At Naval Headquarters, the Marshal's office was unusually quiet.
Only Sengoku and Tsuru were inside.
Normally, the peaceful silence would be broken by the sound of Garp crunching on senbei without a care in the world. But Garp had left for the East Blue the day before, taking a vacation — or at least that was the official reason. In truth, he had gone to cool his temper.
Everyone in the Navy knew Garp's open disdain for the Celestial Dragons. The last time he was forced to attend one of their so-called "god's funerals," he'd made it clear he didn't want to go. It was only after repeated requests from Kong, the former Fleet Admiral, that Garp reluctantly agreed. Kong had been a good friend to him, and in the days when Kong still held the title of Marshal, Garp had admired him greatly. Out of respect, he went.
The funeral itself had been tense. During the ceremony, one Celestial Dragon loudly demanded that Marines be provided as slaves. With no slaves left to abuse, their "entertainment" was gone, and they wanted replacements. Another even specified that they wanted a female Marine — having spotted one in the crowd they found attractive.
That was the moment Garp nearly lost it. His fist had been a heartbeat away from crushing the Celestial Dragon's skull when Sengoku and several others restrained him. If they hadn't intervened, the noble's head would have burst like an overripe watermelon.
The Celestial Dragon had been so terrified that he'd actually wet himself on the spot. Many Marines had to fight the urge to laugh, though no one dared to show it.
The truth was, no one in the Navy liked the Celestial Dragons. At best, they tolerated them; at worst, they despised them. Garp simply had the courage to act on it.
When Garp stormed out afterward, the Celestial Dragons were left shaken. Without their slaves, they were like crippled royalty, unwilling to even leave Mariejoa. And now, thanks to Vane's rampage months earlier, they feared more than just humiliation.
Vane had killed Celestial Dragons without hesitation, sparing only Doflamingo. He didn't care about their "divine status" or their claims of being the creators of the world. To him, they were pigs in human clothing. Since emerging into the seas, the number of Celestial Dragons he had slain had reached a staggering one hundred and forty-three.
The relationship between the Navy and the World Government was more strained than ever.
"I'm not used to that old fool Garp being gone," Sengoku muttered, frowning. He had even hidden away ten packs of senbei for his friend to steal — a long-running habit in their decades of service together.
"He probably won't be back for a month or two," Tsuru said calmly. "He's busy training his grandson."
Sengoku let out a sigh. "Now that he's offended the Celestial Dragons again, who knows what will happen next…"
"The higher-ups won't touch him," Tsuru assured. "For all their arrogance, the World Government values its image. Garp's achievements are untouchable. They wouldn't risk the backlash."
Sengoku's brow furrowed. "I'm worried he might end up like Zephyr. You know how disappointed he is with them. He hasn't returned to Headquarters in ages… I fear he might actually defect one day."
Years ago, Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr, and Tsuru had been the four shining stars of their generation in the Navy. To think it could come to this was troubling.
Tsuru gave a slow shrug. "Hard to say."
"The Celestial Dragons even took more than half of our operating budget," Sengoku growled.
The extravagant funeral had drained massive amounts of Berries. On top of that, when Vane had invaded Mariejoa, the destruction had been catastrophic. The Celestial Dragons had lost their wealth in Berries entirely, holding only gold, silver, and gemstones. To fund their lavish display of "divine mourning," they had cut into the Navy's budget.
The Navy's expenses — from Headquarters down to every branch across the world — were astronomical. Funds came from the World Government, which collected taxes from all allied nations before allocating money to the Navy. Now, the Celestial Dragons had decided their funerals and reconstruction were more important than military readiness.
Sengoku clenched his jaw. To him, burying the corpses of Celestial Dragons in the ground would only contaminate the soil; better to burn them and scatter the ashes.
The reconstruction of Mariejoa was equally outrageous. Every building had to be the most luxurious in the world, built from the finest materials, by the greatest craftsmen and architects money could buy. No expense was spared to remind the world of their "godly" nobility.
Many Marines saw the Celestial Dragons for what they were — parasites, bloated with greed and entitlement. But as the so-called rulers of the World Government, they remained untouchable.
Lately, Sengoku had caught himself thinking dangerous thoughts: that perhaps he should have let Vane and his allies finish the job at Mariejoa. But he quickly crushed such ideas. They were not befitting of a Fleet Admiral's principles.
"I wonder what that monster Vane is up to now," Sengoku said at last. "I can't shake the feeling he's planning something."
At the moment, Vane and Kaido were both in Wano — two Emperors occupying the same territory. In the New World, such coexistence was rare, an unspoken rule among Emperors to avoid each other's turf. Now, that rule had been shattered, and the world was watching with dread.
Two of the most dangerous men alive, together in one place.
And the world was terrified.
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