"No… a more precise form of address would be…" The elder on the other end of the line seemed to recall something, then slowly corrected himself. "Saint Ozz."
"What?" Even Sengoku, hardened by years of tempests on the Grand Line, could not keep the question from slipping out. What did that even mean? That title?
"Who is standing beside you, Kong?" The voice that had been calmly issuing orders chilled at once. Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, one of the Five Elders, cut straight through the transponder snail, his tone an accusation.
Kong bowed his head slightly and reported with formal respect. "Reporting, Saint Saturn. Admiral Sengoku of Marine Headquarters."
"Sengoku." Saturn's expression eased a fraction upon hearing the name. After all, he was the very man the Elders themselves had tapped to succeed Kong as the next Fleet Admiral. If a future Fleet Admiral knew a little more than most, it was not the end of the world. Saturn let the matter drop.
For Sengoku, however, the blow landed squarely. A sea emperor acknowledged among the Celestial Dragons… Saint Ozz? Then what did all of Marineford's painstaking preparations against Ozz amount to? All the meetings, all the plans what had any of it been for?
The men on the line did not pause to consider his state of mind.
"You understand Crocodile's identity, do you not, Kong?" asked Saturn, the self-styled Warrior God of Science and Defense. He narrowed his eyes as he held the receiver, a sharp light flickering within.
Under that gaze, Kong seemed to have divined where this was going. The weariness in his posture was unmistakable. He answered anyway. "Yes. Sir Crocodile is a companion at the side of Saint Ozz."
He did not stop there. In his mind rose the faces of countless marines, the weight of his office, and the memory of sailors who had gone down with their ships. Duty pressed upon him like a tide. He added, "At the same time, she is a pirate who sank Marine warships and assaulted a Vice Admiral as well as the admiral-candidate Sakazuki."
Silence answered him. It seemed the Elders had not expected Kong to answer so bluntly. Their brows drew tight.
"Mind your tone, Kong." The elder in white robes, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, cradled the Shodai Kitetsu in the crook of his arm. Cold light flashed in his eyes as he spoke into the snail. "Even if the Navy has suffered losses, that is no excuse for a leader to give in to temper."
Beside Kong, the still-black-haired Sengoku newly promoted to Admiral and still far from the weight he would one day carry had never seen anything like this. His mouth opened and closed without a sound. The Commander-in-Chief of the entire World Government military, arguing with the highest authority in the world… over Crocodile?
If Ozz himself repeated an invasion of Marineford, would the scene be even more absurd? Would they be told to stand there and let him strike, then applaud?
The world had tilted so far he barely recognized it.
In truth, Kong had no desire to quarrel. At Nusjuro's single rebuke he fell silent.
Perhaps it was because he did not answer back, or perhaps because this match the Elders themselves had scheduled could not be allowed to sour. Their expressions softened.
"Enough. Set aside this childish temper, Kong," Saturn said, tightening his grip on his wooden staff. "We did not call to order you to release Crocodile unconditionally."
Kong and Sengoku blinked at one another, momentarily wrong-footed.
Had the sun risen in the west? Whenever the Navy clashed with Ozz, the Elders' first instinct had always been to scold their own dogs, as they liked to say, and preach calm to Ozz. Why not today?
Without sparing their surprise another thought, the remaining Elders took up the thread.
"You should remember the matter we once discussed with you, Kong," said Saint Topman Warcury evenly. "The plan to bind pirates with pirates."
Saint Marcus Mars, standing straight as a spear, added, "Crocodile's strength and reputation, and the forces moving behind her, meet the standards we set. She is qualified to become one pillar that suppresses the sea."
The memory stirred in Kong. This was no sudden whim. They had laid the groundwork for years. Given how violently the era was lurching, were they bringing it forward?
"Your Excellencies," Kong ventured, "are you referring to the Seven Warlords of the Sea plan?"
"Precisely." With the Elders' leave, Kong turned to explain for Sengoku's sake. The admiral listened in silence as his superior sketched the scaffolding of a policy that might only be fully unveiled once Sengoku himself wore the Fleet Admiral's mantle.
