Waves crashed against the hull as the warship cut across the sea. Sengoku stood tall at the prow, fists clenched, silent as a statue carved in stone. The sea breeze whipped his cloak, the word "Justice" emblazoned on the back snapping like a battle standard in the wind.
Beside him, Tsuru stood quietly, her gaze fixed on the endless horizon.
Neither of them spoke. The air between them was heavy, thick with a sense of inevitability like the weight of history about to shift course.
In front of Renn Hawk, they had spoken casually of their grand plan, as though it were just another matter of logistics. But both Sengoku and Tsuru knew the truth. Every step of this strategy teetered on the edge of a blade.
How could they hope to conceal something this monumental from the all-seeing eyes of the World Government? Even if the gold was stored and converted at G-3 Branch, the risk remained staggering. The spies of Cipher Pol were everywhere, like shadows in every corner of the seas. The Navy would inevitably shoulder pressure the likes of which it had never endured before.
Yet, if justice was to break free from the chains of gold and politics, if it was to truly stand independent... then it was worth everything.
"...Sengoku."
It was Tsuru who finally broke the silence. "About the five elite vice admirals stationed permanently at G-3..."
Sengoku gave a faint nod, though his eyes never left the waves ahead.
"With G-5 requiring its own redeployment of elite vice admirals... pulling five of our sharpest blades from Headquarters to fortify G-3 will cost us dearly."
He exhaled slowly, and a wry smile tugged at his lips.
"But it's manageable. Kuzan has cast aside his doubts and fully resumed his duty as admiral. That lightens Headquarters' burden considerably. And with this fortune at our disposal, even Borsalino will stir from his laziness if the bonus is large enough. As long as we can weather the early storm, things will turn in our favor."
Tsuru listened, but said nothing further. She knew Sengoku's thoughts stretched beyond budgets, beyond garrisons. He had been silent since they boarded, like a dormant volcano, his fury and resolve tightly bound beneath the surface.
And then his tone shifted cold, absolute.
"Tsuru. To ensure not a whisper of this reaches the World Government... I'll be having a word with Sakazuki. This time, the vice admirals stationed at G-3..." His eyes hardened like steel. "...will all be chosen from the hawks."
Tsuru's eyes widened. Her pupils contracted sharply.
All hawks? Every single one?
This wasn't "protection" anymore. This was surrounding G-3 with an unyielding wall of blades. Anyone who dared to intrude whether pirate, spy, or agent of the World Government itself would be cut down without mercy. Even the Cipher Pol operatives would find themselves erased.
It was nothing less than drawing a line across the seas: a forbidden zone, claimed openly as the Navy's alone.
Her gaze slid to Sengoku's profile. His features were granite-hard, unwavering. Softly, almost in a whisper, she asked:
"Sengoku... in your heart, you already have your answer, don't you?"
Just one word came, but it carried the weight of decades.
Yes.
His mind drifted back across the years back before Gol D. Roger ushered in this age of chaos, through every bloody chapter since. He had borne witness to families shattered, to civilians screaming in hopeless terror as pirates pillaged their lives.
This sea could not be allowed to fester in endless disorder.
But was it truly the pirates alone who bore the blame?
Yes... and no.
The World Government, drunk on its own power, shared that guilt. They sanctioned the Warlords. They turned a blind eye to the Celestial Dragons' atrocities. They preached "balance" as an excuse to preserve a rotting order. And the Navy... was nothing more than their obedient hound.
If the so-called gods refused to bring true peace... If the so-called leaders only tightened chains of oppression... Then he, Sengoku the Buddha, would bear the burden.
He would be the one to lead the Navy down a new road.
A road of defiance.
A road where justice itself would rise against its master.
A road paved in blood and steel, carved open for the sake of a future unshackled.
And Renn Hawk the young man who had delivered the gold, who had brought hope was the spark. The flame destined to ignite that path.
Until that spark grew into a raging inferno, Sengoku, the weary old general, would shield him from every storm and crush every obstacle in his way.
Tsuru studied him quietly. From his clenched fists, from the trembling in his shoulders, she felt the weight of rage suppressed for half a lifetime. Gently, she laid a hand on his arm.
"You won't be fighting alone, old man."
For all the horrors of the Great Pirate Era, the Navy was not what it once was. Freed from the invisible leash of the World Government, its strength would surge beyond imagination. Because true power was never written in numbers on a ledger. It came from conviction.
And conviction could break the world.
Even as that thought settled in her mind, Tsuru's eyes sharpened. Gold would not last forever. If Sengoku's vision was to succeed, the Navy would need a steady stream of resources, a way to sustain itself without outside chains. She would find a way.
Click.
Sengoku drew a Den Den Mushi from his coat. The snail's eyes blinked awake.
"Buru buru buru..."
The line was picked up instantly.
"Supreme order from the Fleet Admiral." Sengoku's voice rang out like a hammer, full of command.
"Notify every admiral and senior officer. Return to Headquarters immediately. No delays."
The storm had already begun.
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