The West Blue.
Sunlight shimmered across the sea as Gern stepped from the water and back onto the deck of a Marine warship.
"Ensign Gern!"
The moment he landed, the Marines on deck straightened in unison and snapped to attention, saluting crisply.
Their eyes held a mix of awe and reverence.
"Good work, everyone."
Gern casually tossed Hawk's corpse toward a nearby deckhand.
The unfortunate sailor fumbled to catch it—and the instant he saw the twisted face with the gold tooth, he sucked in a sharp breath.
"T-This is… 'Gold Tooth' Hawk?! The pirate worth twenty-three million Beli who's been all over the papers lately?!"
The deck erupted into commotion.
After all, this wasn't the era after Roger ignited the Great Pirate Age.
In the Four Blues, a pirate with a bounty exceeding twenty million Beli was already a genuine menace.
"No wonder they call him the 'Pirate Hunter'! This is the sixteenth one this year, isn't it?"
"I heard he was only fourteen when he made sergeant last year, and now he's been promoted straight to ensign…"
Amid the whispering, Gern calmly removed his bloodstained white gloves.
The soldiers' fervor no longer surprised him.
Over the past year, the West Blue branches—desperate to salvage their rotten reputation—had deliberately molded him into a symbol: a "Marine supernova."
A Logia-type Devil Fruit user, single-handedly wiping out pirate crews—
That kind of image was more than enough to inspire blind worship among rank-and-file soldiers.
"…Still not enough," Gern muttered, glancing at Hawk's corpse.
A pirate like this might be considered impressive in the Four Blues, but in the New World?
He wouldn't even qualify to scrub a deck.
"I need a bigger achievement…"
"Ensign!"
A Marine jogged over and handed him a stack of documents.
"These are the newspaper briefings you asked me to tidy."
"Thanks."
Gern nodded with a faint smile. The Marine shook his head excitedly, as if serving Gern—the "Star of the West Blue"—was the highlight of his career.
Large-scale conflicts erupt again in the New World
'Whitebeard' Edward Newgate sinks three government warships—'Golden Lion' Shiki occupies six islands…
Gern scanned the headlines, his eyes passing over dense columns of casualty figures.
The remnants of Rocks' era were spreading like wildfire.
That man was dead, yet the monsters who once served under him hadn't vanished.
Instead, they carved out their own domains, plunging the New World into chaos.
Meanwhile, Marine Headquarters was stretched thin, scrambling to contain these true overlords of the seas.
"I can't afford to waste time anymore…"
Gern clenched the documents, faint vibration ripples seeping between his fingers.
"Ensign?"
A communications officer approached cautiously.
"Branch Commander Asahi said… the information you wanted has arrived."
"It has?"
Gern's eyes sharpened.
"Then it won't be long before I can move up to Headquarters."
"W-What? Ensign Gern, you're planning to—"
"The pirates of the West Blue aren't enough anymore."
He lifted his gaze toward the distant horizon.
"If I want to keep up with the tide of the era… I have to go where the storm is."
The Marines aboard the ship swallowed hard.
That was Marine Headquarters.
Even an officer three ranks lower from HQ held more weight than any branch officer in the Four Blues.
Gern said nothing more. Slinging Eight Desolations across his back, he turned and headed into the cabin.
…
The sunset dyed the harbor of West Blue Branch 133 in deep crimson.
Sea winds carried the sharp scent of salt as Gern's warship slowly docked, its hull thudding softly against the pier.
New Marine recruits were already lined up, standing straight with barely contained excitement.
Their "Pirate Hunter" Ensign Gern had returned victorious—again.
At the very front stood a slightly overweight man with a face full of smiles, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
Branch Commander Asahi.
A year ago, he'd been hoping Gern would die as a reckless fool so he could pocket the compensation money.
Now, he was practically bowing like a servant welcoming a distinguished guest.
"Ensign Gern! You've worked so hard!"
Asahi's voice was an octave higher than usual, fawning to the point of discomfort.
He hurried forward, the flesh on his face wobbling with each step from a year of indulgence.
"I've already had hot water and meals prepared for you. Please rest first!
Leave the dirty work to the others!"
Gern descended the gangplank at an unhurried pace, the bandage-wrapped black blade slung across his back.
"You're still a branch commander, at least," he said dryly, glancing at Asahi.
Ever since Gern had publicly revealed his Heavenly Tremor Fruit abilities a year ago, this man's attitude had flipped completely.
"Ah! These recruits all joined because of you!"
Asahi laughed obsequiously.
"As branch commander, I have to satisfy their curiosity, don't I?"
"No need for all this," Gern replied calmly. He neither accepted nor rejected the flattery.
"I'm just doing my job."
"Oh, come now!"
Asahi rubbed his hands, grinning wider.
"Do you know how terrified West Blue pirates are when they hear the name 'Gern'?
Our branch's reputation survives solely because of you!"
As he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the deck.
Several Marines were carrying a corpse down the gangplank.
Gold teeth glinted faintly at the corner of the dead man's mouth under the sunset.
"T-That's… 'Gold Tooth' Hawk?!"
Asahi's eyes bulged, his voice nearly cracking.
"A twenty-three-million-Beli pirate?! You've broken records again!"
The surrounding soldiers burst into whispers.
"That's the sixteenth pirate crew Ensign Gern's taken out this year, right?"
"I heard last month he wiped out the Blood Axe Pirates—sixteen million bounty—by himself…"
"Of course! He's a Logia user! How many monsters like that exist in the West Blue?!"
Gern ignored the chatter entirely.
He walked straight toward the branch building, with Asahi scurrying after him like a yapping lapdog.
"Ensign… about that intelligence…"
Asahi lowered his voice, his face bunching into a conspiratorial grin.
"You said it came in—let's talk inside."
The moment they entered the office, Asahi went straight to his desk and slapped a wanted poster down.
"Relax. I've handled it."
He smiled thinly.
"This is what you've been waiting for.
Not an easy target—he fled back here from the Grand Line."
"From the Grand Line, huh…"
Gern studied the photo and smiled.
Blood Spear Pirates
Captain: "Blood Spear" Loggert
Bounty: 69,000,000 Beli
The storm he'd been waiting for—
had finally arrived.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
patreon.com/NightScript