Marine Headquarters.
"Whoosh—"
A massive, iconic dog-headed warship slowly docked at the port.
From the deck, a burly, mountain-like old man with a broad chest and bulging muscles swaggered down without a care.
It was none other than Garp.
A vicious scar stretched across his left eye, his short gray hair was messy, and he was noisily crunching on rice crackers, crumbs scattering everywhere.
"What the hell is Sengoku up to this time?!"
Garp scratched the back of his head as he mumbled with his mouth full, bits of cracker tumbling down unnoticed.
He had been having the time of his life at the Paradise, chasing down a few clueless rookie pirates in a game of cat and mouse when suddenly…
A "Fleet Admiral's Highest Priority Order" had smacked him in the face, forcing him to return to headquarters immediately!
That wasn't like Sengoku at all...
Ever since taking the position of Fleet Admiral, Sengoku had become annoyingly cautious—constantly worrying about "the bigger picture" and "influence," acting like some timid little housewife.
But today?
What the hell had gotten into him?
Did he take the wrong medicine or something?
Then again...
This frantic, no-nonsense urgency reminded Garp more of how Sengoku used to be back when he was still an Admiral.
...
"Garp-san…"
A lazy yet familiar voice drifted in from nearby.
"Hmm?"
Garp paused mid-bite, turning his head.
Leaning casually against a wall was a tall man with messy black curls and a perpetually laid-back expression.
"Kuzan?!"
"Weren't you supposed to be on a mission in the New World?"
Garp's eyes widened in surprise. He stuffed the last of his rice crackers into his mouth and asked bluntly,
"Don't tell me that old fart Sengoku dragged you back too?"
"Ma~ yeah."
Kuzan slowly straightened his back, hands shoved into his pockets, answering in his usual languid tone.
"Halfway through my assignment, I got the Fleet Admiral's urgent order. Said it was top priority."
"So I came right back."
His voice still carried the same lazy drawl as always.
But…
Garp frowned slightly as he carefully looked his top disciple over.
Something was off.
Something was… very off.
Kuzan didn't seem quite as aimless as before.
His posture was still relaxed enough to suggest he might fall asleep standing, and his tone hadn't changed, but the deep-rooted confusion and lethargy he once carried seemed to have lessened.
Garp could feel it clearly—there was a fire inside Kuzan, one that had long been frozen over, but now… it felt like it was starting to burn again.
There was a new steadiness to him.
A quiet determination.
...
What the hell had happened at headquarters while he was away?
"Kuzan, you brat…"
Garp stepped closer, peering into Kuzan's face like a nosy uncle.
"You hiding something from me? You seem a hell of a lot more spirited than before!"
"Ma~ Garp-san, you're overthinking it."
Kuzan scratched his head awkwardly.
"I just… ran into an interesting boy. He taught me a thing or two. Cleared my head a bit."
"Huh???"
Garp's mind immediately filled with question marks.
A boy?
What kind of boy could possibly "teach a lesson" to a Marine Admiral?
...
Before Garp could press further—"Whoosh—"
A massive warship of the highest Marine Headquarters specifications sliced through the waves, slowly approaching the dock.
"Sengoku, you old bastard, what the hell—!!!"
Garp was just about to roar when his eyes landed on the figure standing at the bow of the ship.
And he immediately shut up.
"..."
At the front of the ship stood Sengoku, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable, gazing silently into the distance like an ancient statue.
As Garp's comrade of several decades, he knew this state all too well.
This silence meant one thing:
Something huge had happened—something capable of shaking the entire Marine structure to its core!
...
Beside Sengoku, Vice Admiral Tsuru stood equally silent, her gray-streaked hair rippling in the sea breeze.
Just as the warship neared the dock, her sharp eyes gleamed for a brief instant.
A near-invisible wave of Observation Haki spread out from her like a fine net, covering the entire dock.
The half-warehouse worth of gold stored in the ship's hold needed to be transferred discreetly.
And not a soul could find out.
She had to keep watch, every second.
Sengoku turned his head slightly, glancing at her.
Tsuru gave a faint nod.
"Leave it to me."
"Hmm."
Sengoku's gaze shifted forward again as the ship finally docked. Without a word, he descended the gangplank.
He didn't so much as glance at Garp or Kuzan and strode directly toward the Marine Headquarters' main building.
"..."
Garp and Kuzan exchanged a silent look before following him.
Tsuru watched the three men leave, then turned slightly and waved her hand.
"Move everything in the hold to Warehouse No. 0. Keep it secret."
Behind her, several trusted soldiers immediately got to work, hauling out enormous, tightly wrapped crates covered with thick canvas, moving them swiftly and silently.
...
Marine Headquarters — Main Building.
Inside the high command conference room, the air was tense and heavy.
"..."
Akainu sat upright, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp, chiseled face betraying no emotion.
Kizaru sat slouched in his chair, one leg lazily crossed over the other, rhythmically tapping his knee with a finger as though bored out of his mind.
Across the long conference table sat an older man with short purple hair, wearing dark sunglasses. His right arm had been replaced with a massive mechanical crusher.
Zephyr.
The Marines' Chief Instructor, former Admiral, and famously known as "Black Arm" Zephyr.
Although he'd been busy with new recruit training lately, his position as Chief Instructor meant that his students were scattered throughout nearly every division of the Marines.
And he'd heard plenty of whispers about the recent turbulence in headquarters.
A Commodore, recently promoted from an East Blue branch to become the commanding officer of the G-3 Branch — Rayne Hawke.
And it seemed this man had stirred up quite the storm within Marine Headquarters.
"..."
Zephyr's sunglasses hid his gaze, but it briefly swept across Sakazuki's face.
As the man who'd personally trained the three Admirals, he understood his students' personalities better than anyone.
He had also read Sakazuki's field report from his investigation in East Blue.
The details themselves didn't concern him too much.
But Sakazuki wasn't the type to promote someone lightly.
If Rayne Hawke had been elevated so rapidly, then it meant this newcomer possessed value so immense that even Sakazuki couldn't ignore it.
...
But what truly caught Zephyr's attention wasn't Hawke himself—it was the performance of the soldiers stationed at East Blue's 16th Branch.
In that report, Sakazuki had briefly, almost tersely, noted one remarkable detail:
Hawke's soldiers maintained perfect discipline under Admiral-level pressure.
They didn't panic.
They didn't retreat.
Instead, they held formation and responded in an orderly, controlled manner.
That wasn't something achieved through strict training alone.
That required absolute belief.
Absolute discipline.
And unwavering faith.
It was something Zephyr had spent his entire life trying to instill in the Marines… and yet had never fully succeeded in achieving.
So… how had this kid, Rayne Hawke, managed to do it?
...
Bang!
The conference room doors burst open.
Sengoku strode in with long, powerful steps, Garp and Kuzan following close behind.
Everyone in the room immediately stood.
Sengoku walked straight to the head seat, his sharp gaze sweeping across the high-ranking officers assembled.
"Everyone is here."
His voice was deep and heavy.
"The reason I summoned you all today… is to announce a highest-priority resolution that will decide the future of the Marines!"