Jango led his team back to base.
As for the hyenas who'd been lurking nearby—waiting to take advantage of Tesoro's injury and finish him off—the moment they saw Marines, they scattered like roaches.
They couldn't help it.
Right now, Marine Base 62 on Sabaody Archipelago had a terrifying reputation.
Nobody wanted to be the next example.
Back at the base, Jango gave his report to Kuro.
"He got away?"
Jango nodded.
"Yeah. There was an underground passage. By the time we followed it out, he was already far offshore.
"Even with Moonwalk, we couldn't say for sure we'd catch him. Unless someone could fly."
He glanced up at Kuro.
Talking to Kuro like this no longer felt strange. Not after months under Arakaki Jin's command.
Kuro pushed his glasses up with a clawed finger and nodded.
"Then let it go," he said. "The guy's not stupid. Running was the smartest move.
"But he messed with someone he shouldn't have. Go rest."
"Got it," Jango said, and left.
Kuro stayed behind, buried under paperwork.
It was endless.
Jin didn't touch admin work at all. He dumped everything on Kuro.
Ain? She trained. Fought. Occasionally helped when the stack got too high.
Jango pulled his weight but had his hands full drilling the troops.
As for Ryder—yeah, forget it.
The old man had deliberately pulled back from their inner circle.
Kuro had quietly shuffled him into logistics and left him there to cool.
Time rolled on.
Before anyone realized it, another month had passed.
Then a newspaper hit the world—
And the New World exploded.
The headline screamed:
"Shock! Whitebeard Pirates' 6th Division Captain Dies Mysteriously – All Fingers Point to the World Government!"
On the front page, a photo stood out.
Blamenco lay collapsed on the ground.
Standing near his body were three figures in suits, white masks covering their faces.
The article dug even deeper.
"Could this be the World Government trying to light a civil war between the Three Emperors? After all, many officers from all three sides have 'mysteriously' died over the past months…"
Underneath, Morgans listed name after name.
Time. Place. Cause of death.
"Witnesses."
"Testimonies."
He shoved everything—rumors, speculation, scraps of truth and outright fiction—onto the World Government's shoulders.
Once he sent the paper out, Morgans climbed into his hot air balloon and vanished with his crew.
In Pangaea Castle, one of the Five Elders—Saint Shepherd Ju Peter—smashed his palm down, reducing the newspaper on the table to confetti.
"That bastard Morgans," he snarled. "We must find a chance to kill him."
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn shook his head.
"How?" he said. "That man has hideouts all over the world. We've sent how many CP agents after him already? Not a single success."
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro slid his demon blade partway out of its sheath.
"This isn't the time to talk about that bird," he said coldly. "Whitebeard is already furious."
Saint Marcus Mars added, "CP reports movement from the Beasts Pirates and Big Mom Pirates as well."
Saint Topman Warcury scowled.
"A troublesome season," he muttered. "Have we identified who actually did it?"
"No," Nusjuro said. "The framing was… clean. Very clean."
Saturn pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Then should we order the Marines to press down on them with full force?"
"We cannot," Mars said, sHaking his head. "Right now there are countless forces on the sea who want the Marines and the Three Emperors to go to war.
"They're all waiting for an opening."
Peter's brows knitted.
"Then what do we do? Send people to 'explain'?" he said. "It might work with one Emperor, but these incidents have happened on all three territories."
Nusjuro snorted.
"They don't deserve an explanation from us. A bunch of lowborn scum."
Warcury tapped the table with a thick finger.
"Then send someone to negotiate?"
"The other two are manageable," Saturn said slowly. "Most of their dead were small fry.
"The trouble is that the one who died this time was Whitebeard's son.
"You all know Whitebeard's personality."
He exhaled.
"Have the Marines send Garp, Kuzan, and Sakazuki to the New World bases.
"Let them handle things as they see fit."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
Four voices answered as one.
Marineford, Marine HQ.
Sengoku slammed the order sheet on his desk and swore.
