The next afternoon, the Marines on the coast began packing up, loading the leftover supplies from the night before onto their ships.
Inside the cliff, peering out through a ventilation shaft, Dragon wore a smug expression. He patted Ivankov on the shoulder and said, "See? What did I tell you? The Marines were only stopping by. There's no way they'd stay here long. Now they're leaving."
Ivankov grinned. "Looks like you really know the Marines. No wonder you were once an elite of Marine Headquarters."
About half an hour later, the warship slowly began to move away from the island's coast.
But Dragon froze in confusion. Scratching his head, he muttered, "Wait... that doesn't add up. Isn't Rear Admiral Benn Ortoren still on the island?"
Sure enough, while the warship sailed away, Ortoren was still sitting calmly on the rocks by the shore, fishing rod in hand, as steady as an old dog, not even twitching.
It was as if he had no connection to the warship at all.
Dragon couldn't help but wonder—had the Marines actually forgotten their Rear Admiral? He almost wanted to rush out and yell, "Hold on! He hasn't boarded yet!"
"What's going on here?" Ivankov asked, eyeing Dragon curiously. "Among pirates, there's a punishment called exile. Traitors are dropped on a deserted island—after a farewell feast, the crew abandons them there to die. Could it be the Marines have picked up this practice too?"
Dragon shook his head, baffled. "No way. At least during my time in the Marines, nothing like that existed. Even if an officer made a mistake, there'd be an internal trial, and the punishment would be imprisonment in Impel Down. I've never heard of anyone being exiled to a deserted island..."
He was completely at a loss, and he couldn't exactly walk out and ask the Marines what they were doing. All he could do was wait and watch.
Before long, Dragon and Ivankov noticed the warship had stopped at the far edge of the horizon, no longer sailing further away.
It was as if someone on board was observing the island from a distance. Paired with Ortoren's odd behavior, Dragon felt an uneasy premonition gnawing at him.
But it was the kind of feeling you couldn't put into words—you knew something was wrong, yet couldn't pinpoint what.
"Maybe he... just wants to stay here for another day? Did he have a fight with Gion?" Dragon said uncertainly.
Ivankov scratched his head. "Isn't tonight a full moon? Maybe he just wants to enjoy the moonlight from the island."
"Hahahaha..." Dragon let out an awkward laugh, then said, "It's fine. We've got plenty of supplies. Even if he sticks around and stalls for half a year, we can handle it. Let's just wait another day and see."
Meanwhile, Ortoren, still seated on the reef, occasionally furrowed his brows. A flash of fierceness would pass through his eyes as the fishing rod in his hands trembled, the taut fishing line showing that a fish had already bitten.
Yet he made no move to reel it in. His mind wasn't on fishing at all.
As the full moon drew closer, he could feel his spirit growing more irritable. But compared to how he had been before leaving Terian Island, he could tell his condition was far better now.
"Focused thinking... maybe that can suppress this growing frenzy..." Ortoren murmured to himself, forcing his thoughts toward the matters he'd been planning lately, trying to see if he had overlooked anything or if there was a better approach.
"Roger... in the South Blue, on Baterilla Island. He married Rouge, had a child. But after his surrender, it brought great harm to this sea. To wipe out his bloodline, the World Government carried out mass killings of pregnant women and newborns in the South Blue..." The memory struck Ortoren suddenly.
He had been so focused on figuring out how to squeeze benefits out of Roger that he had almost forgotten this entirely.
"As I thought... at my core, I'm not exactly overflowing with righteousness..." Ortoren sneered inwardly at himself.
Even now, having remembered, he felt little moral struggle. But since it had crossed his mind, lending a hand where he could wouldn't hurt. It would be a great deed—maybe even earn him some karmic merit.
So, how to solve this problem?
First, the World Government wasn't going to massacre pregnant women and infants everywhere Roger had been. Otherwise, given Roger's past voyages across the globe, they'd be slaughtering people all over the world.
The only reason they carried out the purge in the South Blue was because they discovered Roger had been living peacefully there for nearly a year and a half.
