Chiga retracted his gaze, having already received the answer he sought.
During his telepathic confrontation with Imu just now, he had glimpsed a pair of eyes.
They were red Rinnegan, but the ripples didn't cover the entire eye, only two concentric circles.
Of course, Chiga couldn't be sure by appearance alone — but possessing the Rinnegan himself, he could sense a familiar aura from those eyes.
It was the aura of kin.
However, this aura was strange, appearing in faint, intermittent waves, as though it had suffered some trauma or been weakened.
Chiga lowered his head, deep in thought.
It seems Imu still has secrets hidden within him.
From Imu's reaction just now, it was obvious he was constantly paying attention to Chiga. But what made him so interested in him? Was it merely because they were kin?
As far as Chiga knew, the Ōtsutsuki clan had a detached attitude toward their own kind. Yet Imu was oddly invested in him, practically opening doors to accelerate his growth.
Ten-Tails. Ōtsutsuki. Care. Weak aura.
Keywords appeared one by one in Chiga's mind, until a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
He wants to feed me to the Ten-Tails after I fully evolve into an Ōtsutsuki!
Once this thought surfaced, it refused to leave. Chiga felt his guess was dangerously close to the truth.
But one problem remained: wasn't Imu afraid that after he fully evolved into an Ōtsutsuki, he wouldn't be able to defeat him? Judging by that weak aura earlier, Imu probably couldn't even defeat the current Chiga.
So where did Imu's confidence come from?
After thinking it over, there seemed to be only one possibility — Imu wasn't an Ōtsutsuki himself but had been branded with a Karma seal by one, much like the relationship between Ōtsutsuki Isshiki and Jigen.
This also explained why Chiga felt that aura was so faint and damaged.
And Imu's trump card likely involved temporarily borrowing Ōtsutsuki power through Karma to try and take him down.
If that was the case, then the Ōtsutsuki who had branded Imu was no weakling. He was confident enough to believe he could overpower a freshly evolved Chiga.
But no matter what Imu's situation was, his ultimate goal was likely the same as Chiga's suspicion — to feed him to the Ten-Tails, absorb the resulting fruit, and increase his power.
Chiga even suspected Imu was more anxious for his evolution than he was.
If not for Chiga's selectiveness with Devil Fruits, and the fact that one couldn't be force-fed against their will, Imu might have tried personally stuffing one into his Rinnegan by now.
Naturally, Chiga guessed that Imu wished for his evolution to accelerate. But for now, no countermeasures came to mind.
His evolution had to continue. Delaying it would only result in Imu growing impatient and forcing him into the Ten-Tails prematurely.
Moreover, since Imu seemed confident in facing an evolved Ōtsutsuki, his power must already be formidable.
Rather than confronting Imu with his current strength, it was better to finish evolving and then settle matters — that way, his chances of victory would be far greater.
Chiga refused to believe that his Rinnegan, after absorbing so much Devil Fruit power, wouldn't be a match for Imu once he completed his transformation.
For now, he would follow his original plan.
Collecting his thoughts, Chiga glanced down at Brook and Laboon.
Their moods had stabilized, Brook teasing the giant whale and eliciting bursts of joyful cries.
Seeing such a warm scene, a faint smile appeared on Chiga's face, his mood improving considerably.
Crocus, seeing Laboon's happiness, felt genuinely relieved for the whale from the bottom of his heart.
No more tranquilizers for Laboon… Crocus thought to himself.
At the same time, his gaze shifted to Chiga's back.
Until now, he had only heard of Chiga through newspapers — a terrifying Marine Admiral known for his ruthless stance against pirates, much like Akainu: kill on sight, no mercy.
But Chiga's actions today completely overturned Crocus's perception.
This was a humane Marine Admiral.
Both Brook and Crocus were pirates. Crocus had even sailed with the Roger Pirates — a crime alone deserving death under Marine law.
Yet Chiga spared them both and even helped reunite Brook and Laboon.
All of it felt unreal.
If all Marines were like him… wouldn't Roger's rebellion have been pointless?
Crocus's gaze toward Chiga became increasingly complicated.
Chiga's perception was sharp. He noticed the look, turned, and asked plainly,
"Have you seen enough? What's on your mind?"
Startled, Crocus quickly waved a hand. "Ah, sorry, no harm meant. I was just… curious about your thoughts on this world."
"Oh? Didn't Roger already see through this world? As his crewmate, why ask a Marine like me?"
"Uh…"
Crocus scratched his head awkwardly, then rephrased,
"Then… how do you view the pirate community?"
"Just trash drifting on the sea."
"…"
Crocus's mouth twitched. Chiga's words included him, but he didn't dare retort.
Luckily, Chiga thought for a moment and added,
"But once in a while, you'll find a few specks of gold in the trash heap."
He meant that, amid the countless pirate crews, some were decent.
Pirates who didn't pillage civilians, whose fortunes came from honest treasure hunts or exploration, and who sometimes even helped civilians in exchange for Berries.
In Chiga's eyes, these were the rare "gold" amid the garbage.
But gold and trash were, in the end, two different things.
Such pirate crews were pirates only in name — essentially passionate adventurers, fundamentally different from true pirates.
To name representatives: the Blackbeard Pirates were true scum of the sea.
The Rumbar Pirates, whom Brook once sailed with, were adventurers beneath a pirate flag.
Naturally, Chiga's attitude toward these two groups was worlds apart.
Look at the Blackbeard Pirates — even before their crew fully formed, Chiga had hunted down and killed them. Their captain, Blackbeard, died by his hands as well.
Chiga felt nothing about it.
That was his definition of justice.
---