A few days later, news that both puzzled and shocked readers spread rapidly across the world, carried by the ever-reliable News Coos soaring through the skies.
"SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT! Leviathan Jerry Reaches Agreement with World Government—Takes Position as Seventh Warlord of the Sea!"
"The Seven Warlords Complete Once Again—More Powerful Than Ever!"
The bold headlines sent ripples of reaction throughout the world. In royal palaces and noble estates across World Government member nations, those who still remembered Jerry's previous exploits found themselves in a state of celebration. Meanwhile, in taverns, village squares, and Revolutionary Army hideouts, common folk who had once looked up to Jerry as a symbol of resistance stared at the newspapers in disbelief.
The divide in reactions was stark and predictable. The nobles and those in positions of power were practically euphoric—the man who had once brazenly defied Celestial Dragons and inspired revolutionary fervor had apparently bent the knee to the very system he had opposed. But among the common people, especially those who had been moved by Jerry's actions in Alabasta and at Tequila Wolf, the news felt like a betrayal of everything they thought he represented.
The newspaper's detailed coverage made the situation even more damning in the eyes of Jerry's former admirers. The article meticulously outlined exactly how Jerry had secured his position: the capture of two high-bounty Supernova pirates, a formal written apology submitted to the World Government, and an enormous tribute payment that demonstrated his supposed submission.
To outside observers, these actions painted a clear picture—the fearless pirate who had once stood toe-to-toe with World Nobles, whose words had sparked rebellions and whose presence could topple governments, had finally succumbed to the World Government's authority.
In village squares across the world, copies of the newspaper were torn, trampled, and burned by disillusioned citizens who had once held Jerry as their beacon of hope against oppression.
New World, Aboard the Moby Dick
"What the hell is that kid thinking?" Marco scratched his head, genuine confusion written across his face as he studied the newspaper for the third time.
If Marco hadn't been aware of the situation with Ace's sworn brother being captured, and if he didn't understand Jerry's character from their time together, he might have genuinely believed that the Black Star captain had sold out to the enemy.
"Guraarara! That kid—this has to be part of whatever they're planning," Whitebeard's booming laughter echoed across the deck as he gazed up at the sky, his eyes twinkling with understanding.
While Whitebeard and his commanders knew that Ace was preparing for some kind of major operation, they hadn't been briefed on the specific details. Still, that didn't prevent the Emperor from reading between the lines and recognizing the strategic thinking behind Jerry's seemingly contradictory actions.
Among all the crews sailing the seas, if anyone could claim to truly understand both the Black Star Pirates and Ace's character, it would be Whitebeard and his division commanders. They had watched Jerry operate, seen his loyalty to his friends, and witnessed his unwavering moral compass. This apparent capitulation simply didn't match the man they knew.
Somewhere in the New World
"So, what do you think?" Shanks handed the newspaper to his first mate with a slight grin, though his eyes held a more serious gleam.
Beckman calmly accepted the paper, glanced at the headlines with his characteristic composed expression, and replied dryly, "It's not what it seem"
Shanks blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the literal response. "Well... I guess that makes sense."
The Red-Haired Emperor chuckled, but both men understood the underlying implications of Jerry's move. In their line of work, sometimes the most shocking betrayals were actually the most elaborate strategies.
Blackbeard's Territory
"Damn it... this kid, is he coming for us?" Marshall D. Teach stared at the newspaper in his grip, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably as anxiety crept into his voice.
While Teach wasn't intimately familiar with Jerry personally, he was well aware of the man's history with Ace. They had served on the same crew, and even after going their separate ways, their bond remained strong. The timing of Jerry's Warlord appointment, coming so soon after Teach's own acquisition of prisoners, seemed far too convenient to be coincidental.
"What's the matter, Captain? Want me to deal with him? Hahaha!" Champion Burgess raised both arms high, flexing his impressive biceps with typical bravado.
"Burgess, don't be an idiot," Teach warned with a forced laugh, though his tone carried genuine concern. "Setting aside the fact that we're both Warlords now, even without that protection, you should never provoke that man. I don't want you getting yourself killed for no reason. Zehahaha!"
Despite his outward laughter, a strong sense of urgency began building in Teach's chest. He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for his crew to hear, "No... regardless of whether he's actually targeting me or not, I can't let him interfere with my plans. It looks like I need to accelerate my timeline."
Marine Headquarters, Marineford
While the rest of the world buzzed with speculation and debate, Jerry himself remained completely unbothered by the global attention his appointment had generated. At this very moment, he was brazenly lounging on the supposedly secure grounds of Marine Headquarters, treating the most fortified military installation in the world like his personal fishing spot.
