North Sea.
The 1st Navy Branch.
Unlike most naval branches in the Four Seas that are located in towns, this base—being the first branch in the North Sea—is built on an isolated island. Its configuration is the same as the G-series bases of the Grand Line.
There is no town here. No civilians, no shops. Only a towering naval fortress that rises above the sea.
Inside its walls: marines, and prisoners locked away in the underground cells.
It is a pure military stronghold. Outsiders are strictly forbidden.
At this time, Captain T Bone, commander of the 1st Branch, was issuing a sudden order.
"Notify the entire navy to suspend all training."
"Assembly in fifteen minutes. We're heading to the docks."
"We are to greet someone."
Putting down the Den Den Mushi, T Bone turned to his scarred lieutenant.
"Captain T Bone, is the Vice Admiral coming?"
Hearing this, the lieutenant's eyes lit with excitement. When T Bone nodded, he saluted sharply and rushed to relay the order.
Ta-ta-ta—
Within moments, footsteps echoed from all over the base.
Ten minutes later, 250 marines had assembled neatly in the central square. For a North Sea branch, that was already a considerable force.
Even the 1st Branch, the strongest in the North Sea, could not field more than a thousand. Most branches had far less—some a little over a hundred, others fewer still.
The reason was simple: the North Sea was the most chaotic of the Four Seas. Piracy here was rampant, and after Gol D. Roger ushered in the Great Pirate Era, nearly everyone who went to sea became a pirate. Very few chose the path of the navy.
Year by year, the imbalance grew worse. Pirate crews swelled like rolling snowballs, while naval manpower thinned. The profession of a marine in the North Sea became one of the most dangerous paths a person could choose.
As pirates grew bolder, even local brigands often overwhelmed the marines. Cases where pirates stormed branch bases outright were no longer rare.
And so, North Sea branches begged for help from Navy Headquarters again and again.
That was why Staff Officer Tsuru frequently sailed between the Grand Line and the North Sea, keeping a close eye on Donquixote Doflamingo and reining him in when necessary.
It wasn't because the Headquarters had such luxury of force that Tsuru could casually travel to distant seas.
It was desperation. A cannon to swat flies.
And that was also why, when Vice Admiral Rosen emerged, Fleet Admiral Sengoku made the unprecedented decision: instead of sending him to the New World, Rosen would take command of the North Sea.
The purpose was simple—Rosen would be the blade that reversed the collapse of North Sea.
Ten minutes later, T Bone gave the order.
"Move out!"
The troops followed him to the docks, every marine straight-backed with anticipation.
"At ease. Hold formation."
T Bone's eyes scanned the horizon, sharp with respect and eagerness.
The rank and file whispered despite themselves.
"I heard the Vice Admiral is insanely powerful. They say he didn't even graduate from the military academy before reaching strength on par with a Navy Admiral. Is that true?"
"You haven't read the morning paper?"
"No—what happened?"
"The headline says it all. Donquixote Doflamingo has been made one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea."
"…So? What's that got to do with the Vice Admiral?"
"You fool, let me finish! Doflamingo, the so-called King of the North Sea, now wears a collar around his neck!"
"Impossible! Maybe it's just fashion. That man's sense of style is always bizarre—maybe it's jewelry?"
"There are photos. The paper doesn't lie. And Captain T Bone confirmed it last night with nearby branches. The Donquixote family has dismantled its drug trade, released all slaves from their auction houses, and declared they'll no longer plunder civilians. They'll only sell arms to World Government nations and capture pirates for the slave market."
"That's insane! Becoming Shichibukai gives you the right to plunder legally. Why would he suddenly become… good?"
"It's not that Tenyasha has turned good—it's that he's on a leash. He's become the Vice Admiral's watchdog."
"…If that's true, then the whole North Sea is about to change."
"Not about to—it already has. The North Sea has changed hands."
"The master of the North Sea is no longer Donquixote…"
The murmurs spread. Normally, T Bone would have barked at them in silence, but this time he allowed it. His sailors needed hope. They needed proof that justice was still alive.
And Rosen had given them exactly that.
The conqueror of Donquixote Doflamingo, the sword of the Navy in the North Sea.
This victory was more than military—it was symbolic.
That was why T Bone had his men assembled half an hour early. Why his eyes never left the horizon.
The man he was about to greet was not only the commander of the 1st Division—he was the king of the entire North Sea Navy.
Time crawled by.
At last, after nearly an hour, a silhouette rose on the horizon.
At first, it looked like some sea monster breaking the waves.
But as it drew nearer, the truth emerged: a great warship, sails of justice snapping in the wind, cleaving through the sea like a beast unleashed.
For a moment, the marines swore they could hear the roar of its cannons, a wave of power that made pirates across the North Sea tremble.
"He's here!"
"That's the same ship from the paper's photo!"
"The Vice Admiral's flagship!"
Excitement surged through the ranks.
For many of these marines, the Great Pirate Era had been nothing but despair—dreams of justice ground to dust by overwhelming waves of piracy. The wheel of the era crushed anyone who tried to resist.
But now, for the first time, those dreams stirred again.
Because one man had emerged from Navy Headquarters.
One man who defied the tide of the era.
Vice Admiral Rosen, the new master of the North Sea.