After the brief bout of banter, the easy atmosphere gradually faded. Dracule Mihawk returned to his usual cold composure and turned his gaze toward Gern.
His tone grew more formal as he delivered his final assessment of Issho's strength.
"Setting aside the matter of whether his swordsmanship is pure or not… in terms of overall combat power—hm. He barely qualifies for Admiral-level strength."
After all, this had only been a corrective evaluation, not a life-or-death duel. Mihawk had no intention of forcing Issho to reveal every hidden card.
But from what he had shown—the mastery of the Gravity-Gravity Fruit and the solid foundation of a great swordsman—he already possessed more than enough raw power to serve as a Marine Admiral.
After all, this was a man who casually summoned meteors for practice. Who knew whether he could one day drag down a planet for the sake of a biological extinction event?
Of course, compared to veterans like Gern and the other long-standing Admirals, Issho still fell a little short. Not weak—but not quite on that level either.
Gern, however, understood Issho—Fujitora—better than most. Not just his strength, but the justice he carried within his heart.
And right now, confirming his power wasn't the most important thing.
What Gern needed… was to PUA him.
He had to make Issho willingly stay and shoulder the burden of being the "working Admiral."
No helping it. Reality demanded it.
Kuzan had left—ideological differences, pursuing his own path.
As for Borsalino? Heh. That man was a seasoned master of slacking off. If he could lie down, he'd never stand. Expecting him to voluntarily take on extra duties was about as likely as expecting the Celestial Dragons to suddenly grow a conscience.
Sakazuki was diligent—if extreme—but Gern had already "exiled" him to G-2, where he was tasked with intimidating and purging pirates in the first half of the Grand Line. The New World couldn't rely on him.
Which meant that Marine Headquarters—especially here, at the epicenter of power and storms in the New World—urgently needed someone who could work, who possessed both strength and authority, and who upheld genuine justice.
This person had to get things done. Had to carry responsibility. Had to not slack off.
At the same time, they needed human warmth and compassion—someone capable of tempering the Marines' historically harsh treatment of civilians.
Someone who, when facing the Celestial Dragons, would have the courage to defy unreasonable orders and uphold principles. A smaller Gern in temperament.
Most importantly of all—
They needed someone whose justice could withstand trial by fire.
Issho was tailor-made for this role.
If Gern could anchor him here, he himself would be freed from endless routine paperwork and administrative decisions—free to focus on strategy…
Or simply go enjoy the thrill of battle.
At that thought, Gern's gaze toward Issho grew noticeably more "kind and approachable."
He cleared his throat.
And began his grand technique.
(Officially titled: Explaining the Current State and Future Vision of the Marines While Inviting Like-Minded Individuals to Share the Burden.)
"Issho." Gern's voice turned steady as he stepped forward, placing both hands on Issho's shoulders, meeting him with sincere intensity—even if Issho could not see it.
"You heard Mihawk's evaluation.
Your strength is beyond question. You are fully capable of bearing heavy responsibility."
"But!" His tone shifted, gaining weight and candor. "You must also know that the Marines are in a critical period of transformation.
Headquarters has relocated to the New World. We now stand face-to-face with the Four Emperors. The pressure has never been greater.
Internally, we've undergone changes. High-end combat power—especially commanders capable of holding down a region, handling complex affairs, and maintaining unwavering conviction—there are… vacancies."
He did not explicitly mention Kuzan's departure or Borsalino's indolence. The implication was clear enough.
"The New World is not Paradise—the first half of the Grand Line. Here, pirate forces are deeply entrenched. The situation is extraordinarily complex.
We face not only powerful enemies—but countless civilians struggling to survive in the cracks."
"The Marines must change!" Gern's voice rose.
"We need harsher methods to strike down evil—but we also need a warmer justice to protect those ordinary people who cannot protect themselves!
We need someone who can temper any extremism or coldness that might arise within our ranks!"
"To be honest, you may not believe this—but I've looked into your ideals. 'Benevolent justice.'"
"Huh? When did he ever look into that?"
Not far away, Zephyr stared thoughtfully at the file board in his hands—the one Gern had never even glanced at.
Gern continued without missing a beat.
"Frankly speaking, in today's Marine ranks, that voice is exceptionally rare.
What we need are not mere killing machines who execute orders without question.
We need someone like you—someone with immense power who understands what that power is for. Someone who understands compassion and restraint. A true guardian."
