"It would be great if we had the power of that so-called Sun God, Nika. Someone like Rain—or even Whitebeard—could be dealt with easily."
Saint Marcus Mars's eyes glimmered with regret.
But no matter how they turned the thought over, the truth remained: Nika would never ally with the World Government.
"For now, the only forces we can truly rely on are the Navy… and Vegapunk," said Saint Topman Warcury, his voice heavy with authority.
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, his sword resting by his side, leaned forward coldly. "Double the Navy's military budget. Stop suppressing them. Let them unleash their full strength.
If we overcome this crisis, there are countless ways to deal with the Navy's tail growing too large. And if we fail…" His eyes narrowed to slits. "…then after our deaths, the world can drown."
"…Agreed."
The other Elders nodded one by one. After all, with the Government's foundations badly shaken, the Navy stood as their strongest remaining shield.
If not them—who else?
"In addition," Saint Jaygarcia Saturn added, his tone measured, "the scientific division is already under my command. Vegapunk has ten years. Within that time, he must perfect the Pacifista program and complete the Seraphim. If he cannot… then he will share the same fate as his failures."
He glanced aside. "As for that madman, Caesar Clown… give him funds. Let him forge weapons of mass destruction. We don't need his process—only his results."
"Agreed."
"Seconded."
Not a single objection. For survival, they would trample the world without hesitation.
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter was the next to speak. "And what of the Shichibukai system? Do we continue?"
"Give the Navy their chance," Warcury answered firmly. "If they meet our expectations, we can dissolve the Warlord plan. Everything… depends on their performance."
"…Agreed."
Once more, consensus. Survival demanded cruelty—and cruelty they embraced.
Finally, Mars broke the silence. "And Rain? What bounty should we place on his head?"
Saturn's lips curled in disdain. "A bounty, yes. But more than that—understand this. To attempt capture would be suicide."
"Post a reward. If he surpasses Roger, then set it at six billion."
"...So be it."
The decision was unanimous. By noon that day, the news spread like wildfire across every sea.
"Enemy of God — Rain."
Bounty: 6,000,000,000 berries
Crimes: Destroying the Holy Land, slaughtering the Celestial Dragons.
Status: Kill or capture.
Note: This individual is extremely dangerous and vicious. Any who succeed in killing him will be granted the rank of World Noble.
Shock rippled across the seas.
"Oi oi oi… six billion?!"
"Even the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, was only over 5.5 billion! How the hell does this guy top that?!"
The bounty posters passed from hand to trembling hand.
"Tch, think about what he's done! He destroyed Mary Geoise itself! He butchered Celestial Dragons with his own hands. Did Roger ever do something that insane? Did he ever kill even one of those parasites? No. That's why this bounty makes sense. Rain is on a whole other level."
The world buzzed with disbelief, fear, and awe. Overnight, Rain had become a name spoken in every port, tavern, and kingdom—a legend born in blood.
Navy Headquarters, Marineford
Inside the Fleet Admiral's office, Sengoku slammed the receiver down, his face grim.
"...Did I hear that correctly?"
The words of the Gorōsei echoed in his head, each one a weight pressing on his shoulders.
Six billion. Higher than Roger.
"This is going to bring… incredible pressure." Sengoku adjusted his glasses, his expression turning solemn.
He rose to his feet. "Call Garp. Zephyr. Tsuru. Sakazuki. Kuzan. All senior officers. We're holding an emergency meeting."
Not long after, the summoned officers arrived—some still weary from their return after the Holy Land incident.
"What happened, Sengoku?" Kuzan asked casually as he strolled in, adjusting the cuffs of a sharp new suit he was wearing.
"...Huh?!!"
Garp nearly spat out his senbei when he saw him. "Oi oi, Kuzan! Since when were you rolling in beri? That's a damn expensive suit! You holding out on us, eh?! Making dirty money behind the scenes without cutting us in?!"
The room, heavy with tension, cracked for a moment as laughter and disbelief flickered between the Marines—before the gravity of Sengoku's expression pulled them back to reality.
"Yeah... I'll put aside more pension funds," Kizaru said with an easy smile, as if the room's weight didn't touch him.
"Ahem. Cough, cough. I made a small fortune recently, found a treasure... so I bought new clothes," Kuzan added, deadpan, fingering the cuff of a sharp suit that caught the light. He said it like it was nothing, but the grin that followed refused to be hidden.
Sengoku's eyes flicked to Kuzan and something like amusement and irritation warred across his face. Kuzan's look, for his part, was barely concealed contempt. He had expected Sengoku to move more carefully, not to sell the ruby off like that in a flash.
Humph. Contempt, warm and thin as smoke.
Sengoku, however, kept his face. He only noticed, later, the little glint at the soles of Kuzan's shoes tiny diamonds inlaid there, like a private joke about fortune.
"Alright. Back to business." Sengoku's palm landed on the table with a soft but final thud. The room stilled.
"The Gorōsei have given us an opening," he said.
"They'll give us a chance. Show sufficient capability, and the Warlord system will be abandoned."
"That's good news." Borsalino's smile widened; he relaxed visibly. He'd never been a fan of the Warlord arrangement to begin with. The idea of it being scrapped made him almost childlike with relief.
"Looks like we're about to get into something big," Garp rumbled, a grin tugging at his mouth.
"Those scum should've been cleaned up ages ago."
Sakazuki's said with a grim expression. The man's expression hardened into stone.
Around the table the Marines exchanged glances, jest and levity tangled with a wind that none could ignore.
The world had shifted beneath their feet and now it would be their task to prove they could stand fast.
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