Chapter 91: The Five Elders' Balancing Strategy!
These final words were not just a tactical directive; they were a declaration of helplessness. They were the official admission that the absolute Justice of the Marines had hit a wall it could not break. It was a concession that against the Suzaku Pirates, ordinary numbers and standard tactics were meaningless—fuel for the fire that would only serve to increase the casualty count.
The Den Den Mushi clicked off. The connection to the world was severed, but the weight in the room remained.
Garp slumped back onto the sofa, the leather creaking under his dense muscle mass. He stared at the ceiling, his usual boisterous energy completely drained. His fists, resting on his knees, were clenched so tightly that the veins stood out like cords of steel. For a man who had chased the Pirate King across the oceans, issuing an order to run was a bitterness he couldn't swallow.
Across from him, Admiral Kizaru slowly wiped the last smudge of soot from his face with a handkerchief. He adjusted his cracked sunglasses, returning to his usual apathetic, lazy demeanor. But his leg bounced nervously—a tiny, subconscious betrayal of his composure.
"Scary..." Kizaru murmured, though this time, the verbal tic lacked its usual sarcasm.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood by the wall, his back to them. He stared intently at the enormous map of the New World pinned there. His eyes traced the territories of Whitebeard, Kaido, Big Mom, and Shanks.
And now, he mentally carved a new territory into that map. A mobile territory of destruction.
He knew that the era of balance was over. An era of chaos and terror, belonging to the Suzaku Pirates, had already begun.
[Sabaody Archipelago - Grove 13 - The Lawless Zone]
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, casting long, dusty shadows across the floorboards.
Ding-a-ling.
The old wind chime on the door let out a crisp sound, echoing in the quiet bar.
Shakky stood behind the counter, smoking a cigarette. She didn't even bother to turn around. Just by hearing the familiar, slightly heavier-than-usual footsteps, she knew exactly who had returned.
"Welcome back," she said, exhaling a thin plume of smoke.
She skillfully picked up a bottle of cherished vintage rum—Rayleigh's favorite—from the top shelf. She poured a glass, the amber liquid swirling and releasing a rich aroma that filled the air.
"Finished watching the excitement?" Shakky turned, leaning her elbows on the counter. "You smelly old man! You were gone for quite a while. Did you get caught up in the fighting?"
Her voice carried a hint of teasing, expecting a witty retort or a complaint about his back pain.
However, Rayleigh's expected composed response did not come.
Silvers Rayleigh walked to the stool and sat down heavily. He stared at the glass for a second, then grabbed it.
Gulp. Gulp. Slam.
With a loud noise, a glass of fine wine that should have been savored sip by sip was downed by him in a single go.
"Burp."
Because he drank too quickly, the legendary Right Hand of the Pirate King let out an uncharacteristic, embarrassed burp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and immediately shoved the glass forward.
"Hit me again, Shakky."
Shakky paused. Her attractive eyebrows raised slightly.
She knew this man too well. He was the Dark King. He was unflappable. Ordinarily, he would nurse a glass like this all afternoon, treating it like liquid gold. Guzzling it like water? Especially when drinking alone?
This could only mean one thing.
His mood had shifted. Something had shaken him.
"It seems this time... the excitement was extraordinary," Shakky noted. She picked up the bottle and refilled his glass to the brim.
A look of sharp inquiry entered her eyes. "The last time I saw you drink like that was when Roger..."
"Shakky," Rayleigh interrupted her, his voice low and filled with barely suppressed astonishment. "You must have felt the commotion from the neighboring island just now. The ground was shaking here in Grove 13."
"Of course," Shakky nodded, lighting a new cigarette. "That commotion was significant. Although it was very faint by the time the shockwaves reached here, the quality of that power... the spiritual pressure... is not something ordinary pirates could generate. It felt like the sky was falling."
She looked at him. "What is it? Does it involve that young man named Suzaku who was here earlier?"
"More than just involved."
Rayleigh shook his head with a wry smile. He picked up the second glass and drained it just as quickly as the first. It was as if only strong liquor could calm the turmoil in his heart.
"I saw it..." Rayleigh whispered. "That brat... he directly confronted that old bastard Garp."
He looked Shakky in the eye.
"He clashed with Garp's Haki head-on. And he didn't lose."
"Oh?" Shakky's eyes widened.
"And Kizaru was there too," Rayleigh added.
Shakky's hand, which was holding her cigarette, paused mid-air. Ash fell unnoticed onto the counter.
"Garp... and Kizaru?"
The laziness instantly vanished from her face, replaced by the sharp, dangerous expression of a former pirate Empress.
"The combination of the Marine Hero and an Admiral... that is a Buster Call in human form. Was that young man finally captured? What a pity. He had such great potential. I liked his face."
Rayleigh let out a long breath.
"No."
He slowly raised a finger and shook it side to side. His expression was extremely complicated—a mix of pride, fear, and disbelief.
"You have it completely backward, Shakky."
He leaned in.
"Kizaru... led Garp in a retreat. They ran."
"..."
This time, a long, heavy silence fell over the bar. The wind chime outside tinkled softly, sounding incredibly loud in the quiet room.
Shakky stared at Rayleigh. She took a deep drag of her cigarette, the cherry glowing bright orange, and slowly exhaled the smoke through her nose.
"...Continue," she said softly.
"Ulquiorra," Rayleigh said the name carefully. "The one who became famous a few days ago for turning Enies Lobby upside down. The one with the billion-berry bounty."
