The Grand Line was embroiled in turmoil, yet the instigator of it all lay quietly recovering in the Calm Belt.
Inside a prison cell, Vice Admiral Garp was bound to the wall in a spread-eagle position, his arms and legs shackled with chains as thick as an arm. Though his face still bore numerous green spots, his condition had improved compared to his state on the Mad Green Island, and he was no longer in mortal danger.
A needle was inserted into the back of his hand, connected to an oversized IV bag filled with sedatives, which were steadily being administered into his bloodstream. Occasionally, Garp would struggle against his restraints, causing the chains to clatter, but his movements were weak and lethargic.
William entered the prison, his skin now free of green spots. However, lingering symptoms left his complexion pale. Behind him were Dampier and Harden. At William's signal, the guards who had been monitoring Garp around the clock left the room. As soon as they entered, Garp, who had been drooping his eyelids, snapped his eyes wide open and glared at them through the gaps in the cell bars.
William glanced at Garp's furious expression and then at the IV bag. Turning to Dampier, he asked, "Didn't you say this sedative could make Sea Kings as docile as goldfish in a fish tank? Why is our Vice Admiral Garp still so spirited, not resting quietly?"
"He's a monster, and you know that better than anyone," Dampier replied, rare sarcasm in his tone. "After all, he endured prolonged exposure to the Mad Green particles without protection and still managed to beat you up."
Behind them, Harden stared daggers at Garp and suddenly interjected, his voice venomous, "This old man caused us so much suffering, William. Let me kill him and avenge our men!"
Though William's officers had largely survived the recent conflicts in the East Blue, the same could not be said for the rank-and-file soldiers. The ambush on Mad Green Island alone had left many unable to hold out until rescue, succumbing to the effects of Daft Syndrome.
Among William's subordinates, Edmond, Harden, and other more hot-headed officers had been clamoring to execute the captured Marines in retaliation.
"Then kill me," Garp said suddenly, grinning at Harden and William. His voice grew louder as he continued, "Do you think I, a Marine, would be afraid of you filthy pirates?"
William opened the heavy cell door. Dampier stepped forward to inspect the IV bag and tubing, then checked the green spots on Garp's neck. Though Garp tried to resist, the combined effects of Daft Syndrome and the sedatives had left him weak and unable to escape Dampier's grasp.
William, meanwhile, stood before Garp, locking eyes with him and smiling. "Of course you wouldn't be afraid, Vice Admiral Garp. You're a soldier—the best kind. How could you fear death?"
His gaze shifted to Garp's hand, riddled with needle marks. "But if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble."
"What's your game this time?" Garp sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Planning to use me as a bargaining chip with the Marines? Sengoku won't negotiate with pirates. Neither will the Marines. Save your schemes."
"I have you and three other Vice Admirals, along with countless Marines. Surely Buddha Sengoku isn't so heartless as to refuse even a conversation?" William replied, his smile unwavering. "Not even a discussion?"
Garp closed his eyes, refusing to look at William or respond further. Yet deep down, regret gnawed at him. He didn't care about his own safety, but he did care about the lives of the Marines captured by William—elite soldiers handpicked by Marine Headquarters.
Harden frowned, ready to strike Garp, but William stopped him. At William's signal, the group left the prison and entered a nearby conference room in a small building. There, William's officers had gathered for a meeting.
"No wonder they're Headquarters elite Vice Admirals—each one is more stubborn than the last," William remarked as soon as he entered.
Before speaking with Garp, William had already tested the resolve of Dalmatian, Strawberry, and Doberman, the other captured Vice Admirals. Not one had shown fear of death or any inclination to compromise, not even the seemingly shrewd Strawberry.
"Marine Headquarters is nothing but a pack of obedient hunting dogs. All they know is how to chase prey; their dog brains can't comprehend the concept of negotiation," Dampier said, sitting down and offering a biting critique.
Leaning back in his chair with his eyes half-closed as if resting, Gin responded with a more balanced perspective: "They're soldiers. It's only natural for them not to compromise—it's what they should do. The Marines in the East Blue, who are willing to negotiate, are a different breed entirely. We know what they're like."
Seated nearby, Nezumi shifted uncomfortably, his expression awkward. Gin didn't even glance at him.
Nezumi's only value to William and his crew lay in his former status as a Marine. Without that identity, his low combat ability and lack of intelligence—unlike the sharp-minded Sherlock—made him increasingly irrelevant.
William walked over to Nezumi, gently patting his shoulders and smiling. "Some people are simply placed in positions that don't suit them."
Nezumi looked up at William with gratitude.
"If that's the case, then these hostages are useless. Let's kill them outright and head to Loguetown. We'll execute Marine Hero Garp where the Pirate King Gol D. Roger was killed! Let the Marines know that the East Blue belongs to the people of the East Blue, not them!" Harden exclaimed, slamming his hand down for emphasis.
Seated beside him, Aramis pressed Harden's arm down and said, "Just taking down Garp cost us so much. If another big shot like an Admiral shows up, we won't have any cards left to play."
"What's there to be afraid of? Worst case, we fight another battle in the East Blue—a guerrilla war," Harden gritted his teeth. "William already said it: the Marines won't send too many forces unless they're willing to risk their headquarters. If they do, the factions in the Grand Line will tear them apart."
"But before that happens, we'll already be shredded by the Marines. Even if they overthrow the World Government, what difference does it make to us?" Aramis replied wearily.
Harden fell silent, then turned to Sherlock, who was polishing his glasses with a cloth. "Hey, big spender. You're the brains here. What's your take?"
Sherlock put his glasses back on and replied calmly, "There's no reasoning with dogs that only know how to bark at prey. But we can negotiate with the ones holding their leashes. Marines are soldiers, and even Buddha Sengoku, known as the 'Strategist,' is still a soldier. But the World Government isn't. The Five Elders are politicians, and politicians excel at compromise—or rather, at deals."
Edmond brushed his hair aside, glanced at William, and asked Sherlock, "William wants to become a Seven Warlords of the Sea, but we've caused such a stir in the East Blue. Even if the World Government isn't as rigid as the Marines, would they agree?"
Sherlock remained silent, but William answered, "Edmond, do you remember the newspapers we used to read?"
Seeing Edmond's puzzled expression, William continued, "The Fisher Tiger incident—the attack on Mary Geoise."
Edmond's gaze turned distant as he searched his memory. After a few seconds, his expression shifted to one of sudden realization.
(End of Chapter)
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