The next morning.
The sun was shining brightly, and the breeze was gentle.
In the Chamber of Authority within the Holy Land.
Sengoku was reclining leisurely on a spacious and comfortable sofa, one leg crossed over the other. In his hands, he held a box of chips he had never tried before, the loud crunching sound echoing clearly in every corner of the hall.
Across from him, the Financial Martial God Izanbaron, the Legal Martial God Topman, and the Scientific Defense Martial God Saturn either stood or sat, their expressions tinged with impatience.
"Sengoku, can you stop eating already?"
Finally, Izanbaron couldn't hold back any longer. Taking a step forward, he said sternly, "This is the Chamber of Authority, not a place for you to snack! And where is Zephyr? How is it that on his first day as the Agricultural Martial God, he's already late for an official meeting?"
"Izanbaron!"
Sengoku casually picked up another chip, placing it in his mouth as he spoke unhurriedly, "Don't use that high-and-mighty tone with me. Don't forget, I am now the Environmental Martial God Sengoku the Buddha, and I am your equal!"
"You—"
Izanbaron gritted his teeth, his voice seething with cold anger. Just as he was about to lash out, a single glance from Topman, seated calmly on the sofa, reminded him to hold back.
Sengoku's tone and demeanor were certainly infuriating, but as the current rotating Environmental Martial God, he was indeed on equal footing with them. They could no longer address him with commands.
Suppressing the flames of anger in his heart, Izanbaron changed the subject. "Where is the Agricultural Martial God Zephyr, then?"
"He's out cultivating land!"
Sengoku turned his head to look out the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, his gaze passing over Pangaea Plaza and settling on a patch of artificial forest on the eastern outskirts of the plaza.
There, a one-armed Zephyr was busy directing a group of Holy Land staff, clearing weeds and digging the earth with great enthusiasm.
"You all—"
After capturing the scene of Zephyr hard at work, Izanbaron took a deep breath, his face darkening. "Is cultivating land more important than attending this meeting? Notify him immediately and have him come to the meeting!"
"Of course cultivating land is more important!"
Sengoku shifted his position, holding out a chip toward Topman. Seeing Topman wave it off, Sengoku didn't insist. Instead, he continued munching on the chip, speaking leisurely, "Fleet Admiral Xayuki said he would frequently visit the Holy Land in the future. He asked his teacher, Zephyr, to help cultivate a piece of land for him. Fleet Admiral Xayuki also said that leaving such vast stretches of the Red Line unused is a shameful waste, especially that artificial forest, which should be completely cleared and replaced with real vegetation!"
At this, Sengoku turned his gaze toward Izanbaron. "Now tell me, which is more important: the land Fleet Admiral Xayuki requested, or this insignificant meeting? If Fleet Admiral Xayuki comes to the Holy Land and doesn't see the land he wanted, it won't be Zephyr doing the cultivating—it'll be the three of you personally working the soil to stretch your muscles."
"Most importantly, Zephyr is the Agricultural Martial God, and farming is his primary duty. Sitting in an office all day for meetings—how will that produce fresh vegetables and fruits?"
Hearing this, Izanbaron's facial muscles twitched violently.
After glancing at Topman and Saturn, who remained silent throughout, Izanbaron seemed to make a decision. Without another word, he turned and left.
Meanwhile.
At Marine Headquarters, outside the dormitory building housing the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
Standing by the roadside, Gion nodded toward a Marine officer beside her.
Without hesitation, the officer stepped forward, looked up at the dormitory, and shouted loudly, "Jinbe, Gecko Moria, Crocodile, Donquixote Doflamingo—assemble!"
The officer's voice, powerful and penetrating, was like a sudden clap of thunder, jolting the four still-sleeping Warlords awake.
"Wake up, wake up!"
Jinbe was the first to leap out of bed. Without even stopping to brush his teeth or wash his face, he threw on his clothes and rushed out of the dormitory as quickly as possible.
Next was Moria, who groggily sat up, his eyes wandering in confusion.
After a few seconds, he suddenly shuddered as if realizing something. Already dressed from the night before, he skipped washing up entirely and dramatically jumped out the window.
Crocodile and Doflamingo, on the other hand, were more deliberate. Both entered their respective bathrooms simultaneously, brushing their teeth and washing their faces in front of their mirrors.
Once finished, Doflamingo put on his signature sunglasses and stepped out ahead of Crocodile.
Crocodile, who didn't wear glasses, lingered in front of the mirror, meticulously combing his slicked-back hair. Only when he was satisfied did he bite down on a cigar stub and leave the dormitory.
"Crocodile, you're thirty seconds late!"
As soon as Crocodile stepped out and joined Doflamingo, the officer in charge of escorting them to the Ideological Remolding Program stepped forward and barked, "The Fleet Admiral has made it clear: anyone who is late will face severe punishment!"
"Crocodile, step forward!"
"For every second you're late, you will carry an additional ten pounds. You were thirty seconds late, so you will carry three hundred pounds and run one hundred laps around Marineford Plaza!"
"Destination: Marineford Plaza. Begin running!"
As the officer's words fell, the air grew eerily quiet. The other three Warlords turned their heads in unison to look at Crocodile.
Crocodile's eyes practically spat fire as he bit down hard on the stub of his cigar, veins bulging on his forehead.
But in the end, he took a deep breath and suppressed his anger.
If Doflamingo had simply felt chills down his spine during the Fleet Admiral's pressure at the last Warlord meeting, then the scene last night—when Xayuki, wielding his sword, commanded soldiers and officers to "stand up"—had completely changed Crocodile's perception.
He now fully recognized the situation and acknowledged Xayuki's qualifications as a king.
Ambitious as he was, Crocodile understood that when one's strength fell short of one's ambition, the best choice was to align oneself with a worthy leader.
The man who had unified Marine Headquarters from top to bottom, inspiring fervent loyalty and admiration, was not someone Crocodile could afford to oppose.
After a brief silence, Crocodile straightened his back and stepped forward, following the officer toward Marineford Plaza to begin his punishment run.
Surprisingly, the remaining three Warlords did not mock Crocodile for complying with a mere officer's orders. After witnessing the true power of a king last night, they shared the same understanding as Crocodile.
"Alright, you three, follow me~"
At that moment, Gion's voice rang out.
Before the three could respond, Gion had already turned and begun walking away.
Fearing they might also be subjected to punishment for lagging behind, the three quickly followed.
Soon, under Gion's guidance, the three arrived at a training field.
Inside, Boa Hancock, Dracule Mihawk, and Gunshi were already present.
Seeing this, Jinbe, Moria, and Doflamingo hurriedly joined them, standing in a neat line.
"Where's Crocodile?"
Standing by the weapons rack at the edge of the field, Xayuki glanced around and asked, "Was he punished for being late?"
"Yes!" Gion replied with a smile.
"Then we won't wait for him~"
Xayuki stepped forward, standing before the six assembled Warlords. His expression turned serious as he said, "Today's Ideological Remolding Program is simple. I will personally teach you a set of exercises for physical and mental well-being. It's easy to learn."
Before the six could react, Xayuki raised his hand and snapped his fingers. "Music!"
As his words fell, a lively tune echoed across Marineford.
A spirited voice followed: "Now let's begin the eighth set of broadcast gymnastics—"
"March in place, go~"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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