"It is as Kong says," Warcury went on. "A device to steady the seas and draw the world back toward balance."
"In fact, when this plan first took shape, we even invited Ozz, the moment he left the Roger Pirates," Mars said. "He had no interest."
A lord of the sea, a king without a crown. Failing to recruit him in his youth had always been the Elders' regret.
Now they meant to make do with the next best thing. If Ozz's companion, the Desert Kingpin Crocodile, and even the swordsman Dracule Mihawk were brought into the fold, the weight of Ozz's name could be leveraged to press down upon the era's chaos.
"What about the other candidates?" Sengoku asked. If this would become his first great problem as Fleet Admiral, he needed to know.
"There are provisional names," came the answer. "Beyond Crocodile, the list is as follows."
"Dracule Mihawk. Recently crossed blades with the Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh. In practical terms, Ozz's right hand. The greatest swordsman in the world though that title remains disputed."
"The Heavenly Yaksha, Donquixote Doflamingo. A great pirate, one of the underworld's major powers, a subordinate of Ozz."
"Gecko Moria. A great pirate who once fought Hundred Beasts Kaido, one of the Sea Emperors, and lived to tell of it."
"Hanafuda. A great pirate allied with Kaido."
"Bartholomew Kuma. King of the Sorbet Kingdom, a terrifying power in his own right, who has defeated many great pirates."
The Elders paused. "These are preliminary. We have not reached out to them one by one."
There was one last name they did not voice. That place had belonged to a certain man. If, by the time the plan was announced, that man still refused, they would simply look elsewhere.
Within the command room, the only sound was the soft rustle of the snail's lashes. Sengoku stood with his arms at his sides, the tip of his chin tilted in thought. A system that legalized a slice of piracy in exchange for stability, a policy that would mortgage a portion of Marine honor to purchase balance. The cost was clear. The benefits were too.
He saw the shape of it as the Elders imagined it. Accept Crocodile, and perhaps Mihawk, not as allies of justice but as instruments. Let fear of sanctioned predators keep lesser beasts in their dens. Let the world believe the Government had tamed the worst of the sea.
Sengoku exhaled slowly. He did not have to like it. He did have to understand it.
Kong, still rigid, broke his silence at last. "If this is the decision of the Five Elders, Marine Headquarters will execute it. But we will not forget the blood price already paid."
"You will do as ordered," Nusjuro replied. His knuckles brushed the old sword's sheath, a small, deliberate sound. "You will also remember that the blood price paid by humanity grows every time the seas rage unchecked."
"Then we are agreed," Saturn said, final as a gavel. "Draft the framework. Prepare the channels. Begin with Crocodile. As for the others, extend feelers, test their appetites. If they bite, we reel. If they refuse, we replace."
The line went quiet. On their side of the world, the Five Elders exchanged looks that only the very old could share, a blend of calculation and the weariness of men who had seen too many cycles of rise and ruin. The plan they had failed to anchor with Ozz would proceed with his shadow.
Sengoku set his cap beneath his arm. "A policy that uses pirates to govern pirates," he murmured. "If this steadies the era, I will bear the stain."
Kong nodded once. "See that you do."
From the transponder's mouth, Saturn's voice came one last time, placid once more. "Do not mistake our purpose, Admiral. This is not indulgence. It is management. In time, the public will thank you for it."
The snail's eyes drooped as the connection severed.
Sengoku stared at the empty receiver for a long time. The room felt colder than before. Outside, the sea thundered against the Red Line, each wave shouldering into the next, relentless as history itself.
"Saint Ozz," he said under his breath, tasting the shape of the title. Whether the Navy liked it or not, the board had been reset. And Marineford would play the game the Elders had arranged, piece by piece, until the era stilled or shattered.
Kong reached for the documents already labeled in his measured hand: Seven Warlords of the Sea. He tapped the first name at the top of the draft.
"Begin."
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