On a quiet section of coastline within the base's perimeter, Jerry sat comfortably in a folding chair he had brought along, fishing rod in hand as he cast his line into the calm waters with practiced ease.
The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and he turned his head slightly to see two familiar figures he hadn't encountered in quite some time.
Jerry raised his hand with a bright, genuine smile, greeting them with characteristic enthusiasm. "Hi there, Miss Gion, Isuka! How have you been? You both look well."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Vice Admiral Gion's eyes narrowed dangerously as she demanded an explanation. "This is Marine Headquarters! How did you even get inside?"
Jerry waved his hand dismissively, his smile never wavering. "Don't be so formal about it. After all, we're all working for the same boss now, right? And Fleet Admiral Sengoku hasn't told me to leave, so here I am."
He gestured toward his fishing setup with mock solemnity. "I'm just a simple man in a straw hat, fishing alone by the cold water. You can treat me like some kind of emotionless fishing machine, or maybe a decorative sculpture. I won't interfere with whatever you need to do."
"Don't give me that—" Gion began, placing her hands on her hips in preparation for a proper scolding, but she was interrupted by a sudden commotion.
A brown blur flashed across the area, and Vice Admiral Tokikake appeared with his characteristic enthusiastic grin plastered across his face.
Gion glanced at the newly arrived officer, noting his barely contained excitement, and asked flatly, "Weren't you supposed to be on a mission? What are you doing here?"
"Of course I completed my mission successfully!" Tokikake replied with exaggerated seriousness, though his internal monologue was far more revealing. "I rushed back as soon as I heard there was a pirate at headquarters!"
Internally, he was practically cheering: "Perfect! Miss Gion is actually paying attention to my schedule! This might be my chance!"
"Really? Then you can keep an eye on him for me. I'm leaving." Without any further discussion, Gion turned on her heel and walked away with determined strides.
Isuka caught a glimpse of Tokikake's smugly satisfied expression and couldn't help but stifle a small laugh at his obvious delusion. She gave Jerry a small wave before following in Gion's wake, leaving the Vice Admiral alone with the newest Warlord.
Fleet Admiral's Office
In his office high above the bustling activity of Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral Sengoku sat hunched over a stack of documents, occasionally shaking his head and sighing as he worked through the paperwork that seemed to multiply daily.
Nearby, Vice Admiral Garp had settled himself comfortably on the office sofa, casually munching on rice crackers while browsing through intelligence reports. His eyes were drawn to the newspaper lying on the nearby table, and he picked it up with mild curiosity.
After reading through the headline story, Garp burst into his characteristic loud laughter around a mouthful of crackers. "Hahaha! Tell me something, Sengoku—was that Celestial Dragon really beaten so badly that he lost his mind? How else could the World Government possibly agree to make Jerry a Warlord?"
"Who knows?" Sengoku replied without looking up from his work, his voice carrying a note of exhaustion. "According to the reports, Jerry said something to Saint Croft, and then the World Noble agreed to support his appointment. The details are... classified."
"Ahem, Garp," Sengoku suddenly looked up, fixing his old friend with a meaningful stare, "let's try not to shout about these sensitive topics while we're discussing them, shall we?"
The Fleet Admiral then let out a long, weary sigh. "Look, we can all see that his motives aren't pure. Anyone with half a brain can figure that out. But there's nothing we can do about it now."
"This decision came from the highest levels of the World Government," Vice Admiral Tsuru interjected calmly, glancing meaningfully at Garp. "There's no point in second-guessing it now. We just need to stay alert and be prepared. Besides, compared to Jerry, I don't think our previous newest member, Blackbeard, is necessarily any more trustworthy."
At the mention of Blackbeard's name, Garp's expression darkened considerably, and he muttered under his breath with barely contained anger.
Naturally, Garp harbored nothing but hatred for the pirate who had defeated and captured his beloved grandson, then handed Luffy over to the World Government without a second thought. The whole situation had put the Marine hero in an impossible position, torn between his duty and his family.
Sensing the dangerous shift in mood, Sengoku quickly changed the subject. "By the way, Garp, you've actually fought against Jerry before. Is he really as strong as the reports suggest?"
Garp swallowed his rice cracker and burst into laughter again, though there was a new note of respect in his voice. "Bwaahahaha! Sengoku, you're changing the subject pretty abruptly there. But didn't I already tell you all about that fight?"
Both Sengoku and Tsuru exchanged a meaningful look, relieved to see that Garp seemed to have returned to his normal, boisterous self. The topic of his grandson was still clearly painful, but at least he wasn't dwelling on it.