"Oh, this thing…"
Nao raised an eyebrow and opened the folder.
As expected, the first thing that greeted his eyes on page one was a bold, black three-character title:
"PROMOTION ORDER"
"...Upon receiving the joyful news that Mr. Natsuya Nao has chosen to return to Headquarters, and after evaluation and discussion by the World Government's Highest Council—
Considering his illustrious battle merits, brilliant record, and world-renowned prestige—
The assessment concludes that he fully meets the qualifications to serve as an Admiral of Marine Headquarters…"
"Thus, after review by the Five Elders and acknowledgement by Marine Headquarters, a unanimous decision has been reached to approve the following appointment:"
"Hereby appoint former Admiral Candidate Natsuya Nao as Admiral of Marine Headquarters, codename: White Dragon."
"This appointment takes effect on the day this document is issued."
"Sea Circle Calendar, May 12, Year 1510."
"World Government Highest Council (Seal)"
"Commander-in-Chief of the Three Military Powers, Kong (Seal)"
…
The document was beautifully bound and grandly formatted.
Alongside the vivid red stamps at the bottom, the top even featured a three-dimensional embossed emblem of the World Government flag.
Truly ceremonial.
It wasn't just a promotion order—it was practically a trophy, something meant to be placed in a glass display case.
"'Joyful news,' huh."
Nao curled his lip. Seeing Nami tiptoeing curiously to peek at it, he casually stuffed the document into her arms.
"Here. Go play with it."
"Thank you, Daddy!!"
Nami had already been eyeing that embossed symbol for a while. She grabbed the file and immediately ran off to see how she could pry the emblem off and play with it.
"Hey! Brat! That's an Admiral promotion order!"
Sengoku scolded, then sighed helplessly.
Unbelievable… aside from that old fossil Garp, only this kid would treat an Admiral promotion like scrap paper.
"Oh, right—there's also the ceremony."
"Ceremony? What ceremony?"
"Your promotion ceremony, of course."
Sengoku said, "Normally, an Admiral promotion is held formally on the plaza. But given your… special status, Headquarters plans to make this one even more extravagant."
"No need." Nao frowned. "A major war is coming. Preparing for battle is more important. I'm not the type who cares about this sort of thing…"
"I know you don't care."
Sengoku cut him off.
"But don't forget—with your fame and prestige, countless soldiers have been hoping for your return. A grand ceremony will boost morale across the entire Marine."
Well… he did have a point.
Nao thought for a moment, then nodded indifferently.
"Fine. Do it your way. I'll cooperate. Trouble you with it, Sengoku-san."
"It's my duty—no trouble at all."
Sengoku smiled, gathered the remaining documents, and casually walked deeper into Nao's courtyard.
"Hey hey hey—what are you doing?" Nao quickly blocked him, confused.
"You said you weren't here to freeload dinner!"
"Ahem—well, it's a special occasion. Since you finally came back, I figured I'd invite your father for a drink to celebrate."
The rich smell of simmering beef stew wafted from the kitchen. Sengoku's face didn't budge.
"Garp will be coming later too. Don't worry—we brought our own beef this time. A whole thirty kilos."
Nao rolled his eyes.
So it really IS because you miss my mom's cooking. Shameless old geezers…
…
That night, the whole family gathered, drinking and laughing, enjoying a lively and satisfying reunion.
And at dawn the next morning—
The grandest Admiral promotion ceremony in the entire history of Marine Headquarters was held on the plaza before the fortress of Marineford.
Tens of thousands of elite Marines witnessed the entire event.
After Sengoku publicly announced the promotion order, Nao stepped up the platform under countless gazes of admiration.
He received a brand-new white "Justice" cloak and stepped into the ranks of the Admirals, taking the vacant seat as Sengoku personally affixed the golden Admiral epaulettes onto his shoulders.
Admiral epaulettes were all gold—but the sleeve colors differed:
Akainu's were red.
Aokiji's were blue.
And Nao's were a soft, silvery white.
Matched with his white suit underneath, his tall figure and unparalleled handsome features shone even more dazzlingly.
Doing nothing—simply standing there casually—was enough to make it impossible for anyone to look away.
