The corner of Sengoku's mouth twitched as he watched Borsalino put on that infuriatingly sincere, regretful face. He sighed to himself, resigned.
The bastard was aggravating. Every time he opened his mouth, Sengoku felt an urge to strangle him. And yet, when it came to getting things done, Borsalino was dependable.
His true strength was still a black box. With the Glint-Glint Fruit's natural advantages, his mobility bordered on absurd, and his killing power was terrifyingly clean.
Zephyr had always scolded him for leaning too hard on his Devil Fruit, but even that criticism carried a begrudging admission: the man was dangerous.
They'd never truly pushed Borsalino to the edge, but Sengoku had no doubt. In his current state, the man was more than qualified to sit in the seat of Marine Headquarters Admiral.
And his record was spotless.
Top graduate of the first Elite Officer Training Camp class at Headquarters. Senior, in a sense, even to Sakazuki and Dragon. Among the younger generation of "monsters," he was the most seasoned.
More importantly, he was one of the few officers the World Government still considered reliable. Promoting him now wasn't just about ability—it was politics. It was also self-preservation.
"Besides…" Sengoku murmured, fatigue and a faint bitterness flickering behind his eyes, "that seat has been empty for too long."
Once, the Marines had been glorious.
He and Zephyr as Admirals, with Garp—Vice Admiral in name, Admiral in everything but the paperwork—fighting across the seas under Fleet Admiral Kong. The three of them had been called the Marines' cornerstones. Rivals, friends, blades drawn toward the same horizon. They competed, they clashed, and they respected each other's convictions.
And now?
Zephyr had turned his back on the Marines, raising the so-called NEO Marines and becoming an enemy of both the World Government and the organization he'd once served, all in pursuit of his own Justice.
Garp had vanished the moment the Roger Pirates disbanded—probably off somewhere on an endless "vacation," that damned fool.
And him?
The Government's trust was slipping through his fingers. The Marines were strained to the breaking point, and he was trying to hold the whole structure upright with his bare hands. Exhausted. Constantly reacting. Constantly cleaning up messes.
Even the Shichibukai could waltz through Marine defenses and spit arrogance in their faces.
The thought twisted a knife of irritation deeper into Sengoku.
Maybe Borsalino wasn't wrong. If Darren were here, the Marines wouldn't be forced to swallow this kind of humiliation. At the very least, the Shichibukai wouldn't dare act this brazen.
But Sengoku wasn't Darren.
Darren could move on impulse, torching consequences and calling it strategy. Sengoku didn't have that luxury. He couldn't afford recklessness.
Still…
Sengoku's eyes narrowed, his voice turning cold.
"Sneaking through the cordon is one thing. But boarding my battleship without so much as a greeting is another."
He turned, gaze lifting toward the mast.
A golden-haired youth perched there with legs crossed, a pink feathered coat draped over him like a gaudy banner.
"…Doflamingo."
The name cut cleanly through the sea wind.
All across the deck, Marines snapped to attention, faces paling as they followed Sengoku's line of sight.
"That's—"
"Donquixote Doflamingo!"
"One of the Shichibukai… the 'Heavenly Demon'!"
"He boarded the flagship?!"
"When did that happen?!"
A ripple of shock ran through the crew.
High above them, Doflamingo let out a lazy, arrogant chuckle. Sunlight caught in his blond hair, turning it into something like a crown.
"As expected of a Marine Admiral. You noticed right away," he drawled, grinning. "But I've heard some rather interesting news myself."
His gaze slid past Sengoku to the man behind him, and his smile widened.
"So… should I congratulate you in advance? The new Marine Admiral."
Borsalino shrugged, all teeth.
"Congratulations should be coming from me, Doffy."
"Enough."
Sengoku's temper finally snapped. He cut them off with a sharp edge in his voice.
"Doflamingo. What do you want?"
His eyes hardened.
"Or should I address you more properly as… Vice Commander?"
On deck, Marines who had begun to reach for their rifles froze mid-motion.
An uneasy hush spread.
As the flagship's crew, they knew more than most—especially about the inauguration ceremony at Mary Geoise. They knew a Commander of the Knights of God would be appointed.
They also knew a Vice Commander would be named.
But none of them had imagined the candidate could be Donquixote Doflamingo.
A pirate. A Shichibukai.
Unless…
A sickening possibility surfaced in their minds.
Could it be that Doflamingo's true identity was that of a World Noble? A Celestial Dragon?
"Heh heh heh… no need for that," Doflamingo said, laughing low, eyes gleaming as he watched the wave of tension ripple beneath him. "I haven't officially taken the position yet, Admiral Sengoku."
He spread his hands as if it were all a misunderstanding.
"I was passing by. Thought I'd say hello. Don't get so tense," he said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "We'll have plenty of chances to work together in the future."
Sengoku ground his teeth and refused to respond.
At that moment, an official vessel bearing the World Government's cross-shaped emblem glided into view with practiced smoothness. A graceful figure stood at its bow—masked, fox-faced, smiling faintly.
"Excellency Doflamingo," the figure said, voice calm. "It's nearly time. Please proceed to Pangaea Castle immediately."
Doflamingo spared the newcomer a glance and sneered.
"Let those five old fossils wait a little longer. Are they that impatient now that they're aging?"
Behind the fox mask, Stussy shook her head.
"These are direct orders from the Gorosei, Excellency. You must arrive at Pangaea Castle as soon as possible. The higher-ups have… matters they wish to discuss with you beforehand."
Doflamingo's eyes narrowed. The air tightened.
Then he burst into laughter again, manic and sharp.
"Heh heh heh… can't be helped, I suppose."
His gaze tilted down toward Sengoku, amusement curdling into something colder.
"In that case, we'll continue this another time, Admiral Sengoku."
Sengoku's fist clenched. He held himself still, then said flatly, "Doflamingo. As a Marine Admiral, I'll give you one warning."
"Taking the position of Vice Commander of the Knights of God is not a wise choice."
"Oh?" Doflamingo arched a brow, amused. "And who, exactly, still has the nerve to cross me?"
Sengoku's smile was thin as a blade.
"Don't forget Rogers Darren exists."
Doflamingo's laughter stopped.
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then his body snapped into motion—a blur of pink and gold shooting skyward.
In seconds, he was gone over the Red Line.
Sengoku exhaled through his nose, a grim satisfaction flickering in him.
So Darren's name still carried weight.
But when he turned back, he found the CP0 agent in the fox mask watching him with a strange glint in her eyes.
To be continued...