"Ara ara... Coming this way, huh?"
On the sea, Aokiji leaned lazily on his old bicycle, the sleeves of his dark blue shirt casually rolled up to his forearms, his green eye shade covering his forehead as he watched the rapidly moving Flame Cloud overhead, his voice carrying its usual drowsy tone.
"Well, if it isn't Marine Admiral Aokiji." The Flame Cloud slowly descended as Ryan stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at the Marine Admiral with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Aokiji glanced up at Ryan, his gaze beneath the eye shade sweeping over the Seven Star Sword at his waist and the peculiar Elephant Sword, his fingers lightly tapping the bicycle handlebars. "Ara ara, got business with me, kid?"
The newly appointed Seven Warlord, "Wanderer" Ryan—the man who had slain Golden Lion, dealt with Crocodile, and was deemed worthy by Hawkeye to challenge the throne—possessed abilities similar to Kaido's. A troublesome fellow indeed.
"Nothing much. Just sensed a powerful presence and came to check it out." Ryan smirked as the Flame Cloud beneath him lowered further. "But more importantly, what's a Marine Admiral doing all the way out here in Enies Lobby instead of staying at headquarters? Surely not here to fish?"
Aokiji tilted his head slightly, his expression as languid as ever. "Enies Lobby's making such a ruckus that the World Government's dignity is hanging by a thread. Of course I had to come take a look."
Ryan raised an eyebrow, then leaped down from the Flame Cloud in a flash, landing steadily on the ice before Aokiji. Meeting his gaze with a smirk, he asked, "If that's the case, then why aren't you doing anything?"
As if he didn't know—this Marine Admiral wasn't here to uphold the World Government's dignity. He was just using his position to observe Nico Robin's fate.
This was the hidden bond of "Daddy Long Legs."
"Just a bunch of brats causing trouble. Hardly worth a Marine Admiral stepping in." Aokiji didn't even bat an eye, looking down at Ryan. "Besides, isn't there a Warlord here already?"
"If it's just a bunch of brats, why should a Warlord bother either?" Ryan scoffed.
Aokiji studied Ryan for a moment. The man wasn't actually that old, yet he spoke of "brats" with the weariness of a veteran.
Just then, a series of cannon blasts echoed from the distance—deep, resonant, and carrying an air of destruction—instantly drawing both their attention.
"Tch, they sure got here fast." Ryan gazed into the distance, quickly spotting the Marine fleet speeding across the sea. A flicker of mockery flashed in his eyes. "Using a Buster Call on your own territory? The Marines sure don't hold back."
Aokiji's gaze settled on the lead warship, his brow beneath the eye shade furrowing imperceptibly.
Truthfully, the Buster Call's activation was directly tied to him—he had handed the Golden Den Den Mushi, symbolizing the Buster Call's authority, to Spandam. It was both a half-hearted execution of the World Government's orders and a "gamble" on Robin's fate.
Given Spandam's cowardly and greedy nature, once backed into a corner, he would likely resort to this last resort. But Aokiji wanted to see if the girl he had once spared from Ohara's flames and bloodshed could break free from fate's shackles once more under the World Government's relentless pursuit.
And now, things were clearly unfolding as he had anticipated.
But a Buster Call—an attack of this magnitude, meant to obliterate threats to the World Government—was now being unleashed on a group of pirates and Enies Lobby. It was overkill. Yet, as a Marine Admiral within the World Government's system, there were things he couldn't easily change, even if he disagreed.
"Ara ara..." Aokiji drawled, his tone still lazy, trying to mask the faint complexity in his heart. "Guess the World Government thinks dignity is more important than anything."
He then tilted his head slightly toward Ryan. "What about you, kid? As a Warlord, aren't you going to do something?"
"Not my problem." Ryan pulled a cigar from his pocket, bit down on it, lit it, and took a deep drag before exhaling slowly. "I'm just here to watch the show. If even a Marine Admiral isn't bothered, why should I care?"
