Most of the Vice Admirals secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
At least they no longer had to agonize over being inferior to a new recruit.
Now, it was a high-level game of whether the monster could be controlled.
Sengoku watched the deadlock, but he already had a plan. The goal of intimidation had been achieved.
Making these arrogant officers realize Zaraki's true value was the purpose of today's meeting.
The title of Admiral Candidate was merely a means to raise the stakes.
"Since no one disputes his strength but questions his character and stance..."
Sengoku slowly gathered the documents, sat back in the Fleet Admiral's chair, and crossed his hands under his chin.
The glare on his glasses obscured his eyes.
"Then we will wait until he arrives here by himself."
Sengoku uncrossed his hands, his knuckles pale from the pressure.
He took off his round glasses, pulled a cleaning cloth from his pocket, and wiped the lenses.
This was an olive branch.
"Then it's settled." Sengoku put his glasses back on, the heavy authority in his voice softening as he returned to his role as commander.
"Such a monster would indeed be wasted and a potential threat if left in the Four Blues. His specific rank will be decided after he arrives at Marineford, following combat drills and an assessment of his sense of Justice."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Akainu, and added pointedly, "Before he reaches Headquarters, I don't want to hear any news about preemptive elimination or private probing. He is an asset of Headquarters, not anyone's punching bag. If he is driven to the other side... I don't think anyone wants to bear the consequences."
Akainu's hand, adjusting his collar, froze for half a second.
He snorted coldly, reaching up to lower the brim of his hat, hiding the lingering glow of magma in his eyes.
"As long as he upholds Justice, I naturally have no interest in targeting a brat." Sakazuki turned around, his cape sweeping a sharp arc behind him, leaving a pungent smell of sulfur in the air.
"But if he is a beast only wearing the coat of justice... Fleet Admiral, you know my principles."
The heavy door was pushed open forcefully, then slowly swung back on its hydraulic hinges.
"My, my, such terrifying obsession."
Kizaru stood up sluggishly, stretching with a loud crackle of his joints.
He glanced at the charred hole on the corner of the table and shook his head regretfully.
"Another table to replace. The budget is already tight. Well, I'll go have some tea to calm my nerves. After all, these youngsters nowadays are always ready to slice an island in half. An old man's heart can't take it."
With the departure of the two top-tier fighters, the other Vice Admirals gradually gathered their documents and left.
As Doberman passed Onigumo, he patted his colleague's shoulder, his eyes conveying a silent hint of understanding.
In the blink of an eye, the vast conference room sat empty except for Sengoku and the white goat quietly chewing on papers.
Sengoku leaned back in his chair and let out a long, heavy sigh.
He picked up the bag of rice crackers by his side, which Garp had pilfered until only crumbs remained, and shook it—not a single intact piece left.
"That bastard Garp..."
Sengoku cursed, but he wasn't truly angry.
Instead, his frown deepened.
He stared at the photo of Zaraki on the desk—the boy's eyes wild, a reckless grin curling his mouth.
That expression looked like neither a Marine nor a pirate; it was unnervingly pure.
Onigumo's description echoed in his mind: A beast that knows neither pain nor fear.
"If it were just strength, proper guidance could mold him into a sharp blade. But this kind of temperament..." He tapped the desk with his knuckles, producing a rhythmic thud. "Garp assured me over the Den Den Mushi that the kid at least knows who to point his blade at, and aside from loving to fight too much, he hasn't crossed the line."
At this point, Sengoku didn't dare believe every word from his old comrade.
Someone who could leave Onigumo with psychological scars being defined so lightly?
A heavy wave of unease washed over Sengoku.
This unease didn't stem from fear of Zaraki's strength, but from a primal intuition.
This kid was a massive variable, and by tossing him into the murky waters of the Marines, what kind of splash would Garp's move create?
"I have a feeling something else is being kept from me about the East Blue."
Sengoku stood up and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside sat Marineford's perpetually clear sky, but as he gazed toward the East Blue, an inescapable gloom seemed to linger there.
....
Meanwhile, far away in the East Blue, just beyond the entrance to the Grand Line.
The sky hung leaden gray, a fine drizzle enveloping the town of beginnings and ends.
The streets of Loguetown glistened under the rain, the air thick with the scent of sea salt and aged wood.
At the far end of a street, a figure in a leather jacket hurried through the wind and rain, heading straight toward the Marine branch.
...
The door of the Loguetown Marine branch was shoved open by a gust of wind carrying rain, letting out a sharp, grating screech.
Isuka stepped inside and closed her dripping red umbrella.
Before she could even shake the water droplets from her leather jacket, a warm, musty breeze hit her face, a sharp contrast to the cold curtain of rain behind her.
Frowning, she wiped the rainwater from her eyelashes.
The katana at her waist clinked loudly against the doorframe.
"Oran, what the hell?"
Isuka's voice was already edged with impatience before she even saw anyone. "I was tracking Fire Fist's trail; that guy's as slippery as an eel! Calling me back at a time like this—unless the sky's falling, I'll chop your desk in half."
The receptionist, Chief Petty Officer Oran, wore a pained expression.
He held a cup of hot water and a clean towel.
"Lieutenant Isuka, please keep your voice down..." Oran whispered nervously, gesturing with his chin toward the closed room on the second floor.
"The Captain locked himself in his room after returning. The doctor checked him, but he..."
"Captain Smoker is injured?"
Isuka paused in the middle of pulling off her leather gloves.
That Logia Moku Moku no Mi user?
In a place like the East Blue, who could possibly hurt him?
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