"Alright, alright, I hear you. It won't happen again. Happy now?"
Facing Sengoku's relentless nagging, Rowan replied with a helpless sigh. At some point over the years, the roles had reversed between him and those boys, Sengoku and Garp.
In the past, Rowan was the one lecturing them on how to handle things. Now, Garp and Sengoku were the ones trying to manage Rowan's every move. Still, Rowan knew they did it out of genuine care, so he didn't complain too much.
Fortunately, this time there had been a pirate with a decent bit of skill, allowing these old bones of his to get a proper workout. Otherwise, a single ten-million-Berri small fry wouldn't have been enough to satisfy him.
...
On the other side, aboard the rapidly advancing warship.
The three Colonels were still deep in discussion regarding their upcoming tactical plan. Suddenly, a loud shout rang out from the observation crow's nest atop the mast.
"Report! Three pirate ships spotted dead ahead! The emblem on the sails is... the Great Crocodile Pirates!"
"The Great Crocodile Pirates?!"
The three Colonels stiffened simultaneously. Almost in unison, they drew their binoculars and peered in the direction the sentry indicated. Within moments, the crimson image of a crocodile skull filled their vision.
"It's them, no doubt!"
Three ships—one large and two small—exactly as the intelligence reports had described. The officers scanned the waters surrounding the pirate vessels; they saw no other ships, nor any floating wreckage.
In this scenario, the most likely conclusion was that the old gentleman had not yet encountered the pirate crew. This meant he was currently safe.
The three men let out a collective sigh of relief. This was especially true for the veteran, Colonel Shuka. He had spent his entire life in the Marine branches and was finally at an age where retirement was in sight. In just a short while, he could retire with a generous pension and a clean record; he had no desire to lose his life because of the reckless whim of a retired veteran.
"Order the ships to halt! We wait for the rest of the fleet!" Carlos commanded decisively.
The Great Crocodile Pirates were a crew from the West Blue. Not only was there a powerhouse with a bounty nearing forty million on board, but even the captain alone was someone the three Colonels combined might not be able to defeat. For now, their job was to monitor the crew's movements and report back. Dealing with the pirates was a problem for higher command to solve.
"Report!"
Just then, a messenger burst out of the cabin clutching a Den Den Mushi. He scrambled toward Colonel Carlos and gave a sharp salute.
"Reporting to Colonel Carlos! A call from Fleet Admiral Sengoku!"
"The Fleet Admiral?"
Now that he believed "Old Man Rowan is safe for the moment," Carlos's demeanor was much more relaxed. He straightened his back with newfound confidence.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, this is Colonel Carlos of the 197th Branch. Reporting, sir: we have located the Great Crocodile Pirates. There are currently no signs of conflict between them and Mr. Rowan. The old gentleman should be out of harm's way. We are monitoring their every move and will act immediately if we spot him," Carlos stated confidently.
"Ahem."
Upon hearing Carlos's report, Sengoku let out a dry cough before speaking.
"The mission parameters have changed. The leaders of the Great Crocodile Pirates, 'Mad Croc' Jakes and 'Simms the Executioner,' have already been dealt with. Your current objective is to take the remaining prisoners into custody and bring them back to base. A Headquarters warship will arrive shortly to take over the transfer."
"Yes, Fleet Admiral!"
The three men saluted habitually. But a second later, they froze.
"Wait... Fleet Admiral? Did you say Jakes and Simms have already been dealt with?"
This news hit them like a thunderclap. A pirate with a bounty nearing forty million—one who had survived the Grand Line for years—was not someone easily defeated. In the East Blue, such a man was nearly without peer. One second ago, they were agonizing over how to face such a monster; the next, Sengoku was telling them the threat was already neutralized.
Sengoku ignored Carlos's confusion and continued, "By the way, there are over two hundred and fifty prisoners. Can your ships accommodate them?"
"Over two hundred and fifty?! We can fit them, sir, but Fleet Admiral..."
Sengoku didn't wait for Carlos to finish. Once he confirmed they had the space, he hung up. After a sleepless night, he was reaching his limit and needed to catch up on some rest.
Back on the warship, the three Colonels stared at the sleeping Den Den Mushi, then at each other. Even now, they hadn't fully processed the information.
What did he mean by "Jakes and Simms have been dealt with"? And how were there over two hundred and fifty survivors left as prisoners?
Had Old Man Rowan done this? But how could a centenarian defeat a ten-million-Berri pirate and a forty-million-Berri veteran of the Grand Line?
Did the old man bring Garp with him? Old Shuka knew of the relationship between Garp and Rowan. But Sengoku had stated yesterday that Garp was in the New World and couldn't make it.
Short of Garp himself or an Elite Vice Admiral from Headquarters, the three Colonels couldn't fathom who in the East Blue could dismantle a crew of two hundred men—including the Executioner—in such a short time. Even five Marine branches working together might not have pulled it off so cleanly.
Was it that Logia 'Smoke' kid from Loguetown? Carlos wondered, before immediately shaking his head. Even on the fastest ship, it was at least a week's journey from Loguetown to this sea.
Filled with doubt, Carlos ordered his ship forward at full speed.
When Carlos finally stepped onto the deck of the pirate ship, the scene before him left him speechless.
Row upon row of pirates sat with their hands behind their heads, squatting submissively on the deck as if they were waiting for the Marines to arrive. The only person standing was a stout, middle-aged woman by the railing, shouting orders toward the water.
Judging by her clothes, she was clearly not a pirate.
Carlos hadn't walked more than a few steps before a rather shifty-looking pirate intercepted him. The man was incredibly servile, bowing low and rubbing his hands together with a desperate grin.
"Officer! Sir! You must be the gentleman Grandpa Rowan mentioned—the one coming to lock us up!"
"Grandpa Rowan?" Hearing that name, Carlos glanced at the sea of pirates who didn't even dare to lift their heads. He exchanged a look with the other two Colonels, all three of them knitting their brows in shock.
Could it be... that this was truly the work of Old Man Rowan alone?
But how was that even possible?!