195 With the Justice System

Paradise, G-3 Branch.

The deep blue sea rippled gently as two massive fleets crossed paths in silence.

"Wmm——"

One fleet was slowly departing the harbor.

On the deck of the lead flagship stood five fierce and imposing Vice Admirals of Headquarters—Onigumo, Doberman, and three others. Their arms were folded across their chests, and standing just behind them was the newly promoted Rear Admiral, Dane.

The other fleet had just arrived.

At the forefront was the iconic dog-headed battleship.

On its deck stood Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr, and Tsuru—shoulder to shoulder.

The moment the two fleets passed each other—

"Shua——!"

Onigumo and the others sharply raised their right arms, giving a solemn salute.

On the dog-headed battleship, Sengoku lifted his hand in return, answering their salute with equal gravity.

That instant marked the formal handover of command—the defense of the seas surrounding G-3 Branch was now officially transferred!

"Whaa——"

As the fleet bound for Marine Headquarters gradually sailed away, Sengoku's gaze turned toward the newly completed G-3 Branch ahead.

What met his eyes was a true fortress of war.

The original base had been expanded dozens of times over. Towering walls of special alloy rose from the ocean floor, encircling the entire island like an impenetrable citadel.

Countless massive cannons, their barrels like the maws of slumbering beasts, jutted from the ramparts, ominously aimed at both sky and sea.

Inside the harbor, the G-3 Branch was a hive of relentless activity.

Gigantic cranes—like steel giants—were unloading mountains of cargo from the transport ships.

Food, weapons, ammunition, medical supplies—everything imaginable was being offloaded in endless quantities.

"Tak—"

Sengoku stepped off the dog-headed battleship and set foot on the port.

At the far end of the dock, ten sleek, fully automated black submarines silently surfaced.

Their hatches slid open with mechanical precision.

Waiting robots immediately moved in, removing sealed metal crates from inside.

Once unloaded, the submarines glided away toward the charging docks, while another fully charged batch took their place, diving back into the deep to resume salvage operations.

The process repeated endlessly—flawless, seamless, and terrifyingly efficient.

"Rumble—Rumble—Rumble—"

In the distance, a newly built smelting complex roared with thunderous noise.

Crates filled with rust-covered ancient coins and golden relics, retrieved from the ocean, were sorted and fed into massive furnaces.

Through blazing heat and purification, they were refined into uniform gold ingots—each one stamped with the Marine seagull insignia—before being sent deep into the underground vaults.

"Ha—"

Sengoku looked over the thriving scene before him, and the heaviness that had weighed on his chest for years was suddenly gone.

He reached into his coat, pulled out a packet of rice crackers, tore it open, and popped one into his mouth.

"Crunch—"

A crisp sound broke the air.

He chewed contentedly, savoring the flavor.

Delicious—truly delicious!

"Fwoosh—"

Suddenly, a large hand darted out faster than lightning and snatched the entire pack from his grasp!

"Puha—"

Garp stuffed the remaining crackers into his mouth all at once, his cheeks puffing like a chipmunk.

"Sengoku, your reflexes have slowed, huh?"

"..."

Sengoku's smile froze on his face.

His expression darkened instantly.

A freshly opened pack, and he'd only eaten one piece!

"GAARP!!"

The roar of pure fury shook the entire harbor.

Sengoku leapt up like a spring, leaving a blur behind him as he bolted after the laughing Garp.

"You bastard! Give me back my crackers!"

"Bwahahaha! Catch me if you can!"

"..."

Leaning on the ship's railing nearby, Zephyr sighed helplessly as he watched the two old friends—combined age nearing two hundred—chase each other around like children.

"These two geezers..."

"Haha..."

Tsuru approached, smiling softly.

"Let them be."

Her eyes followed their distant figures, filled with quiet nostalgia.

The victory at Marineford, the Navy's restored autonomy...

The rise of a new generation, the passing of the torch...

Now, at long last, they could lay down the burdens of Fleet Admiral and Hero—and simply be themselves again.

"These two old men... haven't been this relaxed in a very long time."

Just then—

"Yo~"

A lazy drawl reached Zephyr and Tsuru's ears.

"Fwoosh—"

A beam of golden light descended from the sky, coalescing into a tall, slender figure on the deck.

Borsalino—Kizaru—walked over, cradling an ornate wooden box in his arms.

His gaze drifted over the railing, scanning the vast fortress that was G-3 Branch.

"G-3 Branch... how terrifying~"

"This place... is the real Headquarters, huh~"

Tsuru looked at him calmly.

"You retrieved the fruit?"

"My, my... such impatience."

Kizaru handed over the box.

"Mission accomplished."

"Tap, tap, tap..."

Footsteps sounded behind them as Zephyr approached.

His eyes softened—though still mixed with complex emotion—as he looked at the student he'd never quite seen eye to eye with.

"Smack—"

Zephyr's hand landed heavily on Kizaru's shoulder.

"Borsalino... good work."

"Eh..."

Kizaru stiffened slightly, surprise flickering behind his tinted glasses.

"From now on, when it comes to developing your Devil Fruit powers... we'll be exchanging ideas more often, teacher and student."

"Ha—"

Kizaru grinned, and this time, there was genuine warmth in his smile.

"But of course~"

"Zephyr-sensei, Tsuru-san," he said, straightening up, "I'll take my leave now. Those two monsters—Hawke-kun's brats—are still waiting for their 'special training.'"

Zephyr and Tsuru nodded, watching him depart.

"Sengoku, Garp—get over here!" Tsuru called toward the nearby training field. "Zephyr's about to eat the fruit!"

"Fwoosh—"

Before her words had even faded, two figures dashed over at full speed, faces lit with curiosity and anticipation.

Zephyr opened the box. Inside lay a pitch-black Devil Fruit, shaped like a curled-up bat.

Without hesitation, he lifted it and took a hard bite.

An indescribable stench burst across his tongue—but the next instant, an overwhelming surge of vitality flooded through his body like a breaking dam.

Zephyr could feel it clearly—his old wounds knitting together, his body mending under a new, formidable power.

With just a bit more enemy blood... he would return to his prime!

...

Outside the G-3 Branch waters.

A massive pure-white vessel glided steadily through the waves.

Its sails bore the emblem of the World Government.

At the bow stood the likeness of a majestic griffin, golden eyes gazing down upon the churning sea.

On the deck stood a man of divine bearing—his features strikingly handsome, yet cold and inhuman. His attire was ornate beyond mortal luxury.

Figarland Shamrock.

Vice Captain of the Holy Knights.

He stared toward the war-fortress of G-3 Branch ahead, eyes filled with detached, godlike contempt.

Imu had yet to awaken from slumber.

Otherwise, none of this trouble would be necessary.

A single thought would suffice to pierce this filthy lower world and unearth every secret within.

But now, he had to travel aboard this sluggish vessel—like a mere mortal.

Truly... displeasing to this Saint.

"Then let us... bathe the G-3 Branch in blood!"