Unlike the suffocating atmosphere in Marine Headquarters, the sea wind on Zaraki's warship was straightforward and fierce.
It carried the unique scent of the New World, a salty smell mixed with sulfur and the fragrance of unknown flowers. The wind filled the massive sails and tousled the black hair over Zaraki's forehead.
He half-leaned against the rail, one leg casually bent and braced against the cold steel.
The bottle in his hand was already more than half empty. The amber liquid inside rippled faintly with the ship's gentle rocking.
The Den Den Mushi had been casually tossed onto the deck.
After imitating Sengoku's furious expression and sulking at itself for a while, it finally calmed down and returned to its blank look.
Sengoku's roar?
Just wind passing his ears.
Kaido's pursuers?
The old man was working from his projected route.
That estimate would only matter if Zaraki kept sailing like a good little Marine along the path others had drawn for him.
He tilted his head back and poured the last mouthful of wine down his throat.
The spicy warmth burned all the way down his esophagus and into his stomach.
Comfortable.
He casually tossed the empty bottle behind him.
It drew a precise arc through the air before landing steadily in the recycling bin at the corner of the deck with a thunk.
Not far away, the two Marine Vice Admirals were standing over a huge nautical chart with grave expressions.
"According to the chart, three hundred nautical miles ahead is the Mist-Whirlpool Sea. Once we enter, the Log Pose will completely fail. We have to detour west for at least half a day."
Vice Admiral Yamakaji, the man who always had a cigar in his mouth, placed his rough hand on the chart and drew out a winding route.
"A detour means time." Gion's fingers tapped lightly against the table, and worry lingered between her brows.
"Kaido's scouts are already moving along our projected route. A half-day gap is more than enough for them to close the net."
This specially modified warship was already one of the fastest models the Marines possessed, but before the fleet of the strongest creature in the world, it still was not enough.
That was common sense, and it was the weight pressing on both Vice Admirals' hearts.
"But if we don't detour, we're sailing straight into a dead end," Yamakaji said, his tone heavier.
Just as the two could not reach an agreement, a clear female voice cut in.
"Helmsman, shift course seven degrees to starboard. Maintain full speed."
Gion and Yamakaji both turned toward the source of the voice.
At some point, Viola had walked to the helm. There was no expression on her face, and her calm eyes were fixed on the seemingly empty sea ahead.
The helmsman froze for a moment, then instinctively looked toward the two Vice Admirals, waiting for an order.
"What are you looking at them for?"
Zaraki's lazy voice drifted over from the rail. He did not even turn his head.
"Listen to her."
With Zaraki's order given, the helmsman no longer dared hesitate and immediately turned the wheel.
The enormous warship gave a faint groan, and the bow slowly began to shift.
"Have you lost your mind?"
Yamakaji finally could not hold back. He strode up to Viola.
"That way is—"
His words stopped abruptly.
Because he saw Viola make a strange gesture.
She raised her right hand, curling her thumb and index finger into a circle, like a ridiculous pretend telescope, and held it up to her eye.
In the next second, both Yamakaji and Gion, who had followed him over, felt their breathing stop.
Through that small circle, Viola's pupils seemed to become two boundless mirror lakes.
What they reflected was no prophecy and no fate, but everything hidden from ordinary sight: currents beneath the surface, reefs under the waves, predators waiting in the depths, and the twisting paths between all of them.
"Hard port. Straighten in three seconds."
Viola's voice rang out again, calm and emotionless.
The helmsman spun the wheel hard.
The entire warship carved a dangerous arc across the sea, and the massive centrifugal force made the secured objects on the deck groan.
Just as the ship corrected its course, the sea directly ahead of their original route exploded with a boom.
A giant Sea King, its body comparable to a small mountain, burst out of the water. Its wide, bloody maw was large enough to swallow half the warship.
It seemed to have been drawn by the vibration of the hull cutting through the water. After roaring furiously for a while, it slowly sank back into the depths.
The deck fell into dead silence.
Cold sweat slid down Yamakaji's temple.
If not for that seemingly unreasonable course change just now, they would probably already be inside a Sea King's stomach.
Gion's beautiful eyes were wide as she stared fixedly at Viola.
She remembered the intelligence about this woman.
A user of the Giro Giro no Mi.
The files said she could see through people's hearts, objects, and distance.
Now Gion finally understood what that meant on the sea. Viola was not predicting the future.
She was seeing every reef, current, and monster hidden beneath the waves before the ship reached them.
This was not an oracle.
It was reconnaissance pushed to an absurd level.
"Course correction. Two degrees to port. There is an upward warm current ahead. We can ride it."
Viola lowered her hand, her tone still calm, as though what she had just done was nothing worth mentioning.
Yamakaji and Gion exchanged a look, and both saw undisguised shock in each other's eyes.
They silently stepped aside and put away the sea chart that now looked painfully inadequate in front of this level of scouting.
The so-called Mist-Whirlpool Sea, the so-called dead end—in this woman's eyes, they were still dangerous, but they were no longer invisible.
No wonder that man dared act so recklessly.
Almost at the same time, they turned their gazes toward Zaraki by the rail.
He was facing the sea wind, looking into the distance with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
As if all of this had already been within his calculations.
Behind him was a Four Emperor chasing him down.
Ahead of him was a Warlord with connections reaching the heavens. Yet there was not the slightest trace of tension or panic on this man.
All he had was the calm of a hunter walking into his hunting ground.
Under Viola's precise commands, the warship moved like the sharpest scalpel, cutting through the veins of the sea as it sped along a strange route that no chart could ever mark.
The path through the Mist-Whirlpool Sea broke the pursuit route King's scouts had projected and bought them the time Sengoku feared they did not have.
After an unknown amount of time, the air seemed to grow a little warmer, and the faint sweet fragrance of tropical plants could be smelled.
Dressrosa was close.
Viola silently calculated the distance and time, her eyes that could perceive all things constantly scanning everything beneath the sea ahead.
Reefs, currents, large creatures... every possible obstacle was avoided in advance.
Suddenly, her footsteps paused, and for the first time, a ripple appeared on her calm face.
She turned around and quickly walked to Zaraki's side.
"Zaraki," she said in a low voice, her tone heavy. "About the landing point, I have a suggestion."