"Wahahaha! Admit defeat, Kuzan! With skills like yours, there's no way you can beat an old man like me, ahahahaha!"
Wearing nothing but swim trunks, Garp roared with laughter as he carefully worked the joystick, controlling a game character that looked suspiciously like himself while launching attack after attack on the enormous screen.
To accommodate the wave of Marine top brass who had come to vacation here, the Gran Tesoro had been completely cleared out. Apart from the ship's staff, the only guests aboard now were Marines.
Many Vice Admirals could only sigh in awe at Kizaru's extravagance. After all, shutting down Gran Tesoro—the world's largest floating entertainment city—meant losing daily revenue in the hundreds of billions of Berries.
Even if only a fraction of that stayed permanently within Gran Tesoro, it was still an astronomical profit.
Fortunately, Kizaru's partnership with the "Golden Emperor" Gild Tesoro wasn't exactly a secret among Marine higher-ups.
Both Gran Tesoro and Tesoro himself were recognized as an official member nation and monarch by the World Government—and the ones who suffered under them were mostly pirate scum anyway.
Before the Marines' arrival, Tesoro had already canceled every activity that might offend the high-ranking officers. So, the Marines turned a blind eye and pretended not to notice anything questionable.
"Mr. Garp, did you forget? This is still my first life…"
Kuzan sighed helplessly, flicking the joystick with a relaxed motion as his character unleashed a simple combo that instantly drained Garp's health bar.
"KO! Another three-to-zero sweep! Vice Admiral Garp, you're completely hopeless!"
From beside the pool, even wearing nothing but swimming trunks, Vice Admiral Bastille—still sporting his trademark horned mask—burst out laughing loudly.
As one of the leading figures of the Navy's "slacker faction," when Kizaru announced a collective vacation for all high-ranking officers, Vice Admiral Bastille was almost the first to cheer in response.
He was also among the first batch of naval officers to arrive at Gran Tesoro, the world's largest floating city — and by now, he had practically experienced every entertainment facility the place had to offer.
Don't let his smug attitude toward Garp fool you; not long ago, Bastille himself had been a hardcore gamer who could sit in front of an arcade machine all day.
"Damn it! If this machine weren't so fragile, how could I possibly lose this badly?! No, one more round!"
Garp was on the verge of losing his temper. Normally, he could control his strength just fine, but the moment he got excited during a game, all restraint flew out the window.
Although a repair crew was always standing by, each time he broke the machine it took ages to fix — and for someone currently addicted, Garp wasn't about to waste any time waiting.
"Please spare me, Garp-san. I'm requesting a substitution…"
Kuzan gave a lazy French salute of surrender, motioning for someone else to take over.
"It should be my turn now, right? Let's have a fair man-to-man match, Garp-senpai!"
Vice Admiral Maynard, who had been waiting impatiently, eagerly took a seat, rubbing his hands together with excitement.
This time, though, it was Garp's turn to look utterly unimpressed. Even if Kuzan thought both of them were weaklings, there were still levels among weaklings.
Compared to Garp, who had already mastered several combo moves, the beginner Maynard couldn't even hold a candle to him.
"Let me make this clear — you don't stand a chance against me!"
Annoyed as he was, the moment Maynard's hands gripped the joystick and buttons, Garp's expression turned serious.
And the reason was simple — after losing so many times earlier, he finally had a chance to reclaim his pride.
"Hmph! I studied your playstyle for a long time from the sidelines, Garp-senpai. I know all your moves and habits by heart. There's no way I'll lose this time!"
Brimming with confidence, Maynard shouted, and the two game-hungry weaklings immediately plunged into a fierce "battle."
The nearby vice admirals, who had gathered to watch, could only stare in exasperation. A few of them wanted to make a snide comment, but after seeing the murderous aura radiating from Garp, they wisely kept their mouths shut.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the pool, Vice Admiral Tsuru — dressed casually in a summer shirt — looked over a few spread-out newspapers, her wrinkled face filled with suspicion and unease.
"Something wrong, Tsuru-san?"
Gion, carrying two cans of drinks, approached from nearby. Seeing the serious look on Tsuru's face, she couldn't help but ask curiously.
Back during the Marineford War, Gion had been assigned to track down the prisoners who escaped from Impel Down. After months of effort, she had finally managed to capture most of them.
Only a few had gone off to join the Revolutionary Army, and after failing to find their traces, she eventually gave up the chase. So when Kizaru announced a unified vacation for the Navy's upper ranks, she came along to join the fun.
"No… it's nothing. I suppose I'm just overthinking things."
