The colossal, pitch-black battleship cruised through the sky like a roaming whale, holding a steady course at an even speed.
Gion, Tokikake, Yamakaji, and the other Marine officers stood on deck, leaning against the rail as the sea wind washed over them. Their faces were easy, almost carefree.
It wasn't their first time "sailing" in the air, but the thrill never really dulled. Looking down on that endless ocean still punched awe straight into the chest.
Humans had always yearned for the sky.
Even if they weren't truly flying, standing above the world like this—watching the sea shrink into a vast, living map—was enough to make the blood run hot.
Gather intel. Strike fast. Erase the target before anyone even realized they'd been found.
This newly formed elite unit—precise, disciplined, brutally effective—was already spreading the name of the NEO Marines across the New World.
Their only compass was Justice. No government leash, no member-state politics, no bureaucratic chains.
The civilians' cheers. The gratitude in their eyes. The pirates' terror when the black-cloaked battleship appeared overhead.
It was that feeling—of building Justice with their own hands, one battle at a time—that reminded them why they'd ever become Marines in the first place.
"Feels damn good," Yamakaji chuckled, a cigar clenched between his teeth. "Now I get how Darren kept the North Blue so clean."
Ever since Zephyr-sensei became the user of the Float-Float Fruit, they'd finally understood what kind of strategic weight that power carried.
Once Zephyr-sensei gained real control over it, long-distance travel between islands stopped being a voyage and became a step.
Now they could reach any battlefield at a speed the world simply wasn't built to answer.
No more arriving late and staring at empty docks while the pirates vanished into the mist.
"Justice will never be late" wasn't a slogan anymore. It was reality.
"Darren had the North Blue under control long before he built that flying fleet," Tokikake grumbled.
Yamakaji blinked. "Seriously?"
Ever since news of the North Blue Fleet had spread, he'd assumed Darren's stability came from that fleet's mobility alone.
Tokikake rolled his eyes. "Of course. Back when we went to the North Blue for that so-called 'inspection,' there wasn't even a shadow of the fleet."
He ignored the dead silence around him and cocked his head toward Gion. "Right, Gion?"
Gion folded her arms, turned sharply, and headed for the cabin, her voice cold enough to cut steel.
"How would I know anything about that bastard?"
The murderous edge in it made the deck feel a few degrees colder. Yamakaji and the others all flinched.
"Tokikake," Yamakaji leaned closer, lowering his voice, "did you piss her off again?"
Tokikake's mouth twitched. "I didn't!"
He glanced around to make sure Gion was gone, then muttered, "Hasn't she always been like that?"
Yamakaji stared at him, speechless. You really had nerve, Tokikake.
"But this isn't getting us anywhere," Tokikake sighed dramatically. "All these small fry… how long is it going to take before the name Tokikake the Genius shakes the seas?"
He sighed again, as if personally wounded by the unfairness of the world.
They'd wiped out a handful of smaller crews and their reputation was climbing fast, but it was… easy. For Marine Headquarters officers like them, even pirates with bounties over a hundred million barely registered as a real fight.
And with Zephyr—former Admiral Zephyr—leading the charge himself, there wasn't even enough prey to go around.
"I wonder when Zephyr-sensei will finally take us after the Whitebeard Pirates… the Big Mom Pirates… or the Beasts Pirates," Tokikake muttered, hanging his head like a martyr.
Yamakaji went silent.
That's not ambition. That's insanity.
Those three crews were the most formidable pirate forces on the sea. Even Marine Headquarters didn't provoke them without weighing the cost.
Not because they couldn't win—but because the price would be blood-soaked and ruinous. One wrong move and the whole world could ignite.
Suppressing pirates mattered. Protecting civilians mattered more. A war with monsters like that would set ordinary people on fire first.
A real commander had to see beyond the battlefield.
Zephyr-sensei, of all people, understood that.
"Oh—speaking of monsters," Yamakaji suddenly remembered, his voice dropping. "The latest report says the Commander of the God's Knights died on a mission."
"What?" Tokikake's eyes flew wide. "Who did it—Kaido? Whitebeard? Or Roger?!"
The Commander of the God's Knights wasn't some ordinary opponent. That was myth-tier.
Died unexpectedly? Anyone with a brain knew what that implied.
"Who else?" a low voice drawled from behind them, amused. "That kid, of course."
Tokikake and Yamakaji froze and turned.
Zephyr stood there with a cigar clamped between his teeth, strolling toward the bow. He stopped, facing the horizon, his broad back steady against the wind.
"That brat Darren…" Zephyr chuckled, and for a moment there was something unmistakably proud in his eyes. "He's really come into his own."
Tokikake clicked his tongue. "Tch. I could do that too."
Yamakaji's grin turned sharp. "You finish the medicine I gave you?"
"Yeah, almo—" Tokikake caught himself and snapped upright. "No! I don't need it!"
Yamakaji's grin widened. "Got you."
"Damn it! I'm telling the truth!" Tokikake protested, face blazing. "If I'm lying… may lightning strike me down!"
BOOM!!
The thunderclap split the sky clean open.
Tokikake yelped, dropping into a crouch and covering his head as the deck vibrated beneath them.
Yamakaji's lip twitched. So it really works?
The next instant, a streak of blue lightning tore through the air, struck the deck, and then gathered into a human shape.
"Zephyr-sensei," Momonga said as he stepped out of the fading crackle, uniform immaculate, saluting crisply.
In his hand was an extravagantly designed mechanical arm.
To be continued...