That gave weight to the possibility he had married and fathered a child in the region, and so the World Government chose to commit such a cruel, inhuman act.
Which meant... the way to stop it was to mislead the World Government from the start, so they wouldn't know Roger had settled there. But that plan carried too many risks—better to find someone, or some group, to take the blame.
For instance, Roger wasn't in the South Blue to spend his final years in peace, or to marry, have children, and pursue love. No—he was there for something bigger. For schemes and conspiracies!
For example, he could appear in the South Blue under the pretense of making some secret deal with the Freedom Fighters. While I, Benn Ortoren, was investigating the scholars, I also looked into the Freedom Fighters who might have been in contact with them.
During this pursuit, I happened to discover that Roger also seemed to be engaged in some dangerous cooperation with the Freedom Fighters.
With deeper investigation, I finally tracked Roger's whereabouts and captured him at a certain location.
This way, there's no longer the narrative of Roger hiding in the South Blue and living peacefully for over a year. Instead, it looks like he's been busy. And if the World Government receives this account, they shouldn't need to massacre all the pregnant women and infants in the South Blue, right?
That wouldn't make sense.
The World Government may be filthy and corrupt, but when it comes to such vile acts, they'll avoid them if possible. They still have an image to uphold.
"As for the Freedom Fighters and Dragon... that doesn't matter. They're perfect scapegoats. With their current situation, the World Government would likely buy this story. More importantly, Dragon has no way to prove his innocence. He's the ideal one to take the blame!" Ortoren thought to himself.
Of course, this idea was crude. With his unstable mental state, there were bound to be plenty of holes in it. This was only a way for him to focus his thoughts and keep his growing agitation in check.
As for the actual execution, that would take careful planning. Besides, this wasn't something a mere Rear Admiral could pull off alone. He would need someone influential to endorse it. Otherwise, how could a Rear Admiral just claim to have arrested Roger? Who would believe he had the strength to do that?
Garp would be perfect.
He was Dragon's father, after all. If he personally shifted the blame onto Dragon, the story would sound far more convincing.
The only question was whether Garp would be willing to get involved. But Ortoren figured that if he explained everything clearly, given Garp's personality, he would likely agree.
As his thoughts grew more tangled, Ortoren pushed himself to keep thinking of other issues. The Ohara incident—the scholars—how should that be handled?
Without Saul's capture, could Nico Olvia even be taken in?
And if not, where would he need to start in order to steer that mission back on track?
Sitting motionless on the reef like a statue, Ortoren forced all his focus on these questions as the sky gradually darkened.
The sea breeze stirred the waves, and the sun had already sunk halfway beneath the horizon. The clouds veiling the sunset thinned, allowing faint streaks of moonlight to break through.
Inside the cliff, Dragon sat by the ventilation opening, teacup in hand, watching the scene outside—and the strange figure of Ortoren.
Hours passed, yet Ortoren didn't move an inch. Dragon even began to wonder if the man had died.
But with the warship still stationed at the horizon, he didn't dare test anything. He could only wait. Surely Ortoren couldn't sit there forever.
Taking a slow sip of hot tea, Dragon shifted his gaze skyward. A heavy cloud was dispersing, letting the moonlight gradually spread across the land as the sun dipped fully into the sea.
"A full moon... what a beautiful sight. Come to think of it, it's been a long time since I last stopped to enjoy the moonlight like this..." Dragon murmured.
Just then, a beam of moonlight fell across Ortoren.
Suddenly, a roar like that of a wild beast erupted from him.
In the blink of an eye, Dragon watched in shock as Ortoren, who had sat still all this time, transformed—his short brown hair lengthening into flowing silver-white locks.
"What the...!?" Dragon was dumbfounded.
The very next moment, the island's once calm night sky darkened as storm clouds surged. Violent lightning, like frenzied silver serpents, tore through the heavens again and again.
At the horizon, Gion watched the change in weather above the island and murmured softly, "Looks like Ortoren has started to lose control..."