By comparison…
Akainu and Aokiji, who stood on the two sides of the platform with him, appeared noticeably overshadowed.
"I really regret agreeing to that old man Sengoku…"
Aokiji muttered under his breath, in a voice only the three Admirals could hear.
"Too long without seeing you in uniform… I'd forgotten how disgustingly handsome you are in one. I shouldn't have come to stand beside you. Next to you, no matter how I look—I just look pathetic…"
Nao couldn't even be bothered to respond.
Akainu shot Aokiji a sideways glance. His normally severe, gloomy face twitched at the corner of his mouth… just slightly.
...
That very day—
The news that White Dragon Nao had returned to the Marine, formally taken the position of Admiral, and would participate in the upcoming Summit War, was spread across the world at unprecedented speed—
pushed deliberately by both the Marine and the World Government.
The entire world erupted in an instant!
From the first half of the Grand Line to the New World, from East Blue to North Blue—
newspapers fluttered everywhere.
Public attention was so intensely focused on Nao's return that it completely overwhelmed all previous discussions about the war. It became the topic of every street and alley.
And perhaps to counter the Marine's propaganda assault, the Pirate Alliance of the New World soon reacted.
The Whitebeard Pirates released a statement:
"The alliance forces have finished gathering and are currently undergoing final integration.
Once this process completes, we will immediately launch a thunderous assault on Marine Headquarters and completely shatter their delusional plan of ending the Great Pirate Era!"
Global attention instantly returned to the war itself.
After all, this war was destined to shape the future of the world—no one could ignore it.
And now, a single question remained…
When would the war begin?
Marine Headquarters soon provided the answer.
On May 23rd, three days after the Admiral promotion ceremony, the Marine officially announced that on June 1st at 9 a.m., they would publicly execute a group of Impel Down prisoners.
The list wasn't long, but every single one was a high-profile criminal.
Among the ten-plus pirates, even the lowest bounty was 50 million Berries.
All of them were deeply tied to factions involved in the Pirate Alliance.
Among them were six members of the Whitebeard Pirates, captured during scattered battles in the New World.
Leading the group was—
4th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates: Thatch!
The world erupted once more.
Everyone knew that Whitebeard cherished his crew deeply—he regarded every subordinate as his own child, not to be harmed by anyone.
And the Marine was now announcing the execution of six of his direct subordinates—
including a division commander!
Whitebeard would absolutely not allow this to happen.
This meant that no matter how rushed the Pirate Alliance's preparations were, no matter how poorly integrated their forces remained, they were forced to engage early—
and even worse, forced to abandon home-field advantage and attack Marineford head-on!
...
New World — Aboard the Moby Dick.
"The Marine wants to broadcast Thatch's execution live to the whole world?"
Marco slammed his fist into the mast, teeth clenched.
"Damn it! They're giving us a final deadline—forcing us to launch the attack first!"
"Sengoku's open scheme…"
Whitebeard held the newspaper in one hand and a sake bottle in the other, eyes narrowed as he spoke in a deep voice.
"Just don't fall for it."
A cold voice came from the side—Kaido.
"Don't forget, old man Whitebeard, what I said before. The bigger picture comes first. If we lose this war, it'll be the end for pirates across the entire world."
"If the Marine wants to execute them, let them. We stick to the original plan—start from G-1 and tear down every Marine branch one by one. They have territory they must defend. We don't have that burden!"
"What did you just say!?"
"You're saying to abandon Thatch and the others? Are you kidding!?"
"Bastard! Say that again if you dare!"
The Whitebeard crew on the Moby Dick erupted in fury.
Diamond Jozu rolled up his sleeves, eyes fierce, clearly ready to pummel Kaido into the deck if he didn't take those words back.
"Hmph…"
Kaido sneered, too lazy to even acknowledge them.
He lifted his gourd, took a long drink, wiped his mouth, then cast a sideways glance at Whitebeard.
"Old man Whitebeard, you're not stupid. You wouldn't have swallowed your pride and teamed up with me otherwise. You should know what matters most."
"I know very well."
Whitebeard said quietly, eyelids lowering, deep wrinkles on his brow etched into shadow by the dusk.
"Pops!"
"Don't listen to his nonsense!"
