Eight months.
That was how long it took for the first half of the Grand Line to learn that there were fates significantly worse than Impel Down.
The Marine warship cut through the waters of Marineford Bay, its pristine white sails snapping in the crisp morning wind. On the bow, Light Yagami stood with his hands neatly clasped behind his back, the heavy coat of a Marine Commodore draped over his shoulders.
He was twenty-one years old, perfectly groomed, and widely considered by the pirate underworld to be a localized natural disaster.
Behind him on the deck, the daily morning routine was unfolding exactly as it had for the better part of a year. Captain T-Bone was currently on his knees, weeping tears of profound, empathetic sorrow because a passing seagull had swooped down and stolen a piece of bread from Bonney's plate.
Bonney, in response, had not wept. She had transformed her arm into its adult proportions, punched the seagull cleanly out of the sky, and was currently demanding that Corro roast the bird for an early lunch.
Light ignored them, his eyes fixed on the towering fortress of Marineford. He mentally opened his panel.
[ KARMA SYSTEM ] [ KP: 3,450,200 ]
[ LIFE FORCE Lv.5 — Next: 300,000 KP ]
[ WEAPON ARTS Lv.5 (MAX) ]
[ OBSERVATION Lv.2 — Next: 1,500,000 KP ] [ ARMAMENT Lv.2 — Next: 1,500,000 KP ] [ CONQUEROR'S Lv.0 — Next: 1,000,000 KP ]
(Rokushiki MAX)
The harvest had been bountiful. Over the past eight months, Light had systematically purged the primary magnetic routes of Paradise. He hadn't just hunted; he had completely dismantled the pirate ecosystem in his assigned sectors. He had pushed his Observation and Armament Haki to Intermediate levels, expanding his sensory range to nearly half a mile and hardening his blade to a terrifying, unbreakable density.
He had over three million points sitting in reserve. He was hoarding them. He needed a massive influx to unlock the Advanced applications of Haki, and the minor bounties of Paradise were yielding diminishing returns.
He needed bigger prey.
"Commodore Yagami!" T-Bone called out, wiping his tear-streaked face as he approached the bow. "We are cleared to dock at Bay 3. Headquarters has requested your immediate presence in the Fleet Admiral's office for your promotion ceremony."
"Thank you, T-Bone," Light said pleasantly, turning his back on the ocean. He looked over at Bonney, who was currently holding the unconscious seagull by its feet. "Do not eat any Admirals while I am gone."
"No promises!" she yelled back.
⬛ ⬛ ⬛
High above the bay, inside the Fleet Admiral's sprawling office, the mood was quiet, steeped in the mundane routine of managing a global military. Over the last several months, the sheer shock of Light Yagami's brutal methods had slowly settled into a comfortable, bureaucratic acceptance. He was a monster, but he was their monster, and he was incredibly reliable.
Sengoku stood over his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Vice Admiral Garp was occupying the sofa, his arms crossed and a deep frown carved into his face. Sitting across from Sengoku, nursing a cup of hot tea with an expression of weary intelligence, was Vice Admiral Tsuru.
Spread across the mahogany desk was Light's operational file.
"Pirate activity in the third and fourth sectors of Paradise is down eighty-five percent," Tsuru read aloud, her sharp eyes scanning the parchment. "Seven mid-tier pirate alliances completely dismantled before they could even properly form. Bounties totaling over two billion Beli neutralized."
"Neutralized," Sengoku repeated, the word tasting slightly sour. "The man does not take prisoners, Tsuru. He leaves graveyards."
Garp bit into a rice cracker with a loud, aggressive crunch. "Justice shouldn't just be a butcher's bill, Sengoku," the old Hero grunted, his voice thick with distaste. "The kid's got absolutely no mercy in him. It doesn't sit right with me. Real Marines protect people; they don't just act like executioners."
Tsuru took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea. "Perhaps, Garp. But the civilian casualty rate under his jurisdiction is absolute zero. The World Government loves him, and the seas are undeniably safer. We have to accept that his methods, while bloody, are ruthlessly effective and entirely contained to the criminal element."
Sengoku sighed, collapsing into his chair. "A Rear Admiral at twenty-one. It sets a terrifying precedent. But Tsuru is right; we cannot deny the results. We will post him to the Sabaody Archipelago. He can act as the final gatekeeper for Paradise. Any pirate who manages to survive the Grand Line will have to go through him to leave it."
Bacha-bacha-bacha-bacha!
The golden Den Den Mushi on Sengoku's desk suddenly began to ring violently. Its eyes were wide and frantic, mimicking the heavy stress of the caller on the other end.
Sengoku snatched the receiver. "Sengoku."
"Fleet Admiral." The gruff, exhausted voice of Captain Smoker crackled through the speaker, accompanied by the faint sound of cigar smoke being exhaled. "It's over. Crocodile has fallen."
