After discussing several issues related to Mariejois with Fleet Admiral Sengoku, the elder officer's face took on a troubled look.
"To be honest," Sengoku admitted with a sigh, "when I said I was waiting for the right opportunity during this Reverie, it was partly an act of hesitation. I couldn't quite bring myself to make a definitive decision."
Diarmuid nodded; he had indeed sensed as much. It wasn't that Sengoku was suddenly wavering on whether to oppose Mariejois. His heart was firmly set on that path, or he never would have relocated the Special Science Group to the Calm Belt.
From Diarmuid's perspective, Sengoku's hesitation stemmed from a single strategic dilemma: should the Marines prioritize wiping out the pirates of the New World, or should they move first to create a substantive fracture with Mariejois?
Theoretically, the logical step would be to eliminate the pirate figureheads first, the likes of Whitebeard, Kaido, and Charlotte Linlin. Once they were gone, the Marines would have a stable landscape and could challenge Mariejois without worrying about their backs.
However, from a practical standpoint, destroying Whitebeard and the other powerful crews first might actually be disadvantageous for the Marines' political goals.
First, war always carries risk. No matter how dominant the Marines currently seem, to the point where Whitebeard and the others are forced to huddle together for warmth, the moment battle begins, the tide can turn. No one can guarantee that the ship won't capsize. What if they lost?
Of course, that wasn't the primary concern. While defeat was a possibility, it was statistically low. Diarmuid felt that unless the Marines were hit with a streak of cataclysmic bad luck, they wouldn't lose. The real issue was the cost. Winning was one thing, but how they won mattered. A drawn-out war lasting years would drain resources and might cause them to miss critical windows of opportunity.
Secondly, there was the issue of internal public opinion.
Through the constant ideological guidance of Diarmuid and his peers, high-ranking Marine officers had long since grown weary of Mariejois. Years ago, only Garp and Diarmuid dared to openly criticize the Holy Land. Garp got away with it because his "tough old dog" persona was so deeply ingrained; he was a loose cannon who would curse out a Celestial Dragon's father if he felt like it. Over the decades, Mariejois had simply "accepted" him. What could they do? The old bastard was too strong to pick a fight with. As long as he just grumbled and didn't cause actual damage, they chose to ignore him.
Diarmuid, however, was different. He didn't just hurl personal insults. His criticisms were usually aimed at Mariejois's lack of morality in their decrees, specifically the Seven Warlords of the Sea system. That was when his public dissatisfaction truly began. The consequences were clear: although he successfully secured an Admiral position, Mariejois never truly acknowledged him. For years, the Five Elders and the World Government as an institution essentially treated him as if he didn't exist.
Later, when Mariejois was forced to make concessions to the Marines, Diarmuid formally entered the Gorosei's radar. He immediately established his persona as a "Pillar of Justice"—upright, outspoken, and fearless. The Five Elders developed a love-hate relationship with him. They loved him because he got things done and was honest about their shortcomings (better than a sycophantic parasite), but they hated him because his tongue was sharp, and he would blast them for any sign of incompetence.
By now, Mariejois had grown used to it. They figured that as long as this powerful Admiral was still working for them, they could let him have his fun with words. Thus, Diarmuid enjoyed the same privilege as Garp: he could insult Mariejois to their faces, and they just had to take it.
Eventually, as Diarmuid's influence, factional strength, and personnel network grew, more Marine officers began to follow suit. While they didn't do it as publicly as the "Big Two," the underlying resentment began to accumulate. It evolved into a silent "Internal Correctness" within the Marines. Everyone was criticizing Mariejois; if you didn't, were you against the collective will of the Marines?
Coupled with Mariejois's constant talent for self-sabotage and bad decisions, the Marines found that their insults were usually justified, which only fueled the fire.
However, despite this shift in sentiment, the foundational principle of the Marines for eight hundred years has been "Justice"—maintaining peace and fighting "evil" (pirates).
Herein lay the problem: If the Marines wiped out the Yonko and brought true peace to the New World before breaking with Mariejois, a "mission accomplished" feeling would sweep the ranks. Officers and soldiers would feel they had fulfilled their duty of justice. They would want to relax, take vacations, and enjoy the era of peace.
In such a stable environment, if the Marine leadership suddenly decided to turn on Mariejois, it would trigger a massive internal rift.
We just beat the pirates! Peace is finally here! Mariejois isn't GREAT, but is it worth starting a NEW war over? Why create more chaos when we finally have stability? This doesn't align with our values of peace!
Such a reaction would be almost inevitable.
Conversely, having the looming threat of Whitebeard and the other pirate forces actually favors a split from Mariejois. The leadership can frame the narrative around Imu. They can argue: "We would have wiped out the pirates years ago if Mariejois hadn't constantly undermined us and lowered the moral bar. We finally figured out why they are so corrupt, it's because of Imu, the mastermind plotting to rule the world from the shadows!"
"We must deal with Mariejois first so they stop holding us back, and then we can finish off those pirate bastards to achieve true world peace."
To borrow a phrase: "To repel the foreign foe, one must first stabilize the interior."
This narrative would be far easier for the lower-level officers and rank-and-file soldiers to swallow psychologically.
Sengoku's hesitation was born from not knowing if he could truly control this volatile situation. And thirdly, before Diarmuid brought this "dirt" on Mariejois to light, Sengoku didn't have a solid entry point. He was hoping the Reverie would provide a breakthrough.
Finally, after a series of intense deliberations, Diarmuid spoke with conviction:
"Hesitation only leads to disaster. Everything that needs to be prepared is ready. I believe we should turn against Mariejois first. Break away, reshape the purity of our Justice, and then turn our guns on the pirates. The contrast will be undeniable: under Mariejois's thumb, we could never stabilize the New World; the moment we left them, we succeeded. That visual impact is invaluable for our early legitimacy."
Sengoku frowned. "You make sense, but a break will cause a violent reaction from Mariejois. Will that retaliation interfere with our war against the pirates? We might find ourselves facing a two-front war against both the Holy Land and the pirate scum."
Diarmuid's lips curled into a grin. "Then I believe it is necessary for us to strike Mariejois first..."
"What do you mean?" Sengoku asked after a moment of silence.
"Imu must be taken down; that is the flag we will rally behind. Then, the legal authority of the Gorosei, Imu's lapdogs in this conspiracy, must be destroyed. Next, the Celestial Dragons themselves. As the 'keys' to the Ancient Weapon that could destroy the world, they must be eliminated for the sake of world peace. They have brought nothing but resentment to the world; for Justice, they must go. Once these targets are neutralized, Mariejois will be paralyzed. We will have all the time we need to handle the fallout."
Sengoku pondered this for a long time before looking at Diarmuid. "So, your plan is: strike Mariejois first, decapitate the leadership to paralyze their system, and while they are in chaos, turn our focus to wiping out the New World pirates. Once the external threat is gone, we use the momentum of that great victory to rally the nations, contact the world, and rebuild a new system from the ruins of Mariejois?"
"That's exactly what I mean," Diarmuid nodded.