The grandfather clock in Rear Admiral Light Yagami's office struck 2:00 AM. The heavy, rhythmic ticking echoed through the suffocating silence of the room.
Outside, Grove 66 was dead quiet. The thick, salty fog of the archipelago had rolled in, blanketing the Marine barracks in a heavy, obscuring mist.
The heavy oak door to the office clicked open. First Lieutenant Haas, now Captain Haas, slipped inside, locking the deadbolt behind him with a sharp clack. Five other men followed like ghosts—the most hardened, loyal veterans from the South Blue. They had been with Light since his first day as an Ensign. They had watched him slaughter pirates, dismantle syndicates, and rise to the rank of Rear Admiral in record time.
"You requested us, Rear Admiral?" Haas whispered, standing at rigid attention in the dim, flickering candlelight.
Light sat behind his massive desk, his hands steepled in front of his face. He didn't say a word. He simply pushed a thick stack of manila folders across the polished wood.
Haas hesitated. The air in the room felt unspeakably heavy, thick with the spiritual pressure of Light's suppressed Haki. Haas stepped forward and opened the top file.
His eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
It was a comprehensive, perfectly documented ledger detailing the movements of Commodore Vane, the local Marine Base Commander. It contained precise dates, staggering amounts of Beli exchanged, and the names of the slave merchants Vane was actively protecting in Grove 1. There were even transcribed Den Den Mushi conversations detailing how Vane manipulated Marine patrol routes to leave the human auction houses completely unchecked.
"Sir... this is..." Haas stammered, the blood draining entirely from his face. "This is high treason. Commodore Vane is taking massive kickbacks from the human traffickers."
"He is," Light confirmed softly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying absolute authority. "Along with three Captains and two Commanders stationed on this very base. Their bad karma is a stain on the uniform you wear, Captain."
Haas gripped the folder, the paper crinkling under his tightening fingers. His jaw clenched with righteous, blinding anger. "We must transmit this evidence to Fleet Admiral Sengoku immediately! Headquarters will dispatch Internal Affairs by morning—"
"Headquarters already knows, Haas," Light interrupted, his voice dropping into a chilling, absolute calm.
Haas froze. The five men behind him stopped breathing. "What?"
"The slave trade on this island exists exclusively to serve the Celestial Dragons in Mariejois," Light explained, leaning back in his leather chair. The flickering candlelight cast long, demonic shadows across his pristine white coat. "The World Nobles require a steady, uninterrupted supply of exotic humans, fishmen, and giants for their amusement. The Marines stationed here are specifically ordered by the Gorosei to turn a blind eye to Groves 1 through 29. Commodore Vane isn't just taking bribes; he is acting with the unspoken blessing of the World Government."
The six Marines stood in stunned, horrified silence.
The foundational pillars of their absolute justice—the ideology they had dedicated their blood, sweat, and lives to—were cracking and shattering beneath their boots. They had joined the Navy to protect the innocent. Now, their commanding officer was telling them the Navy was the world's largest kidnapping syndicate.
"If we send these files to Marineford, they will be incinerated before the sun comes up," Light continued, his dark eyes locking onto Haas with piercing intensity. "And tomorrow morning, you, your men, and I might be quietly reassigned to a suicide mission in the New World, never to be heard from again."
Haas looked down at the files, his hands shaking slightly. He had followed Light because Light killed the monsters that the law couldn't touch. But to realize the law itself was the monster...
"Then... what do we do, sir?" Haas asked, his voice cracking with desperation.
Light stood up. He walked slowly around the desk, stopping right in front of the Lieutenant.
"If justice is blind, Haas, then we must become its sword," Light said, his voice ringing with a terrifying, hypnotic conviction. "The World Government is a rotting corpse. They protect slavers. They protect false gods who wear space suits and shoot innocent civilians in the street. I am going to tear this system down to its very roots, and I am going to build a New World upon its ashes. A world of absolute, sterilized peace."
Light reached out and tapped the stack of folders.
"I have mapped the patrol routes. I have disabled the surveillance snails in the officers' quarters," Light said, his tone shifting into purely tactical calculation. "Tonight, you and your men will enter the barracks. You will execute Commodore Vane and his conspirators in their sleep. You will ransack the safes, and you will make it look like a retaliatory pirate assassination."
Haas stopped breathing. The five veterans behind him visibly tensed, their hands instinctively twitching toward the hilts of their swords.
Assassinating a superior Marine officer. It was the ultimate crime. It was the absolute crossing of the Rubicon.
"Sir," Haas breathed, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his temple and dripping off his jaw. "If we do this... we aren't Marines anymore. We are criminals. We are mutineers."
"No," Light agreed softly, offering a perfectly serene, understanding smile. "If you do this, you no longer serve the World Government. You serve true justice. You serve me."
Light let the silence stretch, heavy and suffocating in the dark office.
He was putting his most loyal pawns to the ultimate psychological test. He had mathematically verified their Green Karma. He knew they possessed an absolute hatred for evil. But he needed to know if they possessed the stomach to cut the throat of the law to achieve it. If they refused, he would kill them himself and attribute their deaths to the fabricated pirate attack. He would not tolerate hesitation in his ranks.
Haas looked at the files. He thought of the terrified, chained slaves he had seen unloaded at the docks earlier that week while the Marine guards conveniently looked the other way, laughing with the smugglers.
He looked up at Light Yagami. The young prodigy who had never once failed to deliver absolute, lethal results against the wicked. The man who radiated an aura of terrifying, god-like certainty.
Haas slowly reached out and picked up the folders. He turned to his men.
"Draw your combat knives," Haas ordered, his voice suddenly stripped of all hesitation, replaced by a cold, fanatical resolve. "No firearms. We do this quietly."
The five veterans didn't argue. They drew their steel. The metal gleamed softly in the dim candlelight, their eyes hardening with absolute conviction.
"We belong to you, Major" Haas said, slipping back into Light's old rank, the title they had respected him under when they first began cleaning the South Blue. "May justice guide our blades."
"It already has," Light whispered.
As the six men slipped silently out of the office and melted into the fog, Light walked over to the window. He looked out over the darkened Marine base, his Haki effortlessly tracking the quiet, lethal movements of his loyalists as they approached the officers' quarters.
The purge of Sabaody had officially begun. The minor, corrupt pieces were currently being removed from the board.
Light looked out toward the ocean, his mind running through his geopolitical calculations one final time.
Admiral Kizaru has been deployed to the New World to monitor the Emperors' movements, Light analyzed. Admiral Aokiji is currently stationed near Enies Lobby. When the true spark ignites on this island tomorrow, Sengoku will have no choice. He will have to send the Red Dog.
A chilling smile spread across Light's face.
Come, Sakazuki, Light thought, his dark eyes burning with absolute, sociopathic anticipation. Bring your absolute justice. Let us see how magma fares against my force.