"Yes, the 'Wing of Disaster'."
"He is also a subordinate of that brat Suzaku," Rayleigh's voice was very low, as if he were telling a fairy tale that shouldn't be real. "I saw him kneel. I saw him obey."
Shakky's pupils suddenly contracted to pinpoints.
Her mind, sharp as a tack, instantly pieced all the information together. The newspaper reports. The rumors. The battle today.
"Wait..." Shakky murmured. "Ulquiorra is his man. Which means the Giants of Elbaf—Dorry and Brogy—are also his people? In other words, the Giant Warrior Pirates are now a division under his command?"
Her voice rose in disbelief.
"A newcomer pirate crew... possessing its own Giant Division? Possessing a billion-berry subordinate?"
"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would think it was a joke too," Rayleigh leaned back against the bar, staring at the ceiling.
"A newcomer pirate crew that hasn't even entered the New World yet... not counting the giants... just among its core executives, there are at least three monsters."
He counted on his fingers.
"Ulquiorra. The woman named Albedo who blocked Kizaru's lasers like they were rain. And Suzaku himself."
Rayleigh met Shakky's gaze. Both saw the same shock reflected in the other's eyes.
"Three monsters possessing strength comparable to the Yonko and Admirals... in one crew."
"The tranquility of the sea," Rayleigh said slowly, word by word, "has been completely overturned today."
Shakky looked out the window at the clear, cloudless sky. She shivered.
"A group of monsters more powerful than any Yonko crew... and younger? It reminds me of the old stories."
She whispered the name that terrified the world forty years ago.
"Has another Rocks Pirates appeared?"
"Maybe," Rayleigh mused. "Or maybe something even worse. When they enter the New World... that sea where all manner of demons dance... it will be thrown into utter turmoil. The Emperors won't sit still."
[Red Line - Marijoa - Pangaea Castle]
High above the clouds, far removed from the dirt and grime of the world below, lay the center of the world.
The Chamber of Authority.
This was the sanctum where the Five Elders (Gorosei) resided.
There was no superfluous decoration here. The room was vast, cold, and oppressive. It contained only five chairs and five ancient figures who seemed to be one with time itself.
The air was cold and deathly silent, as if it were a different dimension from the noisy, chaotic world outside.
"Everyone has read the Marine's emergency report."
The bald Elder, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, spoke first. He wore a white gi and polished his glasses, a Kitetsu sword resting by his side. His voice was as flat as if he were reading an inconsequential weather forecast.
"Refusing the Shichibukai summons. Slaughtering Marine fleets. Humiliating an Admiral. Captain Suzaku Yareon, along with his subordinates Ulquiorra and Albedo, have all been assessed to possess Yonko-level strength."
"Troublesome," the blond Elder, Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, added. "Previously, there was also the record of ignoring the World Government's deterrent. He publicly executed a Tenryuubito in East Blue. He has no respect for the Gods."
"Hmph."
The Elder with the long white mustache, Saint Topman Warcury, scoffed. His voice was filled with condescending disdain.
"They are merely ants with slightly greater power. Haven't we seen enough of these so-called 'strong individuals' on this sea over the past eight hundred years? Rocks. Roger. Xebec. They all rise, make noise, and eventually die."
"Indeed," the Elder with the long handlebar mustache, Saint Marcus Mars, took over. He tapped his knee lightly with a finger.
"What is truly important is always Balance."
He looked at the report detailing the loss of five Vice Admirals.
"The Marine's losses are irrelevant," Mars said coldly. "Sengoku is panicking over pawns. As long as their high-level fighting forces—the Admirals—remain, the obedient tool is still sharp. As for the soldiers... the one thing the sea never lacks is expendable resources. Humans breed quickly. They can be replenished at any time."
There was not a shred of reverence for life in his words; it was as if he were discussing stray dogs on the side of the road.
"However, we cannot ignore the disruption," Nusjuro said, sheathing his sword slightly. "In that case, let us proceed according to Sengoku's request."
He looked around the room.
"We shall elevate the 'Suzaku Pirates' to a threat level equivalent to the Yonko. We shall mark them as an 'Extreme Evil Force'."
"Agreed," the other Elders nodded.
"But," Nusjuro added, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Only in terms of 'threat level.' We will not mobilize the Holy Knights or CP0 just yet."
"Why?" Ju Peter asked.
"They are, after all, just a group of pirates," Warcury sneered. "They are not revolutionaries. They do not seek to liberate the world; they seek freedom. That makes them predictable."
"The Marine is our useful dog," Mars said. "It is still very important as a tool, and there is no need to overly deplete it against this group. If Garp and Kizaru couldn't stop them, sending more Marines is a waste of budget."
"Let them enter the New World smoothly!"
The last Elder, wearing a flat hat and holding a cane, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, finally spoke, delivering the final conclusion. His voice was ancient, raspy, and cold, sounding as if it came from the Void Century itself.
"The New World is a stagnant pond," Saturn said. "Those 'Yonko'—Whitebeard, Kaido, Big Mom, Shanks—have been comfortable for too long. They have carved up the sea and stopped fighting each other."
He smiled, a twisted expression.
"It is time to throw in a sufficiently hard stone and see how big a splash it can create."
"Suzaku is a wolf," Saturn concluded. "We will let the wolf into the sheepfold of the Emperors."
"A new big fish to tear at the existing bloated big fish. Their mutual depletion... is the 'Balance' we are pleased to witness!"
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