Sengoku had spent the entire day working in Mary Geoise. From the first light of dawn until late into the night, he finally managed to sort through everything that had happened the previous evening—at least on the surface.
On the surface, according to most testimonies and on-site records, the incident began when Shiki launched a silent attack on Mary Geoise, dropping several miniature floating islands straight from the sky and plunging the area into chaos. Right after that, members of the Revolutionary Army, led by Dragon, inexplicably emerged from the underground beneath Mary Geoise.
As soon as they appeared, they set fires everywhere. Their first target was the Noble Street, and from there they began systematically liberating slaves. Even the Divine Residence was infiltrated.
While part of the Revolutionary Army focused on freeing slaves, another elite unit under Dragon stormed the CP Headquarters in the administrative district. They actually managed to take it. Then, during their retreat, they burned the entire CP Headquarters building to the ground. No one knows how much was lost yet, but without a doubt, a massive amount of classified intelligence has leaked.
Throughout the entire attack, the Revolutionary Army never launched a full assault on Pangaea Castle or the Divine Residence (and later investigations revealed that the Divine Residence had only been infiltrated, with no large-scale disturbance). This made it clear they understood exactly how Mary Geoise operated. Whenever an attack occurred, Mary Geoise's elite forces would focus only on defending those two critical areas. As long as they avoided provoking them, nothing else could stop their movements.
This also proved that the mastermind behind the attack was extremely familiar with the World Government. If it had been ordinary pirates, the first suspicion afterward would have been internal betrayal. But as Sengoku read through the report, his admiration for Ortoren only grew.
By dragging the Revolutionary Army into the spotlight as the scapegoat, Ortoren ensured that no one suspected an insider. With Dragon—once a high-ranking Marines commander—leading the attackers, someone who knew the World Government and Mary Geoise inside and out, the narrative fit perfectly.
"Over fourteen thousand slaves missing, the Noble Guard completely scattered, the entire Noble Street burned to ash, a large number of administrative buildings blown apart, CP Headquarters entirely overrun, the Commander-in-Chief killed, three hundred seventy-two Nobles dead. Estimated losses exceed a trillion Belly, with no precise numbers yet..." Sengoku felt his scalp prickle as he read the report.
And that trillion-Belly figure was likely only the beginning.
Anyone wealthy enough to live in Mary Geoise was unbelievably rich. Their clustered residential district had been burned flat—what did that mean? All their priceless collections—paintings, antiques, rare artifacts, artworks, high-value items—were gone. Either stolen by the Revolutionary Army or reduced to ashes.
That district alone housed over six hundred Nobles. Nearly four hundred died. The lucky survivors—whether not at home or fast enough to escape—still faced the agony of losing everything but their lives.
And that was only the Noble Street. The administrative district had also been heavily attacked, and the confidential files lost there were beyond monetary calculation. Sengoku was certain the total losses far exceeded a trillion.
As he was reviewing the reports, Staff Officer Tsuru lifted the tent flap and stepped into the temporary command tent.
"A large number of reporters have gathered outside," Tsuru said. "How should we announce the Mary Geoise attack to the public?"
Sengoku rubbed his temples. "Since Shiki is already dead, and according to the Five Elders' directive, regardless of whether the Revolutionary Army used him and abandoned him or whatever the circumstances were, we must nail him as the mastermind and make him bear most of the responsibility. After that, we denounce the Revolutionary Army and define this event as a terrorist attack."
He paused, then continued in a heavy tone. "As for the over fourteen thousand slaves who were freed, we were specifically ordered not to reveal their identities. They will be classified as civilians of Mary Geoise. Combined with the casualties among the guards and the Nobles, we'll announce that this terrorist attack launched by the Revolutionary Army caused nearly twenty thousand casualties. Their crime is unforgivable."
The power of public opinion was terrifying. Take the burning of Mary Geoise—yes, the Revolutionary Army had mixed in their own motives, but they really did save more than fourteen thousand slaves from suffering.
Yet because they held no control over the narrative—because the World Government monopolized the voice of authority—even such a monumental achievement would be labeled terrorism.