The office went dead silent. Garp slowly lowered his cracker. Tsuru set her teacup down with a soft clink.
"Explain yourself, Smoker," Sengoku commanded, his posture instantly rigid.
"He orchestrated a massive civil war in the Alabasta Kingdom," Smoker reported, his voice tight with barely suppressed anger at the Warlord's betrayal. "He was attempting to overthrow King Cobra and seize the entire country from the shadows. The rebellion has been halted. Crocodile is defeated, and we currently have him locked in Seastone custody."
Sengoku's knuckles turned white on the receiver. A Warlord falling. A kingdom nearly usurped. The delicate balance of the Three Great Powers was suddenly teetering on a knife's edge.
"Who took him down?" Sengoku demanded.
The snail hesitated for a long second, sweating profusely. "A rookie from the East Blue. Monkey D. Luffy. The Straw Hat Pirates."
Garp suddenly choked on his rice cracker, coughing violently into his massive fist, his eyes bulging.
"A rookie?" Sengoku hissed, entirely ignoring Garp's sudden fit. "A thirty-million Beli rookie defeated a Warlord of the Sea?!"
"Yes, sir," Smoker replied. "I am requesting immediate backup to process the high-ranking Baroque Works agents and to pursue the Straw Hat crew before they can escape the island."
Sengoku slammed the receiver down into its cradle, cutting the connection. He stood up, pacing the length of his office. "A disaster. An absolute disaster. The World Government will demand a massive cover-up for Alabasta, but we need those pirates apprehended immediately before the press catches wind that a Shichibukai was bested by an East Blue brat."
"Alabasta is weeks away for a standard fleet," Tsuru noted, her mind already calculating the logistics. "We need someone fast. Someone exceptionally capable, who won't ask uncomfortable questions about the World Government's involvement, and who can handle a Warlord-level syndicate if Crocodile's remaining forces retaliate."
The heavy oak doors of the office suddenly opened.
A Marine guard stepped inside, saluting sharply. "Fleet Admiral Sengoku! Commodore Light Yagami has arrived for his promotion briefing!"
Sengoku stopped pacing. He looked at Tsuru. Tsuru looked back, raising a single, perfectly manicured eyebrow. Garp simply scowled at the floor.
"Send him in," Sengoku ordered.
Light stepped into the room. He wore his pristine white Commodore coat, his posture flawless, his expression fixed in that perfectly pleasant, unreadable smile. He saluted the three legendary Marines, his dark eyes sweeping the room, silently acknowledging the immense Karma numbers hovering above their heads that he had memorized eight months ago.
"Reporting as ordered, Fleet Admiral," Light said smoothly.
Sengoku walked around the desk. From a coat stand near the wall, he retrieved a heavy, immaculate coat adorned with the golden epaulettes of a Rear Admiral. He held it out.
"Yagami. Your promotion to Rear Admiral is officially approved," Sengoku said, his voice clipped and urgent.
"Thank you, sir," Light said, accepting the heavy garment. He smoothly shrugged off his old coat and draped the new mantle of authority over his shoulders. It was a perfect fit.
"Your posting to the Sabaody Archipelago was confirmed," Sengoku continued, picking up a freshly printed bounty poster from his desk and holding it out. "However, your deployment to Sabaody is delayed. As of this exact moment, you are being redirected."
Light took the poster, tilting his head slightly. "Redirected, sir?"
"A Warlord has been defeated in Alabasta. The political situation is highly volatile," Sengoku explained grimly. "You are to depart immediately. Sail to the desert kingdom, secure the high-ranking members of the Baroque Works syndicate, and apprehend the pirate crew responsible for this mess."
Light looked down at the poster in his hands.
Monkey D. Luffy. DEAD OR ALIVE. 30,000,000 Berries.
"A thirty million bounty?" Light asked mildly, his thumb tracing the grinning, idiotically cheerful face of the boy in the straw hat. "For someone who bested a Warlord?"
"Sighs... Yes, it needs to update. Just, do not underestimate them, Rear Admiral," Tsuru warned from the sofa, her gaze piercing. "They just accomplished the impossible. We need them crushed before they inspire others."
Light stared at the poster. He felt absolutely nothing from the paper, but his mind was already running the cold, beautiful arithmetic of the hunt. A crew strong enough to dismantle a Shichibukai's empire. The Karma values of the elite Baroque Works assassins. The potential KP yield of an entire warlord's syndicate waiting to be harvested.
"Understood, Fleet Admiral," Light said, folding the poster neatly and slipping it into his new coat. He offered the room a flawless, chilling smile. "I will ensure absolute justice is carried out in Alabasta."
He turned and walked out of the office, his new Rear Admiral coat billowing heavily behind him. The hunt for the Straw Hats had begun.
'Luffy...'
Garp, in the end, couldn't say anything.