Jake. As long as it's nothing too unreasonable, we'll handle it for you here."
"Thank you for your kindness. But what I mainly wanted to discuss is the issue of the nobility in Flevance. If Flevance regains its vitality, will those people return to continue their rule?"