Such high-sounding words—as if he wasn't just avoiding action. If even the Marines were holding back, why should he charge in first? Did they really think he was the World Government's lackey?
Aokiji glanced at Ryan but said nothing more. The two stood in silence, watching the distant chaos unfold.
Events played out just as in the original timeline—Enies Lobby was indiscriminately bombarded by the Buster Call, reduced to a sea of flames. Rob Lucci was defeated, the Straw Hat Kid was surrounded, and the Going Merry came riding the waves, ultimately carrying the Straw Hat Crew to safety.
Ryan crushed the spent cigar against the ice and scoffed. "The Marines really are useless, huh?"
Deploying a Buster Call with five veteran Vice Admirals, yet letting a bunch of half-dead brats slip right under their noses—who'd believe they weren't holding back?
"Ara ara... That's not quite right, kid." A hint of coldness finally seeped into Aokiji's half-lidded eyes, though his tone remained drawn-out and unbothered. "The Marines' duty is to uphold order, not chase after a bunch of brats endlessly."
"Uphold order?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, his mockery undisguised. "The kind of 'order' set by the Celestial Dragons?"
Aokiji's lazy demeanor faded slightly, his grip on the handlebars tightening. After a moment of silence, his gaze beneath the eye shade bore into Ryan's face—a mix of scrutiny and warning.
This was no longer teasing—it was a direct jab at the Marines' most sensitive sore spot.
"Ara ara..." After a long pause, Aokiji finally resumed his indifferent tone. "That's a dangerous thing to say, kid."
"Oh?" Ryan chuckled lowly at Aokiji's reaction. "Hit a nerve?"
He wasn't wrong. The Marines waved the banner of "justice" to uphold order, but at its core, they were merely maintaining the Celestial Dragons' rule. Aokiji had climbed to the top of this system—how could he not see it? If it hadn't struck a chord, why would this lazy Admiral suddenly become so guarded?
"Lazy Justice" was the struggle of the lost. It was clear from this alone how tangled and conflicted Aokiji's heart was.
"Ara ara... You've got a sharp tongue, kid." Aokiji pressed his foot against the bicycle pedal, tilting his head slightly as his gaze swept over Ryan. Then, he suddenly smirked. "Then what does that Warlord title of yours stand for?"
"Me?" Ryan scoffed, unfazed. "I never draped myself in the pretense of 'justice.' Unlike some people, who play dumb while knowing full well."
Aokiji didn't respond. Instead, he pushed off with one foot, the bicycle's tires tracing a faint white arc on the ice.
"Knowing the cage is rotten, yet too lazy to tear it down." Ryan watched Aokiji's retreating figure, the mockery in his eyes replaced by piercing clarity. "Instead, you help fix the cage door—choosing the easier path."
Aokiji's foot paused on the pedal. He looked up at the billowing smoke, the flickering flames reflected in his half-lidded eyes. After a long moment, he finally spoke, slow and deliberate. "If the cage is torn down, who'll hold up the sky when it falls?"
Ryan watched Aokiji leave, seeing no point in continuing.
Aokiji's mindset wasn't uncommon among the Marines. Sengoku, Garp, Tsuru—they all likely shared the same belief. Reforging order would come at too great a cost. Better to patch things up, maintain the world's stability, sacrifice the few for the so-called peace.
Revolution required bloodshed—not just a little, but rivers of it. The kind that would overturn the entire world.
As for the Revolutionary Army's approach... It was just old wine in a new bottle. A different group guarding the same cage. The only difference was whether they turned a blind eye or found a new way to feign sleep. Such a revolution might save people for a time, but it wouldn't free the souls trapped by "class" for generations.
"Emergency broadcast—CP9 mission failed, all members declared traitors. Highest-level arrest warrants issued—" Just as Ryan was about to turn away, the announcement blared over the speakers. His steps halted as he instantly understood—Spandam was shifting all blame onto the tools who had carried out his orders.
Thinking of the efficient secretary Kalifa, Ryan's lips curled into a meaningful smirk. Then, he turned and strode toward the blazing ruins of Enies Lobby.
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