"Fufufufu… I truly didn't expect this. The strongest figures of the New World are about to gather in one place." Donquixote Doflamingo let out his signature sinister laugh as he stared at the latest report, the reflection of the newspaper hidden behind his tinted glasses.
Beside him, Trebol shifted uneasily. "Young Master, won't this cause problems for the Nightfall Pirates?"
The concern was not without reason. The Nightfall Pirates were now one of their most important partners, especially since the Donquixote Family had only recently established themselves in the New World.
Compared to the relatively tame seas of the North Blue, the pressure here was on an entirely different level, brutal and unforgiving, where even survival required constant calculation.
Without a stable foundation or long-term foothold, they needed allies, and the Nightfall Pirates were the most reliable support they had.
If something were to happen to them during this Swordsmanship Tournament, it would undoubtedly disrupt Doflamingo's plans.
"fufufufu… don't worry." Doflamingo waved a hand dismissively, his tone relaxed yet confident. "You need to trust our partner. That man won't fall so easily. And even if something truly goes wrong…" His smile widened slightly. "There's nothing we could do about it anyway."
His gaze sharpened behind the lenses. "At most, there will be some minor friction. A full-scale war? The chances are very low."
Three months was not a short period of time. More than enough for him to begin moving the pieces he had prepared.
"Which means…" He slowly spread his arms, as if embracing the world itself. "Our plan can begin ahead of schedule. It's time for Dressrosa to return to the rule of the Donquixote Family."
His eyes locked onto the distant image of the kingdom in his mind, a land that had once belonged to his lineage eight hundred years ago. Though time had reduced it to a declining nation, its population and foundation remained intact. With the right opportunity and proper control, it could quickly rise again.
And Doflamingo had already prepared that opportunity.
A grand performance. A carefully crafted tragedy. The fall of a king and the rise of a savior.
A kingdom would change hands, and the world would applaud.
At the same time, far away at Marine Headquarters, an emergency meeting was already underway.
Inside the conference hall, the highest ranks of the Marines had gathered. At the head of the table sat Sengoku, the Fleet Admiral. Around him were the Admirals, Vice Admirals, senior officers, and key figures such as Tsuru and Monkey D. Garp. Even rising figures like Gion and Tokikake were present.
The atmosphere was serious.
"Tsuru, begin with the intelligence gathered from the World Expo," Sengoku said, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room before settling on her.
Some information had already been obtained through public broadcasts, but that was only surface-level. What truly mattered were the details hidden beneath.
Tsuru gave a slight nod, though her expression carried a hint of regret. "Our movements were heavily restricted. The Nightfall Pirates monitored us constantly, and we were confined to the exhibition areas. The core palace complex, where the major factions gathered, was completely inaccessible."
"Our identities made it impossible to act discreetly. Every step we took was watched."
A wave of disappointment spread through the room, though no one voiced it. The result was expected.
"However…" Tsuru continued, and the tone of the room shifted instantly. "We still managed to gather some useful intelligence during the auction."
She placed a photograph on the table. It showed a young man with silver hair, his eyes slightly narrowed in a fox-like expression, his smile gentle yet unreadable.
"This is Kreeler, a member of the Beast Pirates."
Several officers leaned forward, studying the image carefully.
"He was seated beside a senior executive and showed clear authority. Based on observation, even high-ranking members deferred to him."
Someone frowned. "You mean… he's in charge?"
"On the surface, no," Tsuru replied calmly. "But in reality, yes."
A murmur spread through the room.
"He looks barely eighteen," one Marine muttered in disbelief. "Is he Kaido's illegitimate son?"
The speculation drew a few nods, but Tsuru quickly dismissed it.
"Tokikake used his ability to gather intelligence," she explained.
All eyes turned toward Tokikake, who coughed awkwardly. "Vice Admiral Garp… knocked someone out, and I took the opportunity."
A brief silence followed before several people instinctively glanced at Garp, who simply grinned as if it were nothing.
"Kreeler is a Mythical Zoan user," Tsuru continued.
That single statement caused several officers to stiffen.
"Another one?" someone muttered under their breath.
"Mythical Zoans are supposed to be rarer than Logia," another added, frustration evident in his tone.
"And yet they keep appearing."
Tsuru did not dwell on that point. "More importantly, his role within the Beast Pirates is that of a strategist. Their recent operations can largely be attributed to his planning. In terms of position, he is second only to Kaido."
Now the room truly fell silent.
A young strategist with a Mythical Zoan, controlling the direction of one of the most dangerous pirate crews in the world.
That was not just a threat. It was a future disaster.
"His current strength may not be fully developed," Tsuru added, "but his potential is extremely high."
She then shifted topics, outlining the changes among pirate factions and underground organizations in the New World. The Marines' intelligence network had suffered greatly in recent years, and rebuilding it would take time.
Sengoku listened with a frown. "We've fallen behind."
No one disagreed.
Finally, Tsuru's tone deepened.
"And now… the Nightfall Pirates."
The room grew noticeably heavier.
"And their captain, Marshall D. Teach."
The memory of the broadcasted execution still lingered in everyone's mind. The terrifying display of power, the way a notorious pirate had been erased without resistance, left a lasting impression.
"We underestimated him," Tsuru said bluntly. "His growth rate has exceeded expectations. At most, five years. Possibly less. Another Emperor of the Sea will emerge."
That statement hit like a hammer.
"And when that happens, the Nightfall Pirates may surpass both the Beast Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates, directly challenging the top."
The room was silent.
"Don't forget his ability," Tsuru added.
The Dark-Dark Fruit.
It was not just powerful. It was troublesome in a way that defied conventional combat.
"Understood," Sengoku said after a moment. "Increase vigilance toward the Nightfall Pirates."
The order was recorded immediately.
He then leaned forward slightly. "Now, the Swordsmanship Tournament."
This was the core issue.
"The Four Emperors, Teach, Redfield, Kozuki Oden, and an unknown swordsman. Countless powerful figures gathered in one place." Sengoku frowned. "What should we do?"
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then, suddenly, a loud bang echoed across the table.
"Idiot Sengoku! Why are you overthinking this?" Garp's voice rang out as he slammed his palm down, completely breaking the tension.
"We go too!"
He said it as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"There's no restriction on identity. We have plenty of swordsmen. Are we just going to sit this out?"
He casually picked his nose, completely ignoring the stunned looks around him.
"If it were a fist-fighting tournament, I'd join myself," he added with a grin. "Wouldn't want my punches to get rusty."
Despite his behavior, his words struck a chord.
Gion's hand rested lightly on the hilt of her blade, her thoughts already drifting toward the battlefield of the tournament. Others shared similar expressions.
Miss it?
That was not an option.
Sengoku rubbed his temples, though he could not deny the logic.
After a brief pause, he exhaled. "Fine."
His gaze swept across the room.
"We will participate."
A subtle shift passed through the assembled Marines. Excitement, anticipation, and tension all mixed together.
"This is not just a gathering of pirates," Sengoku continued. "It is an opportunity."
An opportunity to observe.
To measure.
To grow.
"And also," he added quietly, "to remind the world that the Marines are still here."
The decision was made.
The storm was coming.
And this time, the Marines would step directly into it.