Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
On ordinary days, this place symbolized justice, a fortress where the air was always filled with stern discipline and killing intent.
The Marines' faces were resolute, their steps firm and powerful, as if ready at any moment to risk their lives for justice against pirates.
But today…
Marineford's entire atmosphere had completely collapsed.
If not for the iconic giant seagull emblem and the towering fortress building, the plaza would look less like a military base and more like a massive festival-themed amusement park.
There were people everywhere. Streamers everywhere and everywhere… blinding yellow.
"Hurry, hurry! That lantern is crooked! Move it a bit to the left, yes, there!"
"Hey! Straighten that banner! The words 'Congratulations on Admiral Borsalino's Promotion' must be perfectly aligned! That's a direct order from Admiral Akainu!"
"Logistics! Where's logistics?! We're out of senbei and tea! Vice Admiral Garp is stealing food again! Restock immediately!"
Thousands of Marines bustled about in the plaza, the noise reaching the skies.
At the very center stood a massive stage.
Its backdrop was not the traditional navy blue, but an extremely eye-catching, flashy… bright yellow.
It was the favorite color of the new Fleet Admiral, Borsalino, the color of light.
"…What kind of taste is this?"
A Rear Admiral who had just returned from a New World branch twitched violently at the edge of the plaza.
Looking at the sea of yellow balloons, yellow flowers, and even the red carpet had been replaced with a golden-yellow one, he felt like his eyes were about to go blind.
"Shh! Keep it down!"
A Headquarters colonel quickly covered his mouth and whispered: "This is… former Fleet Admiral Sengoku's final compromise. After all, Admiral Kizaru, uh, Fleet Admiral Borsalino, said that if it wasn't decorated to his liking, he wouldn't take the job."
"..."
The Rear Admiral was speechless. "And he just… agreed? What about the dignity of the Marines?"
"Dignity?"
The Commander pointed toward the platform nearby. "Look over there."
The Rear Admiral followed his finger, and immediately sucked in a cold breath.
On the command platform, the Marines' top combatants were displaying an incredibly bizarre yet harmonious scene.
"That flower basket! It's not symmetrical!!"
A furious roar erupted, accompanied by scorching heat waves that nearly made nearby Marines drop their pots.
Akainu, the iron-blooded soldier once most likely to become Fleet Admiral, stood there in his dark red suit. Even without his cap, his face still screamed I am extremely pissed.
Yet instead of storming off after losing the position, he had become the strictest on-site supervisor.
"The spacing between flower baskets must be precise down to the centimeter! This represents Marine discipline!"
Pointing at a basket off by about two millimeters, he roared:
"If you can't even arrange flowers properly, how can you pacify the seas?! Redo it!!"
"Yes, Admiral Akainu!"
The Marines, on the verge of tears, began measuring distances with rulers under the threat of magma.
Beside him, Aokiji appeared far more relaxed.
He lounged on a recliner, holding a glass of iced water, occasionally releasing a chill to refreeze ice sculptures that had begun melting due to Akainu's temper.
"Ahh… Sakazuki, relax a bit."
Aokiji yawned lazily.
"We're not even the main characters tomorrow. No matter how perfect this setup is, that monkey, uh, I mean Kizaru, probably won't even notice."
"Shut up, Kuzan!"
Akainu glared at him.
"If I've agreed to support him, then everything must be perfect! Even if that lazy man becomes Fleet Admiral, the Marines' image must not suffer!"
Though his words were harsh, it was clear that Akainu had already accepted reality.
In fact, now that he didn't have to be the one constantly scolded by the Five Elders and buried in paperwork, his mental state looked far better than before.
After all, Kizaru wouldn't micromanage him like Sengoku did.
Now he only needed to fight and yell at people, his dream job.
"Waa looks like you're both here~."
A slow, drawn-out voice drifted over.
The star of the show, soon-to-be Fleet Admiral Kizaru, walked over with hands in his pockets, his signature laid-back swagger.
