Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
On the second floor of his home, in the study, Sakazuki stood by the window staring toward Mariejois.
"The Reverie should have begun by now," he said quietly.
Carlo shrugged. "Probably. I just feel like the Reverie doesn't really do much. They don't seem to make any useful decisions."
Sakazuki gave a short laugh. "The so-called Reverie is nothing more than a fig leaf for dictatorship. Those kings are just a bunch of fools being pacified. The government hands them a convenient reason so they'll pay up every year. Eight hundred years is more than enough for anyone with ambition to replace and control any power. The World Government is no exception. The ones who really hold the reins... are those people in the Holy Land."
Carlo let out a sigh. "That's terrifying..."
"Thinking about it now won't change anything," Sakazuki said. "By the way, where's Bullet?"
"He'll be at headquarters this afternoon," Carlo replied.
The admiral nodded. "Head to the records room later and compile a list of all known Paramecia users on the seas, pirates first. Keep it updated at all times. It's time we started retrieving the fruits."
"Yes," he answered. "But what about Zoans and Logias?"
Sakazuki shook his head. "Aside from a few Mythical Zoans, the rest aren't of much use. Same goes for Logias. What matters are the Paramecias. Many of them fall under the category of rule-type powers. You can't defend against them with raw strength alone. Those are the real danger, and they must be kept under control."
The Slow-Slow Fruit, the Luck-Luck Fruit, the Heal-Heal Fruit, the Hobby-Hobby Fruit. Alongside them, highly practical ones like the Wax-Wax Fruit, the Munch-Munch Fruit, and the Barrier-Barrier Fruit. All belonged to the Paramecia class. Troublesome abilities like these had to be secured at all costs.
Carlo gave a firm nod. "Understood."
Thinking for a moment, Sakazuki asked, "What about the Donquixote Pirates' fruits? Have they been extracted yet?"
"They've all been conveniently killed," came the reply. "Every fruit has been delivered to the base. Even the ones they kept stored away are secured. The most valuable among them is the Gol-Gol Fruit. The rest aren't as noteworthy. But... there were two young girls from the Donquixote family. Vice Admiral Tsuru took them in the North Blue."
Sakazuki's brows lifted. "Two? I thought it was just one, that Baby 5 girl. Harmless enough, so I didn't care."
"According to our reports," Carlo explained, "another was found earlier this year during the sweep of the Donquixote stronghold. She was preparing to join them. A little girl with the Hobby-Hobby Fruit. We didn't have time to act before Vice Admiral Tsuru stepped in."
Sakazuki went silent, then murmured, "I see... Forget it. If Tsuru has her, she'll probably end up a marine anyway. Focus on gathering data. Find the fruits that absolutely need to be recovered."
Tsuru's Wash-Wash Fruit could cleanse the evil in a person's heart, slowly turning them toward good. In truth, it was no different from a brainwashing fruit. Either way, those two girls would eventually serve the Marines in the end.
* * *
Water 7.
At this time, it had none of the prosperity it would one day be known for.
The island was run-down, littered with piles of discarded scraps and garbage. Countless people lay slumped on the ground, dragging themselves through each passing day. With its location and storm-ridden seas, shipwrecks and deaths were constant. Few dared to come here. Despair filled the hearts of everyone who lived in this place.
In a narrow, abandoned alley, two men with bottles in their hands spoke idly.
"Suicide?"
"Yeah. The president of Shipbuilding Company No. 4. He lost all his supplies in that accident. He had to sell his property just to rebuild and set out again. But another accident hit. This time fifty men died along with the cargo. He shut down the dockyard and hanged himself at home."
"Humans... fragile creatures, aren't they."
"This island... is there really no saving it?"
The two sat there wasting time, drowning in hopelessness. Suddenly, the sound of cheers rose in the distance, growing louder.
They exchanged puzzled looks and strained to listen.
"That's... the Scrap Island?"
"What could possibly be at Scrap Island... Scrap Island..."
Clang!
One bottle slipped from a hand and shattered.
The two stared at each other, disbelief written on their faces.
"Scrap Island! You don't think... the Sea Train?!"
They leapt to their feet and ran madly toward Scrap Island.
Because there... lay hope.
* * *
The port of Water 7.
Crowds of residents had gathered, staring at the colossal steel beast. Awe and shock filled their eyes as they murmured among themselves.
"Hey, is this for real?"
"It's made entirely of steel!"
"Can something like this even move? It looks dangerous, especially since criminals built it."
"I want to ride it!"
"Me too!"
"Huh? Tom! Is there any instruction?"
Standing nearby, Tom laughed heartily. "Tahahaha, none at all! Everyone just hop on. From now on, you'll be riding proudly across the sea!"
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers.
From the driver's cabin, the fish-woman Kokoro poked her head out of the window. "We're departing soon. Get on while you can!"
Moments later.
Hiss!
Steam blasted from the sharp vents of the train's head. Slowly, it began to move. With a deep, echoing whistle, the very first Sea Train started its maiden journey.
* * *
Several days later, on Enies Lobby.
On the desk of the aging chief judge lay a report.
"It's already been ten years... so it succeeded. Not bad at all."
He was the same judge who had granted Tom ten years of time back then. Looking at the report in his hand, describing the Sea Train's flawless performance brought a faint smile to his wrinkled face.
It was time to clear Tom of his crimes. He called for a guard. "Make preparations. Ten days from now, we'll head to Water 7."
* * *
At the same time, in the Holy Land of Mariejois, within the offices of the World Government.
Spandine, now promoted to the government's upper ranks, held an identical report. A CP agent loyal to him had passed it along.
After all, as someone who had commanded CP9 for years, he still had influence.
His eyes fell on the name of the fish-man Tom, and with it, he remembered the legend of the Pluton blueprints.
If he played this right... then even his good-for-nothing son could use this achievement to inherit his position and rise to take command of CP9.
A thin smile spread across his lips as he picked up a Den Den Mushi.
"Hello..."
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