"So—!" Gern finally revealed the dagger behind the map.
"Issho, the New World needs you. The Marines need you. The civilians who long for peace need you even more!"
"I, Gern Reginald Sigmar, in my capacity as Supreme Commander of the Marines in the New World, formally invite you—
To join the Marines, and to directly assume the position of Marine Admiral! Stationed permanently at New World Headquarters!"
"Here, you can truly practice your 'benevolence.'
Use your strength and your ideals to influence—to change—this most chaotic and most desperate sea for order and light!"
It was a flawless speech.
Grand yet heartfelt. It highlighted the Marines' predicament (we can't do this without you), elevated Issho's ideals (only you are suitable), and offered an irresistible platform (the rank of Admiral, the stage of the New World).
Gern stared at him intensely.
Internally chanting:
Say yes. Say yes. You absolutely have to pick up this shift for me.
After listening to Gern's invitation—and his vivid depiction of the future—Issho fell into brief silence.
His blind white eyes seemed to gaze forward, but in truth, he was using Observation Haki to carefully sense the emotions behind Gern's words.
Though he could not read minds, he could distinguish sincerity from falsehood.
And in this moment—
There was no deception.
He could feel the weight in Gern's voice when speaking of the Marines' current struggles. The concern over gaps in high-end combat power. The clear-eyed understanding of the New World's complexity.
More importantly, he felt that Gern's praise for "warm justice," for protecting ordinary people, for the ideal of benevolence—
Was genuine.
This man, known across the seas as "Heaven-Shaker" for his overwhelming might, truly understood—and acknowledged—the path Issho walked.
But what moved Issho most was not merely those words.
Through Gern's speech, combined with his own travels and observations, Issho had confirmed a truth:
Gern—the future leader of the Marines—understood.
He understood what true justice was.
Not just crushing pirates with force—but sheltering the weak and helpless.
He understood the suffering of civilians. He understood the desperation of those from non-affiliated nations abandoned by the World Government, struggling in the chaos of the New World.
At that thought, the corners of Issho's usually firm mouth lifted slightly into a smile that came from the heart.
"Lord Gern… to be honest…"
"I have long wished to meet you."
"Oh?" Gern raised a brow.
Issho began recounting, his voice tinged with memory.
"Years ago, you entered this most chaotic sea alone and established the G-10 base.
At first, like many who read the newspapers, I believed you were merely collecting 'protection fees' from non-affiliated nations and islands in a different form—just as the World Government does—maintaining surface order while ignoring their deeper suffering."
"But after traveling…" His tone grew solemn. "I realized… you did not."
"You made the nations and islands that raised the Calamity flag understand what responsibility truly means."
"In this pirate-infested, law-of-the-jungle New World… in those abandoned corners forsaken by the World Government…
Wherever the 'Calamity' flag flies—
The people there can truly live and work in peace, largely free from pirate harassment, living relatively happy and stable lives."
"That is why I responded to the World Military Draft and came to participate in this so-called evaluation.
One of the most important reasons… was to seize this opportunity to see for myself—no, to personally experience—and to work with you."
He bowed slightly toward Gern.
There were no grand vows. No thirst for power.
Only shared conviction. A yearning to protect the weak.
Issho's answer was clear—and unwavering.
He did not pledge himself to authority.
He pledged himself to responsibility.
"Not being able to see… is, in some ways, a blessing. For this world contains far too many despicable sights unfit for the eyes.
And yet… today, I find myself regretting this so-called blessing.
I regret that I cannot truly behold your face."
It was the highest tribute one practitioner of benevolent justice could offer another.
Hearing these words, the faint levity on Gern's face disappeared.
He stepped forward silently and grasped Issho's shoulders, steadying him upright from his slight bow.
"The World Government is not a god."
"From the moment I assumed the position of Supreme Commander of the Marines in the New World… and truly took control of our direction…"
"The Marines will belong only to the people."
With that, Gern removed the white Justice cloak from his own shoulders—the symbol of the highest Marine authority and responsibility.
He spread it open with both hands—
—and solemnly draped it over Issho's shoulders.
The white fabric bearing the word Justice settled upon him.
"From this day forward!"
"You will bear this justice!"
"The justice you uphold—benevolent justice—will be carried out by your own hands for the rest of your life!"
"Welcome to the Marines…" Gern paused, then spoke the codename already prepared.
"Marine Admiral—"
"Fujitora Issho!"
..
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