New World, G-10 Marine Base, Top-Floor Office
Gern Reginald Sigmar stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, eyes deep and focused as they swept over the meticulously trimmed expanse of lawn surrounding the base.
In his open palm, he held a Den Den Mushi, its antenna twitching as it emitted a low, steady hum.
"So… Tiger ultimately decided to leave Fish-Man Island, huh?" Gern's lips pressed together in a faint line, betraying neither regret nor surprise.
"Yes, Admiral Gern," came the steady, measured voice of King Neptune through the Den Den Mushi. "Tiger insisted that his presence brings an unpredictable risk. He did not wish to fully rely on your protection."
Neptune hesitated briefly, as if weighing how to continue. "And… when he left, several young, hot-headed fish-men from Fish-Man Street voluntarily followed him.
"They seem to—" His words trailed off, but the implication was unmistakable.
Tiger and his followers had departed from the government-aligned Fish-Man Island after committing the unthinkable—assaulting the Holy Land. Their only viable path forward was almost certainly one choice: piracy.
Reporting to a Marine Admiral that someone might become a pirate was… delicate, to say the least.
"No worries, Neptune," Gern said, noticing the hesitation in the king's voice. A faint, knowing smile curved his lips, his tone calm, as if the currents of the world were all laid bare to him.
"Once Tiger decides to leave Fish-Man Island, becoming a pirate is almost inevitable—and it's also the best course for him and his followers.
"At least that way, their future actions will no longer be openly tied to Fish-Man Island or Ryugu Palace. It's safer for all of you."
On the other end, Neptune visibly relaxed. He had worried that Gern might harbor resentment toward Fish-Man Island for Tiger's departure.
Clearly, this Admiral did not operate by ordinary logic.
"Good that you understand," Neptune said, his tone loosening. Then, he shifted to business, detailing recent tax revenue, economic development, and other important matters under the protection of the "Heavenly Calamity" banner.
Gern listened attentively, eyes still fixed on the scene beyond the glass.
On the wide lawn, the usual solitary figure of Dracule "Hawk Eyes" Mihawk was there, as always, polishing his black blade, Yoru, in serene isolation, seeming almost out of place amidst the bustle of a Marine base.
Today, however, he was not alone.
Nearby sat Bartholomew "Bear" Kuma, his massive form basking quietly in the afternoon sun, radiating an unexpected calm. In his hands, he cradled a thick book, eyes lowered, absorbed in reading.
The image was striking—a gentle, studious figure sitting in contrast to the fearsome title of "Tyrant" that often followed him.
"Looks like the whole Revolutionary Army matter still weighs on him…" Gern thought, a subtle stir of curiosity crossing his mind.
As for Kinney, she was likely wandering the base's commercial district or nearby islands with Lipo, Toritoma, and the others—shopping, enjoying the little joys that girls naturally gravitate toward. Especially now, carrying a child, her attention would almost entirely be on her unborn baby, as any mother's instincts would demand.
A faint smile tugged at Gern's lips. Listening to Neptune's report through the Den Den Mushi while watching this rare, serene scene, he felt a profound sense of control—a quiet satisfaction that everything he guarded was unfolding according to his will.
The storm had, for now, subsided. The territory he protected was slowly entering a new phase…
Gern ended the call and casually placed the Den Den Mushi on the desk. Without pause, he left the office, descending the stairs and weaving through the busy corridors of the base until he reached the quiet lawn.
He moved lightly across the grass, approaching the enormous figure of Kuma, seated and absorbed in his book.
Sunlight poured over Kuma's broad shoulders, casting a large shadow across the ground.
Gern did not step around to face him. He stood behind him, a relaxed smile on his lips as he said casually:
"Becoming a father, huh? Congratulations, Bear."
Kuma's broad shoulders tensed slightly at the unexpected voice and the subject. He closed his book and turned his head, startled at first, then softening into a gentle, slightly bashful smile.
News of Kinney's pregnancy had only been shared with Gern after their return to G-10, when she confided in Lipo and the other female members. He had been unaware until now.
"Thank you, Admiral Gern," Kuma replied in his deep, steady voice.
Yet after speaking, a faint shadow of uncertainty flickered across his usually composed face. He lowered his gaze to his massive hands, voice quieter:
"I just… I don't know if someone like me can be a good father."
Gern chuckled softly, sitting down casually on the grass beside Kuma. Without the formality of an Admiral, he patted Kuma's rock-solid arm and spoke with absolute certainty:
"You will. You will be a good father."
He paused briefly, turning slightly to look at Kuma's profile. "Because at your core… you're a genuinely kind, gentle person, Bear."
"Am I?" Kuma murmured, as if Gern's words conflicted with the heavy "Tyrant" label and the burdens of his past, making it hard for him to fully accept.
Gern didn't dwell on that, smoothly shifting the conversation:
"But before worrying whether you'll be a good father… you need to untangle the knots in your own heart first, don't you?"
The words hit Kuma like a thunderclap.
His eyes widened, staring sharply at the relaxed, half-reclined Gern, as if the complexities of his feelings—the Revolutionary Army, Dragon, his "betrayal," his choices—had all been laid bare, leaving nothing hidden.
Gern paid no mind to Kuma's intense stare. He plucked a blade of grass from the ground, held it in his mouth, and reclined fully on the soft lawn, hands behind his head. He gazed up at the rare, pristine blue sky above G-10, voice distant and calm:
"Sudden changes—going from Revolutionary officer to Marine Admiral, and now to an expectant father… it takes time to adjust. That's normal."
He spat out the grass stem, voice sharpening with sincerity:
"So don't bottle it up. Go to the Revolutionary Army when you have the chance. Settle things properly. Whether it's explanation, farewell, or even a fight… there has to be closure.
"Clear the stone from your heart. Only then can you greet your child without burden."
Sunlight caught Gern's face as he spoke, eyes closed, as though discussing nothing more than a simple, everyday matter. Yet his words cut precisely into the deepest, unspoken tensions within Kuma's heart.
Kuma stared at Gern, the calm figure beside him, and unconsciously gripped his thick book, waves of emotion surging inside him.
Gern, noticing Kuma lost in thought, tried to lighten the moment with a teasing tone:
"If it really comes down to a fight, I can recommend a few opponents who—"
"KRAK-CHHH!"
A blinding flash of lightning slashed down like a silver serpent.
When the light cleared, a figure with earlobes dangling to his chest, a Magatama drum on his back, struck a self-assured pose.
It was Enel, having instantaneously descended from the artificial Sky Island above the base.
One hand on his hip, the other flicking his ear with a pinky, he spoke in his nasal, arrogant drawl:
"Hm? I think I hear a mortal praying for my power. Looks like it's time for me to make an appearance!"
Gern didn't even lift an eyelid, his expression a mask of pure disdain. He turned his head, as though even glancing at Enel might pollute his vision.
Enel had expected shock or awe from Gern or Kuma. Instead, all he got was Gern's unvarnished contempt—and Kuma remained absorbed in his book.
His "godly" aura shattered. He slumped, pouting like a child denied candy, pointing at Gern in frustration:
"Hey! What's with that expression, you bastard Gern?!"
He grew more aggrieved, spilling a torrent of grievances:
"Since leaving Sky Island and coming to this so-called 'Blue Sea,' I've been beaten! Constantly! Anyone with a name, anyone with fame—I've lost! Lost! And lost again!"
He beat his chest in anguish. "I just want a chance to show off, to feel what it's like to win! Why is it always me who gets hurt?!"