Marco and the others were horrified, but Whitebeard raised a hand, stopping them.
"What matters most?" Whitebeard looked at Kaido—and suddenly grinned. "You really need me to answer that for you? Kaido, brat."
"In this world, nothing is more important than my sons—my comrades! Gurarararara!"
He roared with laughter, stood up with his naginata in hand, and gazed toward the sinking sun.
In his eyes burst a fierce fighting spirit not seen in years.
"Pass down my order. Everyone rest well tonight. At first light tomorrow—we set sail for Marineford! Before that execution begins, we will rescue Thatch and the others!"
"Yes, Pops!"
A thunderous response shook the Moby Dick.
In a corner, Kaido spat, cursing under his breath, "Crazy old man," before tilting his head back and chugging more liquor.
No one noticed—
Beneath his drunken, flushed face, behind the gourd, his eyes burned with a blazing fire—
a battle mania so intense it hadn't surfaced in decades.
…
Time passed, day by day.
As both sides deployed forces of growing scale, the shadow of war spread across the entire Grand Line.
Even people who normally paid no attention to world affairs could feel it—the oppressive, suffocating tension in the air.
As if dark clouds pressed upon the city…
thunder rumbling overhead…
a storm about to break.
…
June 1st — early morning.
As dawn broke in the east, beneath the towering Marine Headquarters fortress—
From a single glance, the sea was filled with white sails—
over a hundred Marine warships amassed in formation, arranged in wing-shaped arcs to guard the bay.
The sight was magnificent and overwhelming.
Along the entire coastline of the fortress, colossal cannons were lined up densely, their dark muzzles aimed toward the horizon with frightening menace.
But the most terrifying thing wasn't the massive fleet,
nor the forest of heavy artillery like an iron wall.
It was the people.
A sea of white uniforms filled the entire plaza—so many that even from the sky, one could not see the end of the crowd.
A full 150,000 elite Marines, each wearing the white "Justice" coat, stood silent and disciplined.
This meant that even the "lowest" person present was at least an officer of field grade.
In the entire history of the Marines, such a sight had never been seen before.
At the outermost edge of Crescent Bay—
Eight towering figures stood like mountains.
They were the strongest members of the Marine Giant Unit, each holding the rank of Vice Admiral!
"Stay alert!"
A middle-aged giant Vice Admiral bellowed:
"No matter what happens, only three hours remain! Everything will end by then!"
"OHHHH!!!"
A thunderous roar instantly erupted along the entire bay—
every elite Marine raised their blades high and howled in unison, a wave of sound like a tsunami.
Had Nao been present, he would have seen many familiar faces:
Hina, Cancer, Sentomaru, Smoker, T-Bone…
These young elites stood there—some biting cigars with cold expressions,
some gripping their blades with nervous anticipation or taking deep breaths to steady themselves.
Behind them, on both sides of the elevated platform, stood rows of powerful Vice Admirals, faces stern, swords drawn.
Doberman, Yamakaji, Momonga, Onigumo…
famous figures known across the world—every one present.
At the front were four figures:
the three current Admiral Candidates—Kizaru, Gion, and Chaton—
and the Marine's Chief of Staff, Tsuru.
The next moment—
Three silhouettes approached from the rear, ascending the steps.
As they stepped onto the execution platform's upper stage, the waves of shouting faded.
Countless gazes gathered upon them.
Silence fell over the plaza—
only the wind and waves remained, along with the sound of three "Justice" coats snapping in the breeze.
"Akainu" Sakazuki.
"Aokiji" Kuzan.
And—
The one regarded by all Marines as the foremost among the three,
hailed as the strongest Admiral in the history of the Marines—
"White Dragon" Nao!
Among the three:
Akainu's expression was hidden beneath his cap, his aura cold and oppressive.
Aokiji tilted his head lazily, gaze indifferent.
And Nao, standing in the center—
a confident smile played at the corner of his lips, and every Marine who met that smile felt their tension quietly melt away...
Step, step, step—
Their steady footsteps stopped on the platform.
Under countless reverent and awe-filled gazes, the three reached the top.
Three empty seats were already arranged in a row, facing the grand Crescent Bay below.