Chapter 4 – Prelude to the War at Marineford
[Jotaro Kujo: …You can call me JOJO. @Borsalino, could you lend a hand when the time comes? Whatever you want as payment, I can arrange it.]
Given Jotaro Kujo's usual personality, he would never ask a stranger for help—
even if the enemy were someone as dangerous as Dio Brando.
But this time, his mother's life was on the line.
If he wanted to completely sever the curse at its root, Dio Brando had to die.
Although in the third part uploaded to the group chat Jotaro eventually defeated Dio,
why not make things more secure if he had the chance?
[Borsalino: Ah, of course. After all, I am a Marine who bears the name of Justice.
As for the reward… I'll just take whatever spoils of war are left.]
[Jotaro Kujo: Deal! When can you come?]
[Borsalino: Once you reach Egypt, post the mission in the group.
I'll swing by when the time's right.]
Meanwhile, in the world of pirates—
Borsalino yawned lazily during yet another Marine HQ meeting, clearly spacing out.
He glanced sideways at Nami, who sat a few seats away, scribbling furiously in her notes.
A glimmer of amusement crossed his face.
The idea of crossing into JOJO's world, hunting down Dio,
and stringing that self-proclaimed vampire up for a beating sounded far more entertaining
than chasing petty pirates for a few bounty credits.
Money was dull.
Adventure, now that was worth getting up for.
[Orochimaru: @Borsalino. Fufufu~ Yellow Monkey-kun,
when you capture this Dio Brando, before you destroy him completely,
could you leave behind a portion of his flesh and tissue for me?
I will, of course, provide suitable compensation.]
[Borsalino: Fine by me. Just have the payment ready.]
He wasn't worried that Orochimaru wouldn't make good on his promise.
Even without knowing which version of Orochimaru this was,
as long as it wasn't his "child form," the man would surely have plenty of intriguing goods to trade.
And even if he didn't, Borsalino could always collect his reward later—
preferably after the snake had gotten his hands on something valuable.
[Random Bystander Trying to Hug Protagonist's Thigh: Perfect!
With Admiral Borsalino helping, there's no way Dio can escape!]
[Haibara Ai: You're that confident?]
[Bystander: Let me put it this way—
if Yellow Monkey decided to visit your world,
he could turn Tokyo into rubble in the time it takes you to finish your afternoon tea.]
[Haibara Ai: You make him sound like one of those alien monsters from Kamen Rider.]
[Bystander: Honestly, compared to Borsalino, those monsters are small fry.]
What followed was a wave of flattery directed at the "almighty Admiral."
Borsalino hadn't even said much, yet his reputation within the chat
kept inflating like a hot-air balloon.
Of course, that "bystander" wasn't praising him out of pure admiration.
In his mind, the higher he lifted Borsalino's prestige,
the harder it would be for the admiral to ignore him later.
If danger struck, surely the great Yellow Monkey wouldn't just watch him die, right?
Even in a world like Swallowed Star,
where late-stage combat power reached godlike levels,
Borsalino's light-speed abilities were enough to dominate the early stages.
Getting on his good side meant survival—plain and simple.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the real Borsalino.
Had it been the genuine article, maybe the admiral would've helped out of pride or principle.
But this one?
He wasn't so easily swayed.
While Borsalino juggled his group chat banter and Marine duties,
the meeting at Marine Headquarters was finally getting serious.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku," a vice admiral seated near Aokiji spoke up,
"is it truly wise to risk war with the Whitebeard Pirates…
all for the sake of that one man—Portgas D. Ace?"
Not every Marine shared Akainu's fanatical zeal for absolute justice.
Some, even among the h
igher ranks, questioned whether such a decision
was worth the blood it would surely cost.
Even within the Marine Headquarters, the very organization that flies the banner of "Justice," opinions were far from united.
Depending on their stance toward pirates, the Marines were broadly divided into two factions — the Hawks and the Doves.
The Hawk faction held an extreme position: pirates were irredeemable scum, and the only way to ensure peace was through absolute eradication. Even if civilians were caught in the crossfire, that was a price worth paying for true justice.
The Dove faction, on the other hand, believed the Marines' true duty was to protect civilians and uphold justice, not to wage reckless wars. To endanger innocent lives in pursuit of pirates, they argued, was irresponsible and unjust.
Their two ideological figureheads were Admiral Akainu and Admiral Aokiji, respectively —
while those who refused to align with either camp, the so-called Neutral faction, informally rallied around Admiral Kizaru.
Privately — or, more accurately, whenever Nami was around — Borsalino liked to call his own faction the "Slack-Off faction."
The vice admiral who had just spoken up belonged to the Doves. He wasn't against fighting pirates, not at all —
but in his eyes, provoking a full-scale war with the Whitebeard Pirates just to execute Portgas D. Ace was anything but rational.
If the Whitebeard Pirates retaliated across the New World, could the Navy really withstand that level of revenge?
And even if the local branches held firm, what guarantee was there that the other pirate crews wouldn't take advantage of the chaos to stir up trouble of their own?
"...That is precisely what I intend to explain next."
Fleet Admiral Sengoku drew in a long breath.
Even after more than ten years, just saying that man's name made his voice unconsciously tighten with gravity.
"The true name of the Whitebeard Pirates' Second Division Captain, Fire Fist Ace…
is Gol D. Ace! He is the son of the Pirate King — Gol D. Roger!
The blood of sin flows through his veins!"
The words struck the conference room like a thunderclap.
The once-silent hall erupted in shock and uproar.
Even Akainu and Aokiji—who prided themselves on composure—couldn't mask their surprise.
Gol D. Roger.
Even after a decade, the name alone carried a weight few dared to speak aloud.
He was the man who had ignited the Great Pirate Era —
a figure of both awe and taboo within Marine history.
And now Sengoku was declaring that Portgas D. Ace, the current right-hand of Whitebeard, was Roger's own son.
The implications were staggering.
Whitebeard, once Roger's rival and sometimes ally… and now his son's protector?
The connections drew themselves.
"Gol D. Roger, huh…"
Borsalino exhaled lightly, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his face.
So, Vice Admiral Garp's secret — hidden for so many years — was finally out.
"Um, Admiral Borsalino…"
A soft, cautious voice broke through the murmurs.
Nami leaned closer, eyes gleaming like twin golden coins.
"You think this Fire Fist Ace… might know where the Pirate King's treasure is hidden?"
"Ah—well…" Borsalino's lips twitched slightly. "I doubt it."
Still, he made a mental note to keep a close eye on this greedy little cat.
If she ever caught the faintest scent of treasure, there was no telling what kind of chaos she might unleash.