"The Marines only need to handle your own responsibilities. There is no need for you to concern yourselves with anything else."
With that, Saturn ended the call without giving Sengoku another chance to argue or make another request.
Click.
The Transponder Snail fell silent.
Sengoku slowly lowered the receiver, the movement seeming far heavier than it should have been. Then he raised his head and looked toward Garp and Tsuru, both of whom had been watching him throughout the conversation.
A bitter smile spread across his face.
It looked worse than if he had simply broken down.
"The higher-ups said…"
His voice carried a faint tremor that he could not entirely suppress.
"…we should hold on a little longer."
"The research has reached a critical stage. They won't divert resources away from it."
He paused before continuing.
"The public execution will proceed as planned."
Then, after another brief silence:
"The God's Knights will send people to 'observe.'"
The office became completely still.
Garp's fists tightened until his knuckles turned pale, the joints cracking sharply in the silence. Veins stood out across his forehead as he struggled to contain the anger boiling inside him.
Tsuru slowly closed her eyes.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips.
She had dedicated nearly her entire life to the Marines, yet at this moment, the World Government's attitude left even her feeling powerless.
Their response had been painfully clear.
Marine casualties did not matter enough to change the plan.
The devastation of Marineford did not matter enough to divert reinforcements.
The World Government cared first about protecting its own authority, its research, and the Holy Land.
The Marines were expected to endure whatever came next.
And the God's Knights' promise to appear at the execution hardly felt like support.
If anything, the way Saturn had presented it made the offer feel almost insulting, as though Marine Headquarters should be grateful merely because several of them might attend.
For Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru, the message behind it was impossible to ignore.
The Marines had always believed themselves to be a force that existed to uphold justice and protect the seas.
But in the eyes of the World Government, perhaps they were ultimately nothing more than a useful piece on the board.
A shield.
A weapon.
Something to be praised when it served its purpose—and sacrificed without hesitation when circumstances demanded it.
The public execution one month from now now felt more ominous than ever.
It was already certain to attract danger from every direction.
The surviving Revolutionary Army forces could come.
The Eternal Divine Kingdom could become involved.
Other factions might seize the opportunity to act.
And once again, Marine Headquarters was being pushed directly into the center of the storm while receiving little meaningful support in return.
Sengoku eventually raised his head.
His gaze lingered on Garp and Tsuru.
There was frustration in his eyes.
Anger.
Guilt toward the comrades he had failed to protect.
And beneath all of that, something harder was beginning to take shape.
Saturn's response had extinguished what remained of Sengoku's faith that the World Government would step in when the Marines truly reached their limit.
Now he understood.
If the people above them cared only about preserving their authority and carrying out their plans, regardless of how many Marines had to die along the way, then Marine Headquarters could no longer rely on them to protect its future.
If they wanted to survive—
they might have to find another way themselves.
Perhaps not the officially approved way.
Perhaps not even the path the World Government would consider "correct."
But one that kept the Marines alive.
Sengoku drew a slow breath.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he finally spoke.
"Leave this matter as it is for now."
He gave a tired wave of his hand.
"We'll deal with things as they come."
The words sounded resigned, almost as though he had accepted that there was nothing more they could do.
But just as Garp and Tsuru thought that was the end of it, Sengoku's expression suddenly changed.
The exhaustion remained.
Yet his eyes became razor-sharp.
He turned directly toward Tsuru.
"However…"
...
Sengoku's gaze hardened with unmistakable resolve.
"Tsuru, pass down my orders."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried enough weight to make both of his old comrades focus immediately.
"Effective today, raise the threat level and pursuit priority of the Eternal Divine Kingdom and its core members—Ron, Jozu, Bullet, Crocodile, Katakuri, and the others—to the highest possible level."
He paused briefly.
"Place them alongside Revolutionary Army leader Dragon."
The order carried far more meaning than it appeared to on the surface.
Officially, Sengoku was declaring the Eternal Divine Kingdom one of the greatest threats facing the World Government.
But it was also his answer to the people above him.
If Marine Headquarters was expected to confront an enemy this dangerous while receiving so little meaningful support, then Sengoku would make absolutely certain that the threat was documented for what it truly was.
More importantly, the designation would give the Marines justification to concentrate their remaining intelligence resources on the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
They needed information.
Detailed information.
Its territory.
Its command structure.
Its military forces.
The abilities of its core members.
Its technologies.
Its alliances.
Everything.
If another clash was unavoidable, Sengoku refused to allow the Marines to enter it as blindly as they had before.
In that sense, assigning the highest possible priority did not merely represent hostility.
It represented the highest degree of caution and attention Marine Headquarters could give an enemy.
Only by treating the Eternal Divine Kingdom as an opponent equal in importance to the Revolutionary Army could the Marines begin building a complete picture of what they were actually facing.
Tsuru stared at Sengoku for a moment.
She understood immediately.
This was not simply another bounty order.
Her old friend was beginning to prepare the Marines for whatever came next.
She gave a slow nod.
"I understand."
Her expression sharpened.
"The order will be distributed immediately."
A brief silence followed.
Then Tsuru added quietly, "It seems we really do have to do this."
Garp remained with his arms crossed.
"Hmph."
He said nothing more, but the approval in his eyes was obvious.
If they were temporarily too weak to confront Ron's forces directly, then the very least they could do was understand them.
They could not afford another disaster caused by charging headfirst into an enemy they barely knew.
Sengoku finally turned away from the ruined view outside the window.
"Get to work."
His voice sounded exhausted, but the determination behind it had returned.
"First, clean up the mess in front of us."
"As for what happens one month from now…"
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"…we'll deal with it when the time comes."
The three veterans exchanged looks.
No further words were needed.
They had spent too many years together not to understand one another.
The world they had known was changing.
Absolute strength was tearing through old rules and institutions, while cold political calculations trapped everyone beneath them.
For decades, the Marines had stood as one of the great pillars maintaining order across the seas.
Their flag had represented Justice throughout the world.
Yet recent events had forced even men and women like Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru to confront an uncomfortable truth.
Before overwhelming power and the interests of those who controlled the World Government, even the Marines could find themselves frighteningly powerless.
If they wanted the organization to survive—and preserve whatever remained of the ideals they had spent their lives defending—they would have to find a new path through the narrow space left to them.
Raising the Eternal Divine Kingdom to the highest intelligence and threat priority was the first step.
They could no longer afford to underestimate Ron.
They could no longer afford to underestimate the monsters gathered beneath his banner.
And they certainly could not afford to repeat their previous mistakes.
...
The following morning, sunlight filtered through a thin veil of clouds.
Across the seas, the familiar fluttering of News Coo wings announced the arrival of the latest edition of the World Economic News Paper.
Within hours, the news spread across the world like a tidal wave.
The front-page headline was printed in enormous black letters.
TWO EMPERORS RAID MARINEFORD! ETERNAL DIVINE KINGDOM'S KAIDO AND BULLET DEAL DEVASTATING BLOW TO MARINE HEADQUARTERS!
Readers everywhere froze when they saw it.
Marineford.
The center of Marine power.
The fortress that had stood for generations as one of the greatest symbols of authority and Justice on the seas.
And now—two monsters serving the Eternal Divine Kingdom had attacked it directly.
The implications sent shock waves throughout the world.