"Those bastards," he growled. "They pull their little games and now we have to clean up.
"What do they take the Marines for?
"That's Whitebeard we're talking about. The strongest man in the world.
"Not to mention the other two."
He vented for a while.
Then, because he had no choice, he ordered Garp, Aokiji, and Akainu—just back from hunting Red-Haired Shanks through the East Blue—to head for the New World.
But he kept one thought to himself.
He only sent those three to reinforce the base nearest the Red Line.
The Marine strongholds deeper in the New World?
Sengoku quietly decided to abandon them.
It wasn't that he didn't want to hold them.
It was that if he sent reinforcements now, all three Emperors would band together.
Against the Marines.
A saying had spread through the New World:
"We can kill each other all we want.
But if the Marines stretch their hand in too far—
We'll cut that hand off."
That was what really frustrated Sengoku.
He could only grit his teeth and swallow it.
Something else popped into his mind.
He turned to Tsuru at his side.
"Arakaki Jin still isn't back?" he demanded. "How long has he been gone—months now. Not even looking at his base!"
Tsuru sighed and handed him a photograph.
"This was taken by Marine personnel near the New World entrance," she said. "Thunder God Island."
Sengoku looked at the photo.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
A golden dragon, wings spread, roared inside a forest of lightning bolts.
"Combining this with the golden wings he's shown before," Tsuru continued, "we can say with confidence that golden dragon is him."
Kizaru leaned over to look.
"Oooh, so scary~" he drawled. "The youngsters these days… is he taking a bath in lightning?"
Sengoku exploded again.
"Even then, he should at least report it to HQ!" he shouted. "If other Marines start copying him, what will we look like?"
"Still," Kizaru mused, "I'm really jealous of White-kun's fruit. A Mythical Zoan Yinglong… so terrifying. Bathing in lightning—how frightful~"
Listening to his oily tone, Sengoku felt something in his brain throb.
He'd gotten used to Kizaru's style over the years.
Didn't mean he liked it.
"Shut up, Borsalino," he snapped. "Your Glint-Glint Fruit is also a top-tier Logia, in case you forgot.
"Maybe train your body for once instead of lazing around?"
Kizaru lifted his hands in mock surrender, that same sleazy smile on his face.
"So strict, Sengoku-san. Just like teacher Zephyr~"
"Get out," Sengoku roared.
Kizaru dissolved into motes of light and vanished from the couch.
Sengoku glared at the empty air for a moment, then turned back to Tsuru.
"What is that kid trying to do?" he muttered.
Tsuru rubbed her temples.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "We pushed him out of the power center. He didn't complain.
"Is he short on money? That auction house of his nets him around a billion Berries a month in profit shares.
"Does he want rank? The World Government tried to hand him high posts more than once. He refused all of them."
"And look at his people.
"Ain? We don't even need to talk about her. Both Armament and Observation fully trained, already at Swordmaster level. She's on par with our standard Vice Admirals.
"Kuro, an Ancient Zoan—Demon Flower Mantis. Dual Haki and a terrifying fruit ability. Close to elite Vice Admiral level.
"Jango, also an Ancient Zoan: Saber-Toothed Tiger. A monster of a body.
"And every one of them is fanatically loyal. No signs of betrayal.
"We tried to poach them," she admitted. "HQ approached Kuro and Jango.
"It didn't work."
Sengoku raked his hair with both hands.
"So what does he want?"
A man who wanted nothing.
Who rejected titles and money, but kept getting stronger.
That was the kind of person who scared him most.
No leash.
No shackles.
Just raw power.
And his fruit…
Flying.
Wind.
Fire.
And if Tsuru's photo was accurate—lightning now, too.
Meanwhile, Sengoku's own Mythical Zoan didn't do any of that.
The more he thought about it, the worse his headache got.
He wasn't afraid Jin would lose a fight.
He was afraid that one day, Arakaki Jin—White Ghost, Walker of Black Justice—would decide to do something truly insane.
And no one would be able to stop him.
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