CHAPTER 103: THE WARLORD SUMMONS
With Admiral "White Dragon" standing guard, the chaotic, pirate-infested waters of the New World experienced a sudden, unfamiliar sensation: order. Not peace, but a wary, calculated order. The constant, low-level harassment of Marine patrols dropped to almost zero. The arrogant swagger of upstart pirate crews looking to make a name evaporated. For a full month since the clash with Ember and the standoff with Kaido, an unusual quiet had settled around G-8. The sword of Damocles, forged from Satoru's reputation, hung over the sea lanes, and nobody wanted to test its sharpness.
Satoru hadn't been idle. He led regular patrols, and the occasional pirate crew foolish or desperate enough to cross his path was swiftly and utterly erased, their fate serving as a fresh reminder to others. A palpable tension, a mixture of fear and respect, now defined the "White Dragon's" territory.
Leaning back in his chair, staring at the tranquil blue sky outside his office window, a wave of nostalgia unexpectedly hit Satoru. Windmill Village... He wondered how that noisy, determined little brother of his was doing. Had Luffy gotten any stronger? Was the old Mayor still yelling at everyone? He missed the simple, noisy comfort of Foosha Village.
Maybe it's time for a break, he thought. I've been fighting and training non-stop since I got here. He was just mentally drafting how to ask Fleet Admiral Sengoku for leave when the Den Den Mushi on his desk began to ring with a specific, authoritative pattern.
"Speak of the devil," Satoru muttered, picking up the receiver. "Admiral Satoru speaking."
"Satoru, it's Sengoku." The Fleet Admiral's voice was uncharacteristically heavy, lacking its usual gruff energy.
Hearing that tone, Satoru's hopes for a vacation crumbled. A bad feeling settled in his gut. "Marshal Sengoku. To what do I owe the call? Not more paperwork, I hope."
"No," Sengoku said, cutting straight to the point. "There's a World Government directive. A new system is being implemented, called the 'Seven Warlords of the Sea.'"
Satoru raised an eyebrow behind his blindfold. So it's that time already.
"The basic idea," Sengoku continued, his distaste evident even over the line, "is to select seven powerful pirates, grant them legal immunity and certain privileges, and in exchange, they become weapons we can theoretically point at other pirates. It's a scheme to use monsters to fight monsters."
Satoru could hear the implicit disapproval. Every senior Marine understood the flaw: you could leash a wolf, but its nature remained. It would always be a wolf.
"The plan is moving forward," Satoru stated, more to himself than to Sengoku. The Four Emperors solidified, and now the Warlords. The world's balance was being officially, messily, redrawn.
"Correct. And your first assignment as an Admiral within this new framework is recruitment," Sengoku confirmed. "Two targets, both operating in or near the New World. The first is Donquixote Doflamingo."
"The 'Heavenly Yaksha.' Joker of the underworld," Satoru said flatly. "Naval intelligence places him on Dressrosa. He's made himself a king."
There was a beat of tense silence. The Navy was well aware of Doflamingo's coup. They were also acutely aware of his former status as a Celestial Dragon and the dangerous secrets he likely held. It was that knowledge, and the World Government's inexplicable protectiveness, that had stayed their hand—even when the man had killed Sengoku's own adopted son, Rosinante. Satoru could feel the old, simmering rage in Sengoku's silence.
"That's right," Sengoku finally said, the word clipped and hard.
"And if he refuses the offer?" Satoru asked, his voice deliberately light.
Another, longer pause. Then, four icy, deliberate words came through the snail. "Use your discretion."
A slow, predatory smile spread across Satoru's face. He understood perfectly. "Understood. Who's the second target?"
This time, Sengoku's tone shifted to one of grave seriousness. "The world's greatest swordsman. The man known as 'Hawk-Eyes,' Dracule Mihawk."
Satoru leaned forward, interest genuinely piqued. Mihawk.
"If your intent is to fight him, exercise extreme caution," Sengoku warned. "He possesses strength on par with an Admiral. Akainu once engaged him and could gain no clear advantage. He is also a confirmed user of Conqueror's Haki, and it is highly probable he has mastered infusion."
Sengoku was trying to impart the magnitude of the challenge. A title like "World's Strongest" in any discipline was never given lightly.
"Sakaski couldn't take him down, huh?" Satoru mused, his tone not worried, but analytically curious.
Sengoku sighed, recognizing that his warning had been filed away as data, not deterrence. "In short, be careful. Your primary objective is recruitment. If he agrees readily, all the better. If he does not... do not hesitate to employ force. Sometimes, submission is only earned through demonstrated superiority."
"Don't worry, Marshal," Satoru said, confidence ringing in his voice. "The first one will be a walk in the park. The second... I'll do my best to persuade him."
He wasn't being flippant about Mihawk. The man was Shanks's rival. Even if his overall power was slightly less, the gap would be negligible, a battle of specialists. It was a thrilling prospect.
"Good. I expect a report on your success," Sengoku said, the call clearly winding down.
"Wait!" Satoru interjected quickly.
"What now?"
"After this mission," Satoru said, putting on his most reasonable voice, "I'd like to request some leave. I haven't had a proper break since entering the Naval Academy. I'd like to visit my hometown."
Sengoku grunted on the other end. "Fine. Complete this mission successfully, and I'll authorize one month's leave. Fail, and the request is denied."
"Deal," Satoru said, his smile widening.
The line went dead. Satoru set the receiver down and stretched, his joints popping. He looked out the window again, but now his gaze was focused on the distant horizon, towards the first of his destinations.
"Sorry, Doflamingo. Mihawk," he said to the empty room, the malicious grin returning. "Nothing personal. But you're standing between me and my vacation."
(End of Chapter)
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