At Marineford, headquarters of the Marines, the great fortress stood beneath a sky as clear as polished steel.
The massive Marine emblem of Justice hung proudly above the plaza, its seagull symbol spreading its wings across the world.
Inside Fleet Admiral Sengoku's office, silence lingered.
Sengoku sat behind his desk, deep in thought.
The recent news from East Blue had thrown the entire headquarters into confusion.
The appearance of the Red Hair Pirates in East Blue alone was already unusual.
But what followed was even more unbelievable.
A Marine officer stationed in East Blue had fought them head-on.
And the battle had ended with Shanks withdrawing.
Sengoku stared at the photograph placed on his desk.
Although the image had been taken during a violent storm and was somewhat blurred, the scene was unmistakable.
A lone Marine officer stood amid the crashing waves, sword raised toward Shanks himself.
The officer was none other than Saint Roselith Seraphina.
Sengoku rubbed his temple.
"…What in the world is going on?"
That Celestial Dragon girl was shattering his expectations again and again.
The Red Hair Pirates had been extremely active recently.
And not just anywhere.
They were operating in the New World, the most dangerous sea in existence.
A place where monsters gathered.
For a pirate crew to thrive there meant only one thing.
They were incredibly powerful.
Yet now
One of their confrontations had ended in a retreat against a Marine officer stationed in East Blue.
Had that girl already grown this strong?
"Sengoku."
The office door suddenly opened.
The Marine Headquarters' Great Staff Officer, Tsuru, walked in quickly.
Without hesitation, she slammed a newspaper onto the desk.
The headline was enormous.
"Marine Captain Battles Red-Haired Shanks Emperor-Level Pirate Forced to Withdraw!"
Another headline followed.
"If an East Blue Captain can achieve such feats, what are the Marines at Headquarters doing?"
And another.
"The Hidden Relationship Between Marineford and the Red Hair Pirates?"
Sengoku and Tsuru stared at the article.
Neither spoke for a moment.
The newspapers were clearly trying to stir controversy.
If a Marine stationed in the weakest sea could challenge a pirate worth more than a billion berries, then what did that say about the Marines stationed at headquarters?
Sengoku sighed heavily.
"…Seraphina cannot remain a mere Captain."
Tsuru nodded calmly.
"Agreed."
Sengoku thought for a moment.
"Let's promote her directly to Rear Admiral."
Tsuru raised an eyebrow.
"That might be too fast."
"Rear Admirals usually serve at headquarters."
"And promotions to that rank normally require returning to Marineford."
Sengoku frowned.
"That's the problem."
Tsuru tapped the newspaper thoughtfully.
"Then make her a Commodore."
"If she remains a Captain, the public will start questioning the competence of the Rear Admirals."
Sengoku considered it.
"Commodore…"
Tsuru continued.
"And officially appoint her as the Marine Commander of East Blue."
"That way we can justify the promotion to the World Government."
Sengoku finally nodded.
"…Alright."
"That should calm the situation."
Then Tsuru suddenly asked another question.
"Sengoku… have you considered recalling her to Marineford?"
Sengoku immediately shook his head.
"That wouldn't be wise."
"She's still a Celestial Dragon."
His voice carried a trace of frustration.
Many Celestial Dragons were arrogant tyrants.
Sengoku despised their behavior.
But the reality of the world remained.
The Marines depended on funding approved by the World Government.
Keeping the Celestial Dragons from interfering too much was already the best outcome he could manage.
Tsuru folded her arms.
"But does she really behave like one?"
Sengoku paused.
Earlier that day, he had spoken with Monkey D. Garp.
Garp had asked him something strange.
"Did you people really send that monster to East Blue?"
"And if you did… isn't that a waste?"
Sengoku blinked.
"…How does Garp know about her?"
Tsuru sighed.
"They fought."
"In Garp's hometown."
Sengoku stared at her.
"Of course they did…"
Tsuru recalled Garp's evaluation.
"Seraphina?"
"She's not like those bubble-headed idiots."
Garp had said it bluntly.
Tsuru trusted Garp's judgment.
They had fought side by side for decades.
Even though his family had produced the world's most dangerous criminal.
That, however, was another matter entirely.
Meanwhile
Far away in the New World.
A massive ship cut through the waves.
The legendary flagship of the Whitebeard Pirates.
The Moby Dick.
"Gurararara!"
A thunderous laugh echoed across the deck.
The man sitting on the massive chair was over six meters tall.
His enormous body was covered in battle scars.
And beneath his nose curved a massive crescent-shaped white mustache.
The strongest man in the world.
Edward Newgate, better known as Whitebeard.
"Red Hair, that brat…"
Whitebeard held a newspaper in his hand.
"Today is worth celebrating!"
"Marco!"
"Prepare a banquet!"
Standing nearby was the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Marco.
Marco sighed.
"Pops… a banquet is fine."
"But maybe drink a little less alcohol."
Whitebeard's health had been worsening over the years.
Decades of battles had left countless hidden injuries.
His clashes with legendary figures like Monkey D. Garp, Sengoku, and the Pirate King had taken their toll.
Marco had been quietly searching for ways to help him recover.
He had even heard rumors of a strange doctor on Drum Island.
Perhaps she could help.
"Marco!"
Whitebeard glared dramatically.
"A man cannot live without alcohol!"
"It is the joy of life!"
Marco shook his head.
"Pops."
"No."
Whitebeard's face twisted in exaggerated suffering.
"…You're cruel."
Meanwhile, somewhere on the open sea.
A small coffin-shaped boat drifted across the water.
A man sat calmly inside it.
He wore a dark red patterned shirt beneath a long black coat.
On his back rested an enormous cross-shaped sword.
His golden eyes were sharp as a hawk's.
The world's greatest swordsman.
Dracule Mihawk.
Mihawk silently read the same newspaper.
"East Blue…"
"A Marine Captain…"
"…and Shanks."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Shanks."
"Have you truly grown weaker since losing your left arm?"
Or…
His gaze moved toward the photograph.
The woman in the image stood defiantly in the storm.
Her sword pointed directly at Shanks.
The blade glowed with a deep blue sheen.
Elegant patterns ran along its length.
Even through the blurry photograph, Mihawk could sense it.
This was no ordinary sword.
His eyes sharpened further.
"…A great swordsman?"
JOIN MY PATREON TO READ 30+ CHAPTERS BEFORE PUBLIC RELEASE OR PURCHASE THE BOOK FOR LIFETIME ACCESS!
WE ARE CURRENTLY ON CHAPTER 73 ON PATREON.
Patreon.com/HACKDWORLD