"..."
Renn Hawk calmly accepted the Den Den Mushi from Skylark.
"Burururu... Burururu..."
The snail connected, its little eyes shifting as the line opened.
"Hahahahaha!"
A booming laugh erupted from the other end, so hearty and unrestrained that it seemed to rumble out of the snail's tiny mouth. Even through the line, the joy radiated like waves.
"Hawk, you brat! What you did with Vergo magnificent work!"
Fleet Admiral Sengoku's voice carried an unmistakable vigor. "You've given me a damn good mood today. Excellent! Tell me what reward do you want?"
Sengoku thought it over and decided to let Hawk name his own prize.
Why not? he mused. I gave that bastard Vergo a beating so thorough it cleared years off my shoulders. I'm in too good a mood to care. Whatever Hawk asks, I'll grant it.
If it came down to it, Sengoku was even willing to storm into Mary Geoise, stand in front of those five crusty old geezers, and demand approval. And if they dared to refuse, he was ready to transform right there in the Holy Land and show them what a Fleet Admiral in a foul mood looked like.
"... "
Hawk didn't answer immediately.
Reward?
Not only was he uninterested in asking for one he had been preparing to send Sengoku a massive "gift" of his own.
But then something clicked. From Sengoku's words, it sounded like the old man himself had dealt with Vergo. Which meant... Sengoku wasn't at Headquarters.
That was perfect.
If Sengoku wasn't in Marineford, then this was the best possible chance. He could lure the Fleet Admiral to G-3.
Let Sengoku see the shipload of Skypiean gold with his own eyes.
And then the problem of transporting it quietly well, Hawk could hand that headache right over to Sengoku.
Flawless.
"Fleet Admiral," Hawk said, his tone polite and steady, "I do have one small request."
"Oh? Let's hear it!" Sengoku, still riding his high, spoke without hesitation.
"G-3 has only just been restructured. There's a great deal of work ahead, and the men need something to bind them together quickly, to instill both fighting spirit and honor. And to show the New World that the Navy's commitment to justice is ironclad..."
He paused, voice lowering slightly. "Would you be willing to visit G-3 yourself? Conduct an inspection, set the tone for this new beginning?"
"... "
On the other end, Sengoku fell quiet.
He turned, brows raised, to glance at the calm-faced Tsuru seated beside him, as if asking with his eyes: Did I hear that right?
Hawk, this kid, didn't ask for treasure, weapons, or promotion. Instead, he invited his Fleet Admiral to come and inspect his branch?
Does his work even need inspecting? Sengoku thought, baffled.
But... Marineford could run itself for a short while. Sakazuki was holding the fort. Nothing would collapse in his absence.
Besides, he had personally avenged Rosinante's death by crushing one of Doflamingo's men. His heart was light for the first time in months.
Why not take a trip? See this Hawk with his own eyes.
Sengoku slapped his knee, a grin spreading. "Very well! I'll leave immediately!"
"Yes, sir."
"Click."
The line went dead.
On the Fleet Admiral's personal warship, Sengoku rose to his feet with a gleam in his eye.
Tsuru hid a smile behind her hand. It had been years since she'd seen him this lively. The rigid, stubborn old commander was showing signs of youth again, and frankly, it suited him.
"Helmsman!" Sengoku barked, his voice thundering. "Change course! Our destination is the G-3 Branch on the Grand Line! Full speed ahead!"
"Aye, sir!"
The ship groaned as it swung into a sharp turn, sails snapping as it cut through the waves like a blade.
Meanwhile, at Marineford.
Inside the Admiral's office, a mountain of paperwork loomed precariously, threatening to bury the desk beneath it.
Akainu Sakazuki sat behind that desk, his face a granite mask of barely contained fury.
He stamped one document after another, molten heat radiating from his body in waves. The room grew hotter by the second, as though the air itself had caught fire.
Paper after paper. Report after report. It never ended.
When was Sengoku coming back?
"Bang!"
The door slammed open. Several Marines stumbled in, arms trembling under stacks of files taller than their heads.
"A-Admiral Akainu, sir..." one stammered.
Sakazuki's head lifted slowly. His eyes narrowed. "What is it?"
"A message from the Fleet Admiral's aide," the man stuttered. "He... he ordered that all the remaining work from his office be brought here, for you to handle."
"... "
"...???"
"...!!!"
Sakazuki froze. His jaw clenched as he repeated the words, each syllable sharp as a knife.
"Sengoku... went to G-3?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Leave."
"Yes, sir!"
They practically fled, grateful to escape the suffocating heat filling the room.
The door shut. Silence fell.
Sakazuki sat motionless, a volcano on the verge of eruption.
His gaze turned toward the window, to the far-off horizon where the sea met the sky.
G-3... Hawk... Skylark... and Sengoku, that damned old fox.
Hawk had only just taken command of G-3. And Sakazuki hadn't even had a chance to check on Skylark himself.
Now Sengoku was running there ahead of him leaving Sakazuki drowning in paperwork.
"Snort."
Steam burst from his nostrils, twin jets of heat cutting through the air. His chest rose and fell like a furnace.
No. He refused to shoulder all of this alone.
Sengoku had abandoned his post. Fine. But the Navy Headquarters had more than one Admiral.
His mind instantly conjured the image of a certain colleague: lazy, perpetually grinning, always pretending that everything was too much trouble.
Borsalino.
Old friend. Fellow islander. Companion of decades.
If there was hardship, they would share it. If there was suffering, they would endure it together.
Sakazuki's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
He reached for the Den Den Mushi.
"Relay my order," he growled. "Effective immediately, Admiral Borsalino is to suspend all duties, abandon every mission, and cut short any leave. He has one hour to report back to Marineford."
"He will return here. And he will help me process these damn documents."
"Click."
The line went dead.
Sakazuki leaned back, eyes burning with molten rage.
Let the storm come. Let it pour.
This time, he would not be drenched alone.
Somewhere out there, Kizaru surely sneezed.
"I still have time to disown this friendship, don't I?" he muttered to himself, already dreading what was to come.
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