Even the Marines and the World Government were nothing more than pieces on their chessboard.
Anyone with half a brain could tell—those two were plotting something huge.
And Sith Oguro had no intention of accidentally wrecking whatever grand scheme they were cooking up.
He was still curious to see how Sōsuke Aizen planned to reshape this world.
Barrett left as well.
In an instant, the pressure on the Marines lightened considerably.
Now, their only enemies were Sith Oguro and his two companions.
Whoosh!
Borsalino—better known as Admiral Kizaru—burst into golden light and appeared behind Sith Oguro in a flash.
He crossed his arms, forming a circle with his index fingers and thumbs as blinding light gathered between them.
"Yasakani no—"
Before he could finish "Magatama," a cold voice cut in from behind him.
"Kizaru. Don't move."
A razor-sharp killing intent froze him in place.
He glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him and slowly raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Yare yare… Benn Beckman, huh? How scary~"
The vice-captain of the Red-Haired Pirates sat casually atop the wreckage of a warship, pistol leveled at Kizaru with steady precision.
Recognized as the strongest first mate among the Four Emperors' crews, Beckman's power was said to rival even his captain's.
Otherwise, the Red-Haired Pirates wouldn't have the luxury of running such an elite, small-unit crew.
"So, Oguro-dono."
Shanks fixed Sith Oguro with a solemn gaze.
"Would you be willing to stand down?"
Sith Oguro looked at Shanks for a long moment before answering calmly.
"You want me to give you face? And where exactly does that leave the dignity of my Holy Spirit Empire?"
Even if Shanks was one of the Four Emperors, at the end of the day… he was still a pirate.
You expect the Holy Spirit Empire to compromise for a pirate?
You've got to be kidding me.
"If you insist on fighting," Shanks replied evenly, tightening his grip on his famed blade, Gryphon, "then I'll have no choice but to stop you."
Not far away, Sengoku's eyes shifted subtly. Without a word, he took two quiet steps back.
If these two forces clashed, no matter who won or lost, it would be good news for the Marines.
The air grew tense—like blades already drawn.
"Oguro-dono," Beckman suddenly interjected, voice calm but firm. "If we fight here, the only ones who benefit are the bystanders. Why not hear our proposal first?"
His gaze flicked meaningfully toward Sengoku and the other Marines watching from the sidelines.
If either side fell, the Marines would be the ones to swoop in and reap the rewards.
He had no intention of letting them pick up scraps.
Sengoku, seeing through Beckman's thoughts, didn't look the least bit offended.
The war at Marineford was already nearing its end.
If it stopped here, that was acceptable to the Marines.
Sith Oguro gave a cold chuckle.
"I'm listening. What kind of offer could possibly interest me?"
Beckman paused briefly before speaking in a low voice.
"We owe you a favor. In the future, so long as you don't cross our bottom line, we'll help you with one matter of your choosing."
He glanced at his captain.
"No objections, Shanks?"
Shanks nodded without hesitation.
"None."
This wasn't like the original timeline.
Back then, the Red-Haired Pirates faced an already battered Marine force alone. A little pressure was enough to force a ceasefire.
Now, it was a three-way standoff.
Three powers. Zero trust.
Shanks knew that without offering something substantial, no one would give him face.
Sengoku couldn't help but suck in a quiet breath.
A favor from a Yonko…
Used properly, it could topple an entire nation.
Sith Oguro narrowed his eyes.
He knew something Sengoku didn't.
Shanks was one of the very few who could speak directly with the Five Elders.
A favor from him carried far more weight than most realized.
He finally spoke.
"Aizen Sōsuke… you're lucky this time. So many people are willing to shield you."
At those words, both Shanks and Beckman exhaled in relief.
Looks like a fight's off the table.
Aizen adjusted his glasses with a faint smile.
"I must say, my luck does seem rather good. To be surrounded by such capable allies."
From a distance, Sith Oguro shot Aizen a piercing glare, his eyes cold as winter steel.
"But your luck won't last forever."
His voice dropped.
"Pray I don't find the right opportunity."
In the next instant, the three figures shot into the sky.
Even Sengoku couldn't help but feel a trace of envy at their ability to fly freely.
High above, Sith Oguro opened a Senkaimon—a dimensional gate—and the trio stepped through, returning directly to the Seireitei.
Originally, Oguro had considered opening the gate straight into Marineford—give the Marines a little "surprise."
But knowing the World Government's usual playbook, they'd spare no expense trying to seize such a strategic weapon.
Better to keep it under wraps for now.
Back at Marineford, just like in the original timeline, Shanks requested Whitebeard's body from Sengoku.
Several hardliners protested, but Sengoku shut them down.
Whitebeard was dead. Their primary objective had largely been achieved.
There was no need to keep grinding against the remnants of his crew over a corpse.
He was going to take the blame for this war no matter what.
What's one more charge on the list?
Inside a temporary office, Sengoku summoned Tsuru and Monkey D. Garp.
"The tides of this era are moving faster than we anticipated," he said gravely. "It's time we moved up that plan."
Tsuru's expression sharpened.
"You mean… the World Military Draft?"
Sengoku nodded firmly.
"Whitebeard's final words will spark another wave of piracy. Blackbeard is only the beginning."
"Portgas D. Ace escaped. There's a strong chance he'll inherit Whitebeard's legacy."
"Sith Oguro's Holy Spirit Empire still has an unknown number of top-tier fighters under his command. And he's clearly ambitious."
"Add in the Level 6 escapees from Impel Down… and this world is only going to grow more chaotic."
"If we keep waiting for recruits to walk through the door, our top combat strength will eventually run dry."
"This World Military Draft—our target is the strongest of the strong."
"As long as they're willing to join, we grant them the rank of Vice Admiral immediately."
"If their strength warrants it… even fast-tracking them to Admiral isn't off the table."
Tsuru was visibly startled.
"Grant Admiral rank? Have you lost your mind? And where exactly do we have vacancies for Admirals?"
An Admiral wasn't just about power—it was the face of the Marines.
You couldn't hand that title to someone who'd barely worn the uniform.
That would be like announcing to the entire world: We've run out of talent.
Sengoku raised a hand.
"I'm not saying we appoint one tomorrow."
"But if an emergency arises… it's an option."
In the original timeline, both Fujitora and Ryokugyu were promoted to Admiral directly through the World Military Draft.
That was an emergency measure.
Gion and Tokikake, the Admiral candidates, just weren't quite there.
Sengoku and Garp had semi-retired.
Akainu became Fleet Admiral, and Aokiji left the Marines.
Their high-end combat power had taken a massive hit.
With two Admiral seats vacant, it was practically a billboard saying:
The Marines are hollow. We can't even fill our top positions.
And that was far more dangerous than breaking convention to promote two newcomers.