Vice Admiral Tsuru gently shook her head and picked up a small slip of paper that had been resting on top of the newspaper. With a light rub of her fingers, the Wash-Wash Fruit's ability silently erased every trace of writing from it.
Not long after Kizaru had tampered with the den den mushi lines of the Marine Headquarters' senior officers, the ever-cautious Tsuru had already sensed something was off.
As someone known for her prudence, she didn't act rashly. Instead, she quietly began collecting information. It wasn't until recently—when one of the CP agents secretly stationed aboard Gran Tesoro managed to contact her—that she finally learned the truth.
Though she was deeply shocked by what she heard, Tsuru didn't immediately trust the CP agent's words. As always, she continued observing from the shadows, gathering more evidence.
Now, she could finally confirm that the intel sent by that agent was real. Whether or not there was truly a "Marine Headquarters rebellion" as the agent had claimed, one thing was certain: Kizaru, who had ordered the entire top brass to take "vacation," was far from innocent.
When Kizaru had tampered with the den den mushi of those officers, he hadn't forgotten to have Morgans forge newspapers to create an information cocoon.
However, such little tricks were of little use against a woman as meticulous as Tsuru.
The CP agent who'd risked exposure to deliver her the message had certainly not expected this outcome. He'd gone through great effort to find a way to reach her and pass along the vital intel—only for Tsuru not to react the way he hoped.
"We've all been on leave for so long… I can't help but worry something's gone wrong with Kizaru,"
said Gion, wearing a modest one-piece swimsuit as she sat beside Tsuru. Despite her usual calm beauty, her face now showed genuine concern.
Though the two looked like they could be from entirely different generations, Gion was, in truth, Tsuru's sworn younger sister.
"You're too anxious," Tsuru said with a half-playful sigh. "This old lady finally gets a vacation, and you're already trying to send me back to help your fiancé with his work?"
Her tone was light, teasing. She tossed the now-blank slip of paper into the trash without a trace of hesitation.
Gion glanced at the erased note, curious for a moment, but didn't ask further.
"Gion! Tsuru! Come down and play with us!"
The booming voice came from Vice Admiral Viviane, a towering female giant who had poked her head over from the pool. The deck-level pool area was four stories high, but for someone nearly twenty meters tall, it was just about eye level.
The Gran Tesoro, the massive floating city of gold, was one of the few places in the world big enough for giants to relax and enjoy themselves aboard a ship.
By human standards, Viviane would've been around Tsuru's age—but given that giants lived nearly three times longer than humans, she might actually have been younger than Nami.
Nearby, another female giant Marine, Goltz, splashed in the water alongside Viviane. Both wore bold, revealing swimsuits, a stark contrast to Gion's overly conservative one-piece.
Unfortunately, no man present dared to appreciate their beauty—after all, even the most stunning curves lose their charm when they're attached to someone towering twenty meters tall.
"I'm coming!" Gion said with a smile, rising from her seat. Because of Kizaru, she and Viviane had become quite close.
"Have fun," Tsuru said warmly, a faint smile on her lips. She didn't tell Gion the truth she'd uncovered.
Just as Inspector General Sengoku had chosen to side with the Marines over the World Government, Tsuru too stood firmly by her duty—as a Marine, not as a pawn of the Celestial Dragons.
Even though she had never once spoken directly with Kizaru about any of this, she'd already pieced together his intentions through observation, logic, and her understanding of the man himself.
Watching quietly from a distance by the pool, Kuzan finally let out a slow breath of relief. In fact, he had known the truth even earlier than Tsuru.
That wasn't because he was smarter than her—he simply had an extra den den mushi, one unconnected to official Marine channels.
Like Tsuru and Sengoku, Kuzan had also chosen, in his heart, to side with Kizaru. Having long desired to reform the Marines, he understood what this "rebellion" truly meant.
If Kizaru had told him the entire plan from the start, Kuzan might've hesitated. But now, with the operation already deep in motion and the point of no return long passed, there was no turning back.
"You'd better succeed… Fleet Admiral Kizaru,"
Kuzan murmured softly, his eyes fixed on the direction of Marineford.
As countless factions moved with their own motives amid the great upheaval to come, the G-1 Marine Division, led by Sakazuki himself, finally arrived beneath Mary Geoise—at the port of Red Harbor.
Originally, Red Harbor had merely served as the entryway to the Holy Land, guarded by a modest garrison.
But when Sakazuki and his division set foot there, they found that the entire harbor had been transformed into a heavily fortified sea fortress, bristling with weapons and defenses.
°°°
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