Military funding had always been Marine Headquarters' worst headache.
In the past, they could petition the Holy Land of Mary Geoise for supplemental funds.
Given the current situation, however, Staff Officer Tsuru judged even the World Government to be strapped for cash.
With multiple clandestine supply routes severed by sunken transports, Mary Geoise had gone on a wartime footing.
Fortunately, the God's Knights had led a fleet themselves to cut a new corridor, barely keeping resources flowing into the Holy Land.
And with the next deadline for member nations to remit the Heavenly Tribute still a month away, Tsuru knew the Government would have nothing to spare for Headquarters until then.
Even if they did, rebuilding Mary Geoise would come first. When would the Marines see a single coin?
Across Headquarters, officers felt the weight of it; brows furrowed, tempers tight.
Then another question crackled through the Visual Den Den Mushi.
Every officer present—and even rank-and-file Marines across Marineford—snapped their eyes to the screen.
"Darren-san," a sharp-voiced reporter asked, "a few days ago, a major battle erupted at Marineford in which you fought three of your former colleagues—Vice Admirals widely called 'Monsters' within the Marines.
"Both the Government and Marine Headquarters have now posted bounties on you. Does this mean you've severed all ties with the Marines? If so, what identity will you use on the seas from now on?"
The question seized the room.
Everyone knew Rogers Darren's rise: from the North Blue to Headquarters, bonds threaded deep through the institution.
Hailed as the Marines' greatest prodigy in eight hundred years, he had held military authority over two key regions—the North Blue and the G-5 Branch in the New World—before all this. His record of achievement was unmatched.
And now, a candidate for Admiral—or even Fleet Admiral—had plummeted to the title of "World's Number One Criminal."
Status was one thing. His stance toward the Marines was another.
Old comrades crossing blades, turning enemies—such a spectacle would arrest any age.
Darren only smiled, easy and calm.
"Standing here was a choice. I've prepared to draw my sword against former comrades… and in fact, I don't want them to show me any mercy."
"Why?" the reporter pressed, curiosity brightening her eyes. "My understanding is you had good relationships with them."
"Indeed," Darren said gently. "Many of them are dear friends. It's precisely because they are that I want them to uphold their own Justice without wavering."
His answer left the press hushed and thoughtful.
At Headquarters, many Marines listened with a tight ache in their chests; some eyes shone.
True friends don't hinder your convictions.
"As for the identity I'll carry at sea…"
Darren went on, "As I've said, identity doesn't matter."
"The World Government can strip my rank, seize my uniform, and proclaim Rogers Darren the most dangerous criminal alive—it doesn't matter."
"They cannot stop me from pursuing my justice."
He lifted his head. Resolve, cold and implacable, hardened his eyes. His voice, deep and steady, rolled across the world through the Den Den Mushi network.
"For eight hundred years, the Celestial Dragons have sat above the clouds, looking down upon a world ravaged by disaster and suffering."
"By all manner of devices, they force more than one hundred and seventy member nations to pay crushing Heavenly Tribute each year in exchange for protection from the Government and Marines… preserving a political system of 'member states' to maintain a façade of stability across the seas."
"But I'm afraid the reality is brutally simple."
"Though the World Government and Marineford have placed the highest bounty on my head, I still consider myself a Marine—and out of duty, I warn you: the Heavenly Tribute you pay… is utterly meaningless."
"When true war comes, Marine fleets will not be able to save your nations—and the arrogant World Government will care even less for your lives."
"This was proven three days ago."
"When the North Blue Fleet loomed over the royal capitals of member nations, when desperate pleas for help flew to Mary Geoise, the Government's only reply was silence."
"For eight centuries, exorbitant tribute has plunged the world into poverty and rot. Poverty and rot have birthed wars without end… wars that breed more wars."
"And those arrogant, corrupt, self-styled gods—the Celestial Dragons—continue to feast on the ruins those wars leave behind."
Darren stepped forward, a cold smile touching his lips.
"Now I formally declare to the world: the North Blue is severing itself from the World Government's political order."
"The nations and islands of the North Blue will no longer be forced to pay extortionate Heavenly Tribute. They will pay only the minimum taxes established by historical precedent, and in return receive military protection from the North Blue Fleet."
"The North Blue Fleet possesses the most formidable military force in the world today… and we answer to no nation, no government, not even that so-called 'God.'"
"Any entity that dares invade the North Blue will be deemed an enemy of the North Blue Fleet—and annihilated."
"This declaration takes effect immediately."
He raised his hand.
A brief blue arc snapped between his fingers.
Rumble…
A deep thunder rolled through the building. Earth and twisted steel heaved, tearing the banquet hall's ceiling apart.
Hundreds of reporters stared up in horror.
They did not see open sky.
Above that sky,
a vast, disciplined formation of streamlined steel warships hung in the heavens—the North Blue Fleet's Flying Fleet.
Under the world's stunned gaze, the self-proclaimed "Justice Marine" and "World's Number One Criminal" spread his arms as gale winds howled, a faint smile on his face.
"I will protect you all… in the name of the King of the North Blue."
As his voice fell, the ironclad Invincible Fleet above roared to life, unleashing a thunderous bombardment. Fire lanced upward as colossal detonations blossomed across the seas ringing Coin Island.
Before anyone could recover from the North Blue Fleet's impossible firepower—or the way they had appeared from nowhere—
"Oh, right. I almost forgot something, esteemed Gorosei…"
The former Vice Admiral turned to the Den Den Mushi lens.
"Especially you, great Saint Saturn. I have a message…"
He bared his teeth in a grin.
"I'm afraid… the North Blue remains my North Blue."
The image froze.
To be continued...