"Is there really no way to stop the Buster Call?"
Dr. Clover asked, clinging to the last shred of hope.
"Ten top-class battleships of the highest tonnage. Five elite Vice Admirals. Over ten thousand elite Marine soldiers."
"Do you think it can be stopped?"
Michael didn't give a direct answer. Instead, he threw the question back at Dr. Clover.
But that rhetorical question was even more despairing than any answer could be.
"But… sigh."
Dr. Clover led everyone out of the Tree of Knowledge.
Lifting his head, he gazed at the towering Tree of Knowledge that blocked out the sky.
Its canopy resembled a sea of green, gently rippling in the wind.
"The entirety of Ohara—no, all the world's precious knowledge—is preserved within this library. And the spirits of us scholars and archaeologists… are all entrusted to this Tree of Knowledge."
Michael couldn't help but click his tongue.
Tch. What the hell's wrong with this old sentimental bookworm?
Death is right around the corner, and he's still talking about spiritual attachment?
He was speechless, sure—but when he looked around at the others, at the odd-looking scholars emerging from the Tree of Knowledge, then glanced at Olvia…
Their eyes all held the same expression.
Even little Robin, who was only eight years old, had that look.
Michael smacked his own forehead.
Great—looks like this 'literary sickness' runs in the whole damn family.
But what could he say?
To these scholars, it was hard to say whether knowledge or life was more important.
Still...
"I said the Buster Call is coming. I didn't say we're completely out of time!"
"And sure, it's hard to part with these books. As physical vessels of knowledge, they are, in many ways, more reliable than your aging, forgetful brains… Time's tight, but can't you just take all the books with you?"
"What I don't get is—why are you so fixated on this tree?"
"Sure, a five-thousand-year-old tree is rare. And yes, its naturally hollow structure is like it was born to house books..."
"But symbolism will never be more valuable than a human life."
Olvia shook her head and looked at Michael.
"You… don't understand."
"Don't understand? Tch, this is exactly what makes you intellectual types so damn annoying."
Michael looked at Olvia and saw the unshakable resolve in her eyes—the kind of resolve that embraces death. He couldn't help but feel frustrated.
"Let me tell you something! This tree? It's worthless!"
"You scholars should focus on ensuring that precious knowledge is passed on in its entirety!"
"To do that, you must survive at all costs!"
"Afraid of dying? You should be! Swallow your pride, grovel if you have to! Whatever it takes—you do it! Anything that hinders your survival and the spread of knowledge must be abandoned!"
"If you're dead, what good is this giant tree? A gravestone?"
Michael's words grew more intense, drawing the attention of every scholar in the Tree of Knowledge. They slowly gathered around him, each with a complicated expression.
Seeing this, Michael sighed inwardly.
Ever since he decided to go rogue, he'd mentally prepared to ignite minds with the spark of revolution and stamp their souls with a brand of steel.
No other way. He was the only transmigrator here. So all strategic direction and ideological leadership? That was on him.
"You want to uncover the truth about the world's history. But have you ever considered—would ordinary people, those crushed by the World Government, the Celestial Dragons, the mafia, and pirates—would they be interested?"
"Only when these ordinary people gain knowledge and shed ignorance will more of them want to seek out this so-called 'truth' you're chasing!"
"When those people become the majority among the common folk, even if the World Government tries to extinguish those sparks..."
"...they'll still ignite a wildfire. That's what you should be aiming for!"
...
All the scholars present fell into stunned silence and deep inner conflict.
When they first heard about the Buster Call, they'd resolved to die with the Tree of Knowledge…
But Michael's words shattered their old framework.
To them, this was an entirely new worldview.
It wasn't that they couldn't understand Michael's logic—it was that their worldview had never allowed for such thinking.
That's what you call…
The limits of their era.
Michael unfurled his wings, and the Holy Light radiated toward the Tree of Knowledge.
"Where the leaves dance, the fire burns on!"
"When the fire of knowledge spreads across the seas, Ohara will no longer be a remote island—it will become the sacred land of knowledge across the entire ocean!"
"You pioneers… will become the Tree of Knowledge in the eyes of future generations!"
...
One day later.
Ten colossal warships shattered the horizon where the sea met the sky, advancing toward Ohara.
At the front, standing on the flagship's deck, was Vice Admiral Sakazuki—"Akainu."
The sea wind whipped around him as he stood there with a wide grin, puffing on a large cigar and exhaling thick clouds of smoke, clearly enjoying himself.
Honestly, judging by looks alone, he didn't seem like a Marine at all—more like a boss from some underworld crime syndicate!
He calmly gazed at the island of Ohara growing larger in the distance.
Although it was his first time carrying out a Buster Call, to him, it was no different from a regular pirate extermination mission.
Just kill, then return in triumph.
But the man standing behind him was far from calm—fidgeting like a monkey.
"Sakazuki! I'm going to take CP9's agents ashore to investigate Ohara! We need to retrieve and hand over all the knowledge those scholars possess to the World Government! You lot just wait here. Once we finish the investigation, then you can open fire and wipe this evil island off the map completely!"
The speaker was none other than the infamous "clown" from the original story—Spandine.
His urgency stemmed from his personal ambition: he hoped to capture Olvia with his own hands and use her as a bargaining chip for favor with the Celestial Dragons and the World Government.
"Hmph!" Sakazuki gave him a sideways glance but didn't respond at all.
That single snort made Spandine's blood boil.
He'd said all that—and Sakazuki just snorted?
He was the one who authorized the Buster Call! Why the hell wasn't he the one giving orders?
Damn Marines!
Of course, he only ranted this way internally.
After all, Sakazuki had a fearsome reputation—merciless to the point of harming civilians and even comrades without hesitation. And on top of that, he was… a Logia-type Devil Fruit user.
"Vice Admiral Sakazuki! We'll be within firing range in three minutes!"
Sakazuki gave a nod. After taking a deep drag from his cigar...
He exhaled a thick cloud of second-hand smoke right over Spandine's head.
"By orders of Admiral Sengoku—three minutes from now, all ships will commence saturation bombardment of Ohara!"
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