They launched an unprovoked attack on the Holy Land of Mary Geoise, set the city ablaze, colluded with pirates, slaughtered nearly twenty thousand people, and plundered vast wealth. This was the "official characterization" the World Government imposed on their actions.
As for the mastermind, Shiki was practically the only "tangible gain" they could claim from this entire counterattack. His status and prestige weren't even enough for the role, but qualified or not, the World Government had no choice except to grit their teeth, hype him up a bit, and declare him the mastermind behind the incident.
Otherwise, they would've taken a beating from the Revolutionary Army and pirates for nothing, with absolutely nothing to show for it. How would the World Government save face?
Tsuru clearly expected this explanation and nodded calmly before asking, "What about the other information? Are we hiding any of it?"
"No need to hide anything. We still have to hold a memorial service for the Commander-in-Chief..." Sengoku said. "So announce this publicly as well: before launching their assault, the Revolutionary Army orchestrated a prison break at Impel Down, freeing the captured Shiki. Afterward, Shiki brutally murdered Commander-in-Chief Kessler-sama as he was valiantly defending Mary Geoise. During Shiki's escape, our Navy Vice Admiral Benn Ortoren pursued him through the night and finally killed him at dawn in the Gateway Sea of the New World. As one of the culprits behind this terrorist attack, he has already paid with his life."
Sengoku paused, then allowed a faint smile to appear. "And have Farenkordel give a public apology, taking responsibility for the government's negligence in this incident. He and I already agreed to this."
Farenkordel, the current Chief of the CP Agency, holds a rank equivalent to a Fleet Admiral—actually even higher than Sengoku's own position.
On top of that, relations between CP and Navy Headquarters had always been terrible. Whenever they met, both sides would trade jabs just to feel satisfied. Naturally, Sengoku's relationship with Farenkordel was particularly hostile.
And now, Mary Geoise—the Holy Land and the very core of the World Government—had been attacked. Yet the CP Agency had detected nothing, prepared nothing, and issued no warnings whatsoever. In terms of responsibility, this was an enormous failure, especially because Revolutionary Army matters were primarily their domain.
Ironically, the first person to warn Mary Geoise was Sengoku himself, who happened to be on a Den Den Mushi call with the Five Elders at the time. He told them that the prison break was likely only the beginning of a deeper plan, urging every government branch to stay alert.
Because of this, after the incident, Farenkordel bowed and groveled before Admiral Sengoku, begging him to be lenient during the "accountability process" and spare him.
If Sengoku truly wanted to ruin him, he absolutely had the power to seize this opportunity and have Farenkordel dragged out and executed.
Fortunately, Sengoku didn't intend to push things that far. He only required Farenkordel to come forward, publicly admit his dereliction of duty, and shoulder the primary responsibility on the government's side.
Farenkordel understood perfectly well that once he bowed and apologized publicly, his term as Chief was over. He'd be dismissed early. But at least he could retire instead of facing a firing squad.
Given the scale of this incident, being able to step down alive was already incredibly lucky. He agreed immediately.
"Looks like CP really suffered this time..." Tsuru said, unable to hide a touch of schadenfreude.
Despite the righteous public image she and Sengoku maintained, internal political struggles always involved kicking someone when they were down—especially when dealing with CP. The feud between the Marines and CP had lasted for centuries. With a chance like this, how could she not relish it?
Even the Commander-in-Chief's death didn't evoke any sadness. He had risen through CP, and from the moment he took office, he had been at odds with the Marines. In recent years, as he began considering retirement, he constantly tried to find fault with the Navy, hoping to use his remaining authority to suppress them and secure more benefits for CP.
So despite Sengoku calling him "Commander-in-Chief-sama," he didn't have the slightest goodwill toward the man.
This time, the CP Agency's headquarters had been burned down, their greatest pillar—the Commander-in-Chief—was dead, and the current Chief was about to be made the scapegoat and dismissed. The losses were enormous. The fact that Sengoku wasn't laughing out loud showed remarkable restraint.
Thinking about all this, Sengoku suddenly found Ortoren's reckless boldness much easier to accept.