At the same time — far from the center of the storm, in a hidden land.Revolutionary Army Headquarters, Baltigo.
Inside a conference chamber carved from cold, white stone, Monkey D. Dragon sat alone at the head of the long table.
He leaned back against the chair, eyes closed. Yet the deep furrow in his brow and the faint tremor in his fingers betrayed how violently unsettled his heart truly was.
The news that had arrived when Ginny was abducted…
Bartholomew Kuma's silence—so heavy it felt as though it carried the sorrow and pleading of the entire world…
Ivankov's agitated, almost desperate tone…
These images and voices haunted Dragon like a waking nightmare, circling endlessly in his mind, gnawing at his nerves day and night.
It wasn't that he didn't want to save her.
Ginny was not only an important Eastern Army commander of the Revolutionary Army—she was also family to Kuma, treasured above all else.
Whether for public duty or personal bonds, Dragon wanted nothing more than to mobilize every last force he had, storm Mariejois, and bring her back by force.
Within headquarters, many radical officers—both privately and openly—had already petitioned him to act.
Even if it meant a direct confrontation with the World Government, they were willing to attempt a rescue.
But…
Dragon clenched his fist in agony.
But that was the World Government.
An enormous machine that had squatted atop the world for eight hundred years.
And worse still—it involved the God's Knights.
What if this was nothing more than a meticulously crafted trap?
A deadly conspiracy using Ginny as bait, meant to wipe out the Revolutionary Army's newly emerging core forces in one decisive stroke?
As the founder and supreme commander of the Revolutionary Army, Dragon did not carry only his own life on his shoulders.
He bore the future of the entire organization.
He bore the hopes of countless comrades who believed in him, who were willing to die for their ideals.
So he couldn't—
He absolutely could not allow personal emotion and impulse to gamble away the very foundation of the Revolutionary Army.
He could not lead them into a battle with vanishing odds—
One that might doom them beyond recovery.
He couldn't afford that gamble.
It was like the classic trolley dilemma made flesh:Crush one person… or crush many.
And the lever was in the hands of Monkey D. Dragon.
So he could only suppress the torment in his heart and offer Kuma, Ivankov, and the other officers that pale, powerless promise:
"I'll find a way."
And yet—what was the result?
More than ten days had passed.
He had locked himself inside this vast, icy conference chamber, telling the outside world that he was devising a comprehensive rescue plan.
But in truth…
He was only delaying.
He shut himself away not because he had a brilliant strategy—but because he was running.
Running from the hope in Kuma's eyes.
Running from Ivankov.
Running from the helplessness and… guilt born of "calculation."
He knew that with every second that passed, Ginny's chances of rescue grew slimmer.
And with every second, the weight of his self-reproach grew heavier.
Yet still—he could not make the decision that might lead the Revolutionary Army to annihilation.
"…Sigh."
A heavy, exhausted, deeply helpless sigh echoed slowly through the empty chamber.
Dragon opened his eyes and stared at the map spread across the table—marked with the Revolutionary Army's current spheres of influence.
His gaze was impossibly complicated.
"They'll understand… won't they…"
...
Elsewhere — on the Grand Line, in a newly liberated nation.
Kuma, who had been forcing himself to drown his anguish in the chaos of battle, had just finished another fight.
He leaned alone against a shattered wall.
Every Revolutionary soldier who passed him now did so with a trace of fear in their eyes.
Because during the liberation battle, Kuma's savagery had shown them another side of him.
Not the gentle priest.
But a… true "Tyrant."
Kuma paid no attention to those gazes.
He remained leaning against the broken wall.
He then reached into his clothes and took out the handkerchief Ginny had given him before her last campaign, preparing to wipe the blood from his hands.
But as he pulled it free—
A small slip of paper fell out with it.
It appeared before his eyes, clenched tightly in his massive hand.
Written on it was Ginny's messy yet playful handwriting:
[Kuma-bear, next time I come back, I'll tell you a secret.But since Kuma-bear is so dumb, I'll give you a hint first—It's "us," you know!]
"Us."
That word struck him like thunder.
In an instant, it shattered the walls of silence and obedience Kuma had built around his heart.
His Ginny—The only warm, blazing sun in his life—
Had not only been abducted.
Their child—
A tiny life formed from all the love and hope they had forged amid suffering—
Was also trapped with her, in danger beyond imagination.
Time seemed to freeze.
The cold stone walls of Mariejois.
His parents' silent tears as they were dragged away.
Self-imposed exile.
Loneliness.
That humble yearning for the legendary Drums of Liberation—Nika…
All the fragments of memory spun wildly, then collapsed in front of those two words.
Freedom?
If he couldn't even protect the people he loved most—Then what meaning did that distant, illusory "freedom" even have?
Waiting for a savior?
Nika might one day liberate the world.
But could he arrive in time to save Ginny… and their child?
Fear was still there.
The mark of the World Government was carved deep into his soul—the shadow of slavery from his childhood.
But this time, something more primal, more violent, rose from that fear.
The rage of a father.
The rage of a husband.
"Us… it's us…" Kuma murmured, his voice hoarse—but no longer trembling.
He had spent his entire life afraid.
Afraid of power.
Afraid of loss.
Afraid of death.
Afraid of these unbreakable chains—so he kept running.
Then—
Kuma suddenly pulled a special, compact Den Den Mushi from his chest.
["If possible, I hope there never comes a day when I need to contact you, Mr. Gern.Because the me right now… is truly, truly happy."]
Those old words echoed in his ears.
And with them—another sentence:
["If one day you lose something truly important…And you are powerless to do anything about it—Use this to contact me."]
"Mr. Gern…" Kuma gripped the Den Den Mushi tightly, a resolve he had never known flooding his enormous body.
"A father will not be afraid."
"A husband will not run away."
In this moment, the chains of slavery were completely torn apart by paternal love and fury.
He was no longer the "Tyrant" who passively endured fate.
He had to become the "Tyrant" who could seize his family's destiny with his own hands.
But before that—
Kuma pressed the Den Den Mushi's activation button.
Not Gern's Den Den Mushi.
Dragon's.
The moment the call connected, Kuma's voice was firmer than it had ever been—tinged with an unmistakable madness—as he growled into it:
"Mr. Dragon."
"It's me. Kuma."
"My wife—and my unborn child—are in the hands of the World Government."
"This is no longer about plans. No longer about waiting."
"I demand an immediate attack."
"Targets: any CP or Celestial Dragon facilities that could possibly be holding them."
"No cost is too great!"
"I need the Revolutionary Army's strength—now!"
"Can you help me?!"
Hearing Kuma's voice, the Den Den Mushi's expression froze.
Clearly, Dragon had not known Ginny was pregnant.
But that shock lasted only an instant.
What followed was silence.
Endless silence.
Seeing this, Kuma smiled.
Then, in the next moment, Dragon's Den Den Mushi was crushed in his massive hand.
He stood up.
In this moment, he made his choice.
Not for atonement.
Not for the future.
But for now.
To reclaim his world.
Immediately after, the sound of dialing rang out once more.
"I am willing to accept any fate, Mr. Gern."
There was none of the agitation he had shown when speaking to Dragon.
Only calm.
Because he knew—
Once this call connected, Gern would help him.
So…
"So please… help me."
...
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