The heavy case was placed on the table with a resounding thud.
When Sengoku flipped the clasps open, a blinding golden radiance spilled forth, flooding the council chamber in a sea of light.
Every Marine officer present instinctively narrowed their eyes. The brilliance was overwhelming, yet what truly made their pupils contract was not the light, but the objects themselves.
Inside the case were pure golden relics ingots and artifacts gleaming with an ancient aura, their luster almost too dazzling to gaze upon directly. The golden glow spilled over the walls, the floor, even the faces of the admirals, staining the chamber in a brilliance that felt almost unreal.
For a moment, even the strongest pillars of the Marines Admirals Sakazuki, Kuzan, Borsalino, Vice Admiral Garp, and Instructor Zephyr were stunned into silence.
Gold.
It was undeniable that gold was hard currency, a treasure coveted across every corner of the world. Yet… just one case?
The admirals exchanged looks with one another. Confusion flickered in their eyes.
Yes, this was wealth. But even gold of such purity was a drop in the ocean when it came to sustaining the massive war machine that was the Marine organization.
Could Sengoku really have gathered the entire high command, only to reveal this small chest of treasure?
The silence stretched.
Crunch.
The sound shattered the tension. Garp had leaned back in his chair, calmly chewing a rice cracker as though the chest of treasure meant nothing.
He glanced at Sengoku with a frown. "Are you kidding me, Sengoku? This pile of junk wouldn't even cover my snack bill for a month."
A ripple of amusement flickered across Zephyr's face, though his eyes remained hard. The others looked equally skeptical.
But Sengoku… smiled. It was a small, knowing smile, as though their reaction was exactly what he had expected.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, his gaze slid toward the white-haired woman seated at his side Vice Admiral Tsuru.
The two of them had already discussed how to play this hand.
Tsuru's calm voice cut through the chamber. "Don't be impatient, Garp. What you see here is merely a sample. The truth is, Marine Headquarters' Zero-Class secret vault already holds half a warehouse filled with this very gold."
Zephyr's brows furrowed deeply. "Half a warehouse? Impressive. But to sustain the Marines if we cut ties with the World Government? That's nowhere near enough."
Sengoku's eyes gleamed. He picked up the thread of the conversation, his voice deliberate, each word striking like a hammer.
"Half a warehouse," he said slowly, "is just an appetizer."
He leaned forward, letting the golden light wash over his face, before delivering the words that detonated like cannon fire in the minds of everyone present.
"Above the skies, on an island known to few… lies an entire city built of gold."
The chamber fell into stunned silence.
An entire golden city.
The statement was almost too enormous to comprehend.
Garp's chewing halted, the rice cracker frozen halfway to his mouth. His eyes bulged as though he'd just seen the heavens split open.
Zephyr's remaining fist clenched tightly, the metal of his mechanical arm creaking with strain.
And for the first time, the three Admirals Sakazuki, Kuzan, and Borsalino wore the same expression. Shock. Genuine, unfiltered shock.
Now they understood.
This was Sengoku's trump card. This was the confidence behind his bold words of rebellion.
Sengoku gave a firm nod. "And the one who discovered this, and turned it over to the Marines without hesitation… was Renn Hawk."
A heavy silence blanketed the chamber as the weight of those words sank in.
Hawk again.
The young Rear Admiral who had risen like a storm in only half a year. The one who had already become the spark setting the entire Marine order ablaze.
Sengoku continued, his tone sharp with conviction. "With this wealth wealth enough to purchase entire nations the Marines no longer need to bow before the World Government. For the first time in our history, we have the means to stand tall."
The impact of his declaration was undeniable. Heads nodded around the table.
Yes. With a golden city as their foundation, the Marines could finally speak as equals or even rivals to the Celestial Dragons and their puppet council. They finally had leverage.
But Tsuru raised three fingers, her calm presence cutting through the rush of excitement.
"There are still three critical problems," she said, pulling them back to reality.
The room quieted. Every eye focused on her.
"First: sustainability. Even a city of gold is finite. Once spent, it will vanish. The Marines need a self-sufficient source of revenue, an independent economy. Until then, it is too soon to completely break with the Government. We must bide our time, gather strength, and establish a foundation that can last centuries, not just years."
The nods around the table grew solemn. The path ahead would be long, and fraught with hidden blades.
"Second: transportation and secrecy."
Tsuru's gaze sharpened. "Marine Headquarters is too visible, too riddled with spies. We cannot house the golden city here. The G-3 Branch will become our vault. But how do we transport an entire golden city from ten thousand meters above the sea to the Grand Line without alerting the Government, or worse, the Cipher Pol agencies? That is no simple task."
Her words hung heavy.
Then a voice broke the silence.
"I'll do it."
It was Kuzan.
He sat back lazily in his chair, yet his eyes gleamed with unshakable determination.
"I'll go to Skypiea myself. I'll handle the transportation. If any insects try to spy, they'll be frozen in the depths of the sea for eternity."
The chamber exchanged glances. Sengoku met Tsuru's eyes, and both nodded in silent agreement.
Kuzan had regained his fire. He was trustworthy.
"Very well," Sengoku declared. "Kuzan, you will oversee the entire operation."
Tsuru lowered two fingers, leaving one raised.
"Third, and most vital: the defense of G-3."
Her eyes shifted toward Sakazuki.
"G-3 will become the heart of our independence. Its protection must be absolute. I propose transferring five iron-willed Vice Admirals to guard it permanently, with fleets under their command."
Sengoku's tone hardened. "And they must all be hawks. Only the ruthless, only the uncompromising. Sakazuki, what say you?"
Sakazuki understood instantly. His hawkish subordinates were merciless against evil, their justice iron-blooded. With them at G-3, no whisper of the golden city would ever leak. It would become an impregnable fortress, a black hole where secrets vanished.
He gave a curt nod. "No objections."
Then, the last admiral finally spoke.
Borsalino tilted his head, voice dragging lazily. "But if we move one admiral and five Vice Admirals out of Headquarters, won't our defenses here… become dangerously thin?"
Silence fell again.
Then, as one, every gaze in the room turned toward him. Sengoku. Tsuru. Garp. Zephyr. Sakazuki. Kuzan.
The meaning was clear.
Kuzan was busy. Sakazuki already bore the heaviest military burden. Which left…
Borsalino.
The man most infamous for shirking, slacking, and slipping away from responsibility.
His smile faltered. The lazy mask cracked. For once, the "Glint-Glint" Admiral looked nervous.
Sengoku's voice cut through the tension. "Borsalino. From this moment on, you will put aside your other duties and remain stationed at Headquarters. Every defensive deployment, every emergency response across the Grand Line and the New World falls under your command."
Borsalino's mouth opened in protest. "This workload is… quite frightening, you know…"
But Sengoku wasn't finished. He dropped the bait, sharp and irresistible.
"Double pay."
The protest froze in Borsalino's throat.
"Every successful deployment comes with a bonus," Sengoku continued. "The more you handle, the more the bonuses multiply."
The effect was instant.
Borsalino straightened in his seat, his posture suddenly crisp and professional. His eyes shone behind the sunglasses.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku," he said gravely, "you know me well. As a Headquarters Admiral, it is my sacred duty to ease your burden and serve the Marines. This responsibility… I accept without hesitation."
The silence broke, this time with a ripple of dry amusement around the table.
Even in the face of mutiny, some things never changed.
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