The second half of the Grand Line—the New World, G-10 Marine Base. Dawn had just begun to paint the horizon, and the morning fog still clung to the waters like a thin veil.
Gilded Tizoro set down his pen after finishing a carefully written letter:
To my beloved wife, Stella—May these words reach you as if I were beside you:It's been nearly two years since I was assigned to the New World G-10 Base under Admiral Gern, tasked with holding the Whitebeard Pirates at bay.During this time, I often think of you and our daughter. She must be starting to speak by now, yes? Every thought of her fills me with both warmth and guilt.I am not by your side; all the burdens fall on you alone. Forgive me for that. But do not worry over my safety. With Barrett now serving under Admiral Gern, the pressure on the front has eased somewhat, and I can catch brief moments of respite.Once the situation here stabilizes, I shall submit a formal request to return to Marineford, hoping to embrace both of you with my own hands very soon.—Yours, ever devoted, Gilded Tizoro
He gently blew on the paper to dry the ink, folded it with care, and tucked it into an envelope. Only then did he lift his gaze to the sky, a wash of gray-blue painted by the morning light, and feel a tidal wave of longing for his wife and child.
Rising, he pushed open the window and drew in a deep, bracing breath. "Another day begins."
Clatter! The sudden noise startled a seagull resting on a nearby rock outside.
The bird flapped its wings in protest, squawking indignantly before taking to the increasingly bright sky. From its aerial perspective, the base spread out below: the vast G-10 training grounds stretching like a miniature battlefield.
Barrett stood at the center, shirtless, his skin flushed a deep crimson as steam rose from his massive frame. His muscles knotted and flexed like cast iron, a sculpted blend of raw power.
He wasn't using his Devil Fruit—this was pure physical training.
Straining under a custom barbell that far exceeded ordinary weights, he performed deep squats. Each rise and fall came with a grunt of effort and the metallic screech of chains stretching, a primal symphony of sheer strength.
The seagull flapped higher, passing over the base's main building, where a strange, floating artificial cloud—stabilized by Vegapunk's technology—hovered midair. Atop it rested a small structure.
And perched at its edge was Enel, visibly annoyed, legs crossed, holding a small mirror in one hand. The other hand attempted to tame his unruly golden curls while muttering under his breath:
"Damn humidity in the Blue Sea…"
The curious seagull drifted closer, the breeze from its wings teasing a loose curl.
"Ugh! Annoying pest!" Enel's brow furrowed. Without even looking at it, he flicked his fingers, sending a sharp, crackling blue spark toward the bird.
"Caw!" The seagull screamed, twisting in midair to narrowly avoid the tiny lightning bolt, a few feathers singed and curled black. Terrified, it abandoned the floating cloud and landed atop the central command tower, calming its rapid heartbeat.
Below the tower, the base commander's room offered a stark contrast to the chaos outside.
There, Gern lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping soundly, his breaths steady, even tinged with a faint snore.
Next to him…
The Snake Princess, Toritoma, coiled like a graceful yet possessive serpent. Her enviably long, flawless legs were wrapped possessively around a small, furry "object."
"Gern, you're so soft~"
"So soft… and such a big carrot~"
Lipo, in a loose carrot-patterned pajama set, blushed as she was held like a life-sized body pillow, her floppy rabbit ears drooping. She even leaned her head into Toritoma's chest, apparently accustomed to this odd morning ritual, and immediately resumed her nap with a serene contentment.
For a moment, the two women had unconsciously left Gern to his own devices, forming a bizarre yet oddly harmonious sleeping tableau.
Outside, the seagull tilted its head, perhaps unable to comprehend human complexities, then adjusted its scorched feathers, placed a freshly delivered newspaper from its bundle in a prominent spot, and departed for good.
At the officers' mess, Gern sat at the head of the table, hot cocoa in hand. A freshly printed edition of World Economic News lay before him, alongside the latest Marine intelligence reports. His eyes flicked across the headlines—mundane as ever—and he raised an eyebrow.
The Marine report, however, drew his attention:
["'Beast' Kaido decisively defeats 'Invincible' Kozuki Oden! Wano's Shogunate Overthrown; Heroes Suffer the Boiling Punishment!"]
The files described in detail how Kaido had bested the legendary samurai in open combat, executing the cruel boiling pot death penalty, ending Oden's life as the people of Wano looked on in despair.
"Tch." Gern scoffed, tossing the document aside and taking a sip of cocoa. "Clown."
Was his scorn for Kaido's dishonorable tactics… or for Oden's seemingly invincible fate? Perhaps both.
Across the table, Barrett nonchalantly gnawed a massive meat bone, effortlessly tearing off a huge chunk. Upon hearing Gern's cold laugh, he glanced at the discarded file.
"Never thought someone like Kozuki Oden would end up in the hands of someone like Kaido," he muttered, his approval directed at Oden's strength, not his fate.
Enel, sitting nearby, burst into arrogant laughter, small arcs of electricity dancing across his fingers.
"So the so-called 'Invincible' is… this pathetic? Can't even handle a horned lizard! Ridiculous!"
He raised his chin in habitual defiance, using his golden staff to point at a crispy fruit tart in front of Barrett. Commanding tone in place, he said, "Hey, bring that to me."
Barrett didn't even blink. He ignored Enel entirely, instead delicately picking up a small carrot-decorated tart, far too small compared to his massive hand. He carefully delivered it to Lipo, who sat swinging her legs on his broad, rock-like shoulder.
"Wow!" Lipo's eyes lit up. Her furry rabbit ears twitched with delight as she took the tart. "Thank you, Uncle Barrett!" She nibbled happily, her cheeks quickly ballooning.
Enel, utterly ignored, felt a vein pop on his forehead as electricity crackled along his hair.
"You bastard…" he spat.
Quick as lightning, Tizoro restrained the enraged Enel, lowering his voice urgently.
"Now's not the time. If you act, your record of consecutive losses to Barrett will hit nine hundred ninety-nine!"
"Nine hundred ninety-nine…" The words struck like a dagger. Enel's face drained of color as he recalled countless humiliating defeats, each time crushed by Barrett's pure physicality and presence. Frustrated, he turned his back to the table, hugging his arms, as if that could somehow preserve the dignity of a god.
Gern chuckled quietly at the scene, taking in the tableau without interference, and lifted his cocoa for another sip, savoring the warmth as the New World morning unfolded around him.