Two days later.
Donzik Island.
In the span of just forty-eight hours, the island had returned to its previous state—as if nothing had ever happened. Life went on. If not for the shattered harbor, the scorched stone, and the lingering smell of gunpowder, one might have thought it was all just a dream.
The islanders had no time to dwell on it.
In this world, survival itself was a full-time struggle.
Whether it was due to the Navy's deliberate cover-up or some unspoken agreement behind the scenes, news of the incident never reached the broader sea. Not a single ripple stirred across the Grand Line.
Only those who had been there knew the truth of Germa's involvement.
But Germa remained Germa—still a sanctioned member of the World Government.
Yuno hadn't found a single report in the papers. That alone told him enough. Judge had moved in secret, smoothing things over with either favors or force.
No doubt a price had been paid, but that was none of Yuno's concern.
At this stage, he didn't need Germa's power for anything. When the time came, they would answer his summons.
For now, there was something far more important to consider:
Joining the Navy.
Yuno had always considered it—not only because the Navy was the most powerful organization in the world, but because it stood, at least on paper, for justice.
And for someone like Yuno, who considered himself… well, not exactly a "good guy," but someone with principles, it was the ideal home.
"Villain?" Yuno muttered to himself, smirking. "Absolutely not."
More importantly, the Navy had the most comprehensive training system in the world. No meandering detours, no wasted effort. For someone in desperate need of rapid physical growth, it was the perfect path.
Because all his current life-saving methods came from the system.
And while the system was powerful, Yuno felt uneasy relying on it blindly. If it ever malfunctioned—or worse, disappeared—what would he do?
Just wait to die?
That caution was what drove his next decision. If he wanted to thrive regardless of the system, he had to learn this world's power structure from the inside.
He needed to build a foundation—one rooted in real strength, not borrowed power.
And so, joining the Navy was no longer just an option.
It was a necessity.
But first—he had to solve a problem.
While he had used various disguises during his earlier activities, there was no guarantee someone couldn't track him down. Devil Fruits could be unpredictable. Observation Haki, even worse.
But now, he had a solution: the clone.
The alternate body changed everything.
His only concern was whether his original identity—a supposed refugee—would trigger any flags. If he were just a commoner, that was fine. But if that name was tied to anything shady…
It could spell disaster.
After weighing the risks, Yuno made up his mind.
He would join the Navy.
Not immediately. Not until everything from the Donzik incident had thoroughly settled.
Fortunately, his clone had already taken the first step that morning—disguised and boarding a merchant ship that was headed out to sea.
Yuno had two goals for this operation:
First, to have the clone publicly act as the mysterious "Quincy" again—drawing attention and suspicion away from his true self. He wanted a clean break between the myth and the man.
Second, to test something even more important: could he "farm" achievement titles through his clone's actions?
After all, both bodies could access the system panel.
If they acted independently, could they both earn rewards at once?
Donzik Island was no longer viable for that purpose—he was too strong. The soldiers on the island wouldn't provide any worthwhile gains. Unless he attacked a Navy base, rewards would be minimal.
That was why he had sent the clone out to sea.
P-5 Branch Base.
A meeting room under heavy surveillance. Thick walls. Sealed doors.
Rear Admiral Bastiu, wearing his signature black iron mask, sat at the head of the long table, arms crossed.
At his side sat Lieutenant Commander Yara, the base's current overseer. His fingers nervously tapped against the table.
Looking at the masked man, Yara lowered his voice and asked hesitantly,
"Captain… the rumors on Donzik are spiraling out of control. If we don't handle this properly, it's going to spread."
Bastiu didn't respond.
Yara swallowed and added, "Isn't this… bad for morale?"
He, too, had heard the rumors spreading among the islanders. And even though he was a man of thick skin, a flicker of discomfort crossed Yara's face when he heard the praises showered upon the Navy.
If it had truly been the Navy who repelled Germa's forces, then the recognition would've been deserved.
But the truth was far different from the fantasies circulating among the civilians—and Yara knew it. A quiet guilt gnawed at his conscience.
His sense of justice couldn't accept such a lie.
Bastiu, standing beside him, turned with a stern gaze and said, "Commander Yara, never forget—our Navy stands for justice. And justice is absolute. As long as the result favors the Navy… the process is irrelevant."
Yara frowned slightly. "But… isn't that dangerous thinking?"
Bastiu stepped closer, voice low and intense. "And what, exactly, is wrong with it?" he asked pointedly.
"This… this…" Yara hesitated. The contradiction in his heart swelled, but he couldn't articulate it. "That masked man..."
Before he could finish, Bastiu interrupted sharply.
"I've heard you mention him before," Bastiu said. "And I've looked into him. With the strength he's shown, he's no local. He's likely returned from the Grand Line."
The room quieted. Yara and the other officers fell silent.
Bastiu continued, "Anyone who hides their identity behind a mask is a potential threat. Even if he's not our enemy now, who's to say he won't be tomorrow? You must understand that, Colonel Yara."
Yara clenched his fists at the subtle demotion in tone, sensing Bastiu's bias. But Bastiu outranked him—Yara had no authority to resist.
"…Understood, sir."
Bastiu gave a thin smile. "You'll understand better in time, Lieutenant Colonel Yara."
The meeting dragged on long into the day, weighed down by implication and bureaucracy.
More than ten days later—
Major General Bastiu, having earned his merit through the Germa incident, departed for the Grand Line.
The islanders had already moved on from the affair. Time and waves waited for no one.
New headlines from the World Economic Journal stirred the seas once again:
[The Seven Warlords of the Sea see new blood: the sixth seat goes to the fish-man, "Seaman" Jinbe!]
[The New World trembles—will the Navy finally make its move?]
[Whitebeard and Kaido clash again—the two titans refuse to fall!]
[Red-Haired Shanks confronts Big Mom! A three-day, three-night battle rocks Totto Land—no victor declared!]
[Beasts vs. Red-Hair! The seas boil with uncertainty!]
Yuno, of course, had kept a close eye on the waves of history unfolding.
The Seven Warlords were still forming. The Four Emperors were yet unnamed.
But from these fragments of chaos, a timeline could be pieced together:
An era of violent transition.
A world on fire.
A sea ruled not by order—but by strength.
Nearly a decade had passed since the era of pirates began.
The New World was still fragmented…
But the world was beginning to narrow its gaze.
Four names. Four monsters. Four Emperors—soon to come.