Chapter 46: Echoes of a Supernova's Fall
The new, advanced Conqueror's Haki thrummed within Ian, a latent power that was no longer mere intimidation for the weak. It was a tangible force, capable of striking the physical world and shattering the will of even formidable enemies. He looked down at Cavendish's body, lying still on the shattered cobblestones, the flamboyant "Pirate Prince" forever silenced.
"I really must thank you for the generous gift you delivered," Ian murmured, his voice devoid of mockery, carrying only a note of cold, professional acknowledgment. "In your next life, I'd advise being a little less handsome. And perhaps... choose a different profession than pirate."
…
One Hour Later. Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral's Office.
The air in Marshal Sengoku's office was thick with the scent of paper and ink, a familiar atmosphere for the three naval legends within. Sengoku and Chief of Staff Tsuru were buried in dossiers concerning new naval cadres, while Garp was, predictably, more interested in the plate of rice crackers on the desk.
The sudden, mechanical whirring of a fax machine broke the quiet concentration. A single sheet of paper slid out. Sengoku picked it up, his eyes scanning the contents. For a moment, he was utterly still. Then—
BANG!
He shot to his feet so violently that his chair clattered backwards onto the floor.
"You scared me, you old Warring States ghost!" Garp barked, a rice cracker crumbling in his fist. "What's going on? Can't you be a little steadier?"
"It's... it's a report from the Sabaody Archipelago," Sengoku managed, his tone a mixture of shock and disbelief. "From T. Peng."
BANG!
This time, it was Garp's chair that flew back, hitting the wall with a crack. "Why didn't you say so earlier?! What happened? That kid has only been out for two days!" He lunged across the desk, snatching the document from Sengoku's hands, his eyes devouring the text.
"Bounty: 280 million... White Horse Cavendish..." Garp read aloud, his initial gruffness melting away into a broad, triumphant grin. "Hey, hey, hey... this kid... Hahaha! That's my disciple for you!" He slammed a fist on the desk, making the inkwell jump. "He just arrived at the Sabaody Archipelago and he's already taken down a Supernova! AHAHAHA! Tsuru, look! What did I tell you? He's absolutely earned a title now! Do you two still think it's too early? What's the big deal? We should have done it sooner! Now those five old fossils in Mary Geoise will have nothing to say!"
He roared with laughter, his chest swelling with pride. Tsuru, ever the picture of calm, ignored Garp's outburst and carefully read through T. Peng's detailed report. The contents were straightforward: Cavendish had initiated the conflict, Ian had expertly evacuated the civilians, engaged in a protracted battle that caused some collateral damage, and ultimately emerged victorious, eliminating the pirate. Aside from the reported length of the battle—"half an hour" seemed a generous estimate for the one-sided slaughter it likely was—everything checked out as a clean, justified operation.
"Your disciple just finished a life-and-death battle," Tsuru remarked coolly, looking over her glasses at the ecstatic Garp. "Aren't you the least bit concerned about his condition? This Cavendish has destroyed every pursuit fleet we've sent after him, including ones led by newly promoted Rear Admirals."
Garp waved a dismissive hand, crumbs flying. "Pah! Don't worry about that! That kid Ian is a Zoan-type! He's ridiculously tough to put down! I couldn't even manage it! Give him a little time and he'll be bouncing around like nothing happened!"
Tsuru: "…"
Sengoku: "..."
They knew Garp wasn't entirely exaggerating. His month of "training" with Ian at headquarters was the stuff of whispered legend. If Garp himself couldn't inflict an injury that required significant bed rest, then Cavendish certainly hadn't.
"Regarding the title," Sengoku said, his voice regaining its authoritative composure. "I did believe it was premature before. Now, however, it seems conferring it upon Ian could serve as a powerful inspiration for the new generation of Marines, a symbol of what they can achieve. I will go to Mary Geoise personally and see this matter through."
A sense of momentous decision settled in the room. A talent of this caliber appearing in the Navy was a game-changer. For Ian to deliver such staggering results on his very first independent mission justified any and all support from the highest echelons. The title they were considering was no mere rank; it was a designation reserved for the Navy's ultimate fighting powers, following the naming logic of [Color] + [Animal]. It would place Ian in the same conceptual league as the three Admiral candidates—a statement of immense expectation and faith.
…
Sabaody Archipelago, District 13, The Rip-Off Bar.
The wooden door creaked open, and an old man with long silver hair and sharp eyes behind round glasses stepped into the dim interior. He carried an air of weathered authority.
From behind the bar, Shakky didn't need to turn around. "Lost all your money? Finally decided to come back?" Her tone was laced with playful reproach.
The old man, Silvers Rayleigh, the "Dark King" himself, calmly took a seat at the counter. "I didn't lose much. It's just that the island has been unusually restless today. You can't hide in a gambling den forever. Sometimes, you have to come out and see what all the noise is about." He accepted the glass she slid towards him. "Although I didn't witness the battle myself, the whispers are everywhere... that Supernova who landed just yesterday, the 'White Horse,' has been killed."
Even with her composure, Shakky was taken aback. The news was that significant. "That young Commodore... he truly practices what he preaches..."
Rayleigh, who had been about to take a sip, paused. "Practices what he preaches? Has Jock Ian been here?"
A reminiscent smile touched Shakky's lips as she relayed the conversation she'd had with Ian before he left to confront his fate.
…
(Flashback)
After receiving Nami's urgent call, Ian had finished his drink and pulled a few Berry notes from his pocket, placing them neatly on the counter.
"Sister Shakky, thank you for the free information. This should cover the drinks."
She had raised an eyebrow. "I thought Marines were broke."
Ian had offered a faint, hard smile. "I prefer to owe fewer favors. It makes things less complicated if a conflict arises later." His eyes had held a glint of cold steel. "Since this 'Pirate Prince' has come looking for a fight, seeking to make a name by taking my head... I must respond in kind. Quickly. And permanently."
Shakky had been genuinely surprised, both by the payment and the lethal intent behind his calm words. She picked up the coins and lit a fresh cigarette.
"Kill him..." she had mused, blowing out a stream of smoke. "You're an interesting one to watch. Garp's apprentice, noticed by the 'Buddha' Sengoku himself... I thought you might be a future moderate, a 'Dove.' But it seems I was wrong. You're a 'Hawk' through and through." She looked at him with newfound respect. "It seems 'there are no thieves in the world' isn't just a clever phrase for the newspapers. But given Cavendish's strength... that's easier said than done."
(End Flashback)
…
Back in the present, Rayleigh listened intently, a thoughtful frown on his face. He took a slow drink, the ice clinking in the silence. "A Hawk, indeed... and one with the fangs to back it up. To kill a Supernova of that caliber so swiftly upon arriving..." He set his glass down. "The winds are shifting, Shakky. It seems the Navy has finally whelped a new kind of hound."