Boom!
Sengoku's words exploded like thunder in the conference room.
Everyone froze in place, their faces filled with disbelief.
"Roger's son? The King of the Pirates still has a descendant alive in this world?!"
"How is that possible? After Roger's execution, weren't his wife and child secretly dealt with?"
An uproar erupted, ten times more intense than before.
Roger—the man who had ushered in the Great Age of Pirates.
His bloodline had been hiding within the Whitebeard Pirates all along.
If this news were true, it would be too shocking, enough to drive the entire world into a frenzy.
Sengoku's expression was grave as he continued:
"We will publicly execute Ace, using the death of the King of the Pirates' bloodline to intimidate pirates across the world and cool the fervor of the Great Age of Pirates.
We will make everyone chasing dreams and heading out to sea understand that the era of the King of the Pirates has come to an end.
If we win this war, the Marines will completely control the Grand Line, and the chaotic times will return to stability."
As his words fell, no one in the conference room voiced any further opposition.
All previous concerns, worries, and hesitations vanished into thin air before the five words: "Roger's son."
No one questioned whether they should go to war with Whitebeard.
No one felt the risks were too great or the gains not worth the losses.
The bloodline of the King of the Pirates had to be eradicated, root and stem.
This was a war that would stake the dignity of the Marines, the order of the world, and the future of the entire sea.
Victory would mean the end of the Great Age of Pirates and the Marines reigning supreme.
Defeat would mean the collapse of order and the return of chaos.
Everyone's expressions turned solemn, their eyes burning with resolve.
War was now inevitable.
Ivan sat in his seat, lightly tapping the table with his fingertips, his gaze calm as he looked out the window.
The sea breeze of Marineford howled past, carrying an air of solemnity.
The Summit War was about to begin.
…
As the meeting concluded, the Vice Admirals and staff officers rose and began to leave.
Ivan was about to follow the crowd when Fleet Admiral Sengoku called out to him, "Ivan, stay behind for a moment."
Pausing mid-step, Ivan turned his head slightly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
He didn't know why Sengoku had asked him to stay—whether it was about his earlier execution of Trebol or if there was a new mission at hand.
Though he had some guesses, he didn't ask any questions. Instead, he stood quietly in place, watching as the others gradually left.
Soon, the spacious conference room held only three people.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Marine Hero Garp, and Admiral Candidate Ivan.
From the start of the meeting until now, Garp had remained grim-faced, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. He hadn't even taken out the senbei he always kept at hand.
The suffocating frustration, almost overflowing, made the atmosphere in the room heavy and oppressive.
Only after the last person had left and the door gently closed, leaving the room in complete silence, did Sengoku turn to face Garp, whose expression was frighteningly dark.
His tone was heavy, tinged with helplessness, as he spoke softly:
"I'm sorry, Garp. In the coming days, you must stay calm. Remember, you are a Marine first."
Though Sengoku's words were quiet, their weight was immense.
No one understood the relationship between Garp and Ace better than he did.
Ace was the child Garp had raised with his own hands, his nominal grandson.
Now that the Marines were publicly executing Ace, Sengoku understood better than anyone the struggle and pain in Garp's heart.
By saying this, he was also giving an early warning, a caution, fearing that this Marine Hero might act impulsively at the critical moment and do something irreparable.
If Garp were to intervene and rescue Ace at the execution site, the entire Marine deployment would completely collapse, and this grand plan would instantly become a laughingstock for the entire world.
Hearing Sengoku's admonition, Garp, who had been suppressing his anger, instantly exploded.
"Sengoku!" A low roar shook the entire conference room slightly.
A violent aura suddenly erupted from Garp's body, an invisible pressure sweeping through the surroundings.
Streaks of black and red lightning crackled and danced wildly around him. That Conqueror's Haki was enough to knock an ordinary Vice Admiral unconscious on the spot.
Garp's eyes were wide open, blazing as he stared fixedly at Sengoku, his voice filled with rage:
"Is that the kind of person you think I am in your heart?!
I am indeed Ace's grandfather, but I am also the Marine Hero Garp!
Do you think I would disregard the Justice of the Marines for my own personal feelings?!"
As his words fell, he slammed a fist onto the conference table in front of him.
BOOM!
With a deafening crash, the sturdy, thick solid wood tabletop instantly shattered, splinters flying everywhere.
The entire long table collapsed with a roar, reduced to a pile of useless wood.
Ivan watched silently from the side, wisely shifting his gaze to the ceiling, pretending to admire the patterns of the chandelier overhead, doing his utmost to minimize his presence.
Garp at this moment was far too dangerous.
Others might only see Garp as a powerful Marine veteran, an old man who loved Senbei.
But Ivan knew full well just what kind of terrifying monster this seemingly ordinary old man truly was.
In his prime, Garp was a fierce man who could chase the King of the Pirates, Roger, across the seas, repeatedly driving Roger into desperate situations.
He was called the "Marine Hero" not because of his rank or background, but because of the reputation he had earned with his own fists.
Even more terrifying was his superhuman physique. Relying solely on basic Iron Body training and top-tier Haki, he could withstand Roger's Divine Departure completely unscathed.
Even now, in his old age and with his strength diminished, he still possessed the terrifying combat power to single-handedly take on half of the Blackbeard Pirates.
Once targeted by a monster of this caliber, getting hit by one of his punches would be an absolutely unpleasant experience.
Of course, Ivan wasn't truly afraid of Garp.
If he unleashed all his trump cards and fought with everything he had, he should be able to defeat Garp.
But it was completely unnecessary.
There was no need to clash head-on with Garp at a time like this; that would be nothing but trouble for himself.
Looking at his furious old friend, a trace of helplessness appeared on Sengoku's face as he let out a soft sigh:
"It's not that I don't trust you, old friend.
It's just that we're at the most critical juncture now. I cannot allow even the slightest mishap, not even a one-in-ten-thousand possibility. I cannot gamble on it."
Garp snorted coldly, his chest heaving violently, clearly still seething with anger.
He turned his head away, no longer looking at Sengoku, and remained silent. Only the oppressive aura around him grew even heavier.
No one was in more pain than he was.
On one side was the Navy Justice he had upheld his entire life, on the other was Ace, whom he had raised with his own hands.
Watching Ace walk toward the execution platform was more agonizing than fighting Rocks ten more times.
He had already made his choice in his heart—he would stand with the Navy, he would uphold Justice—but that did not mean he was not in pain, not struggling, not feeling as if his heart were being sliced by a knife.
This torment, which he could confide to no one, now all turned into a stifling, pent-up fury with nowhere to vent.