He was clearly well-dressed for the occasion.
His yellow-and-white striped suit was perfectly pressed, his tinted glasses polished, even his stubble neatly trimmed.
Most eye-catching of all, He was already wearing the oversized Fleet Admiral cloak with the word "Justice" on it.
…Though it dragged along the ground, kicked forward with every step, making him look anything but dignified.
"Borsalino!!"
Seeing his sloppy posture, Akainu's veins bulged again.
"Lift your cloak! That's a symbol of justice, not a mop!!"
"Oh my Sakazuki, how scary~."
Kizaru shrank back slightly, looking innocent.
"This cloak is too heavy. I still think the Admiral cloak is more comfortable~."
"Then take it off and give it to me!!" Akainu roared.
"That won't do~."
Kizaru waved his hand lazily.
"This was specially instructed by Renzo-kun. He said if I don't wear it, it won't show the 'pain of being forced to work' and that wouldn't be funny~."
"…That bastard…"
At the mention of Renzo, both Akainu and Aokiji fell silent.
If not for that troublemaker at G-5 suggesting something ridiculous like rock-paper-scissors, and if not for Vice Admiral Tsuru's final decision, today's situation would never have happened.
"By the way," Aokiji asked curiously, "have you finished your inaugural speech? Tsuru said it'll be broadcast worldwide, you can't just say anything."
"Speech, huh~…"
Kizaru pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It had maybe three lines written on it.
"Already done. Should take about ten seconds to read~."
"Ten seconds?!"
Former Fleet Admiral Sengoku, who had just walked over, nearly choked.
"Borsalino! Are you trying to kill me?! The entire world is watching, and you're only going to speak for ten seconds?!"
Sengoku's appearance had also changed.
Freed from his burdens, his already white hair had somehow become even whiter.
He wore a floral shirt and held a pack of senbei, looking like a retired old man on vacation, if not for the throbbing vein on his forehead.
"Old man Sengoku, don't be so angry~."
Kizaru tucked the paper away.
"Renzo-kun said long speeches are boring. Simple and direct is more efficient~."
'Renzo again!'
Crunch! Sengoku crushed the senbei in his hand.
Ever since Renzo went to G-5, the entire Marine Headquarters had gone completely off the rails.
"Hahahaha! Sengoku, don't worry so much!"
Garp walked over laughing, holding a huge tray of donuts he had just stolen from the kitchen.
"If it's that brat Kizaru in charge, just let him do what he wants! As long as pirates get caught, it's fine! Come, have a donut and relax!"
"I'm not eating that! Those are for tomorrow's banquet!"
"Ah, what's the big deal? Just have that Rehn guy buy more. I heard G-5 is so rich now even the floors are made of gold!"
At the mention of G-5 and gold, nearby Vice Admirals perked up their ears.
"Hey, did you hear? This time G-5 isn't just sending an Admiral, they're bringing an entire ship of gold as a gift!"
"Seriously? A whole ship?!"
"Absolutely! My friend in logistics said their ship is almost here, the draft alone is terrifying!"
"Man… we used to think getting assigned to G-5 was a punishment. Now it sounds like paradise!"
"I want to transfer there too… I heard the pay is high, bonuses are frequent, and as long as you don't disturb the Admiral's sleep, no one bothers you!"
This wave of envy spread rapidly across the plaza.
The once-feared G-5 Branch had, under Renzo's "management," become a holy land in the eyes of Headquarters Marines.
"Hmph! Degeneracy!"
Akainu snorted coldly, stomping the ground and silencing the area instantly.
"The Marines stand for justice, not money!"
Even so… his gaze couldn't help drifting toward the harbor.
That brat…
Annoying as he was, it was undeniable, since Renzo stirred up chaos in the New World, pirate activity had been significantly suppressed.
BIG MOM's retreat.
Blackbeard's downfall.
And the disappearance of that so-called "Golden Emperor."
The results spoke for themselves.