Gern paused slightly as his eyes settled on the wanted poster.
Sensing the shift in his expression, Asahi hurriedly added,"Gern, I know it's only a matter of time before you're promoted to Marine Headquarters! Someone with your talent staying in the West Blue is nothing short of a waste!"
His smile stiffened as he spoke, the enthusiasm forced.
"I—I mean… after all, you did come from our 133rd Branch…"
Gern finally stopped walking and turned to face him.
Of course, he understood what Asahi was getting at.
This wasn't the era that would come later—when Marineford had a more standardized system. Right now, positions at Headquarters were extremely limited. Anyone who made it there was, without exception, a rising star among the Four Blues.
That was why Marines of this era felt such attachment to their place of origin.
Just like Garp—despite graduating from Marine Headquarters' academy, he still returned to the East Blue time and again.
It was pride.And it was loyalty.
Inside the office, the fading sunset streamed through the window, casting sharp shadows across Gern's face.
"Branch Chief," he said calmly, "I am from the West Blue."
Those simple words made Asahi's face flush red, beads of sweat forming across his brow.
"Haha—of course! Of course!" he stammered."Gern Reginald Sigmar is our pride—the pride of the West Blue!"
Gern watched him with quiet understanding.
The West Blue had always been treated as a backwater within the Marines—little more than a dumping ground.
For someone like Asahi, who would likely spend his entire career in a branch office, having an elite officer rise from his jurisdiction meant political capital, influence, and resources.
If Gern established himself at Headquarters, the West Blue would reap the rewards.
"You don't need to worry," Gern said softly. "This is my starting point, after all."
Relief flooded Asahi's face, his cheeks wobbling as he laughed nervously.
"Wonderful! Truly wonderful! Gern, I'm telling you—your promotion to Headquarters is inevitable! You're just missing one final achievement!"
He slapped the wanted poster enthusiastically.
"That much is true." Gern nodded, already turning away.
Asahi hurried after him but stopped short when Gern cast him a glance.
"I want some time alone."
"Y-Yes! Of course! Please rest!" Asahi bowed repeatedly, then barked at nearby soldiers,"What are you all staring at?! Get back to work!"
The harbor behind the 133rd Branch was quiet as Gern walked alone toward the cliff.
From here, the entire West Blue stretched endlessly beneath the fading sky.
The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a deep violet twilight.
He removed the black blade Eight Desolations from his back, fingers brushing gently over the bandages wrapped around it.
A year had passed.
In that time, he had wiped out sixteen pirate crews, nearly purging the West Blue clean.
And yet…
In the eyes of the monsters gathered in Marine Headquarters, these "achievements" meant nothing.
Whitebeard was searching the seas for his sons.Golden Lion had already seized dozens of islands.Roger's fleet moved unseen, like a shadow looming over the world.
And at Marine Headquarters—Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr… those names represented true power.
"The West Blue is too small…"
Gern raised his hand. A sphere of pure white vibration formed in his palm, glowing faintly like a compressed star.
The Tremor Fruit was far from fully mastered. Developing it wasn't simple—every technique required absolute precision.
So far, he had only grasped the fundamentals:elemental transformation, defense, offense, shockwaves, short-distance displacement…
But the Tremor Fruit's lower limit was already absurdly high.
As for its upper limit?
With knowledge from another world, he knew there was almost no ceiling.
"And Haki…"
Gern clenched his fist. The vibrating light flared, distorting the air around it.
He had tried to train it using what he remembered from stories—but achieved nothing.
Without Armament Haki, even a Logia user couldn't stand against the truly powerful.Without Observation Haki, even intangibility wouldn't save him from those who could predict movement.
As for Conqueror's Haki…
"Zephyr…"
A sharp glint flashed through Gern's eyes.
The man known as Black Arm Zephyr—the pinnacle of Armament Haki.
If he could receive guidance from him…
The sea wind howled, snapping Gern's cloak behind him.
He turned his gaze toward the distant silhouette of Marineford, eyes steady and resolute.
Once the Blood Spear Pirates were dealt with, once his record was solid enough—
That would be his next destination.
Meanwhile, in the shadows near the harbor…
Branch Chief Asahi stood hunched, clutching a bag of cold rice balls—the ones he had originally planned to personally deliver.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, glistening beneath the dim lamplight as his fingers tightened around the bag.
"So similar… far too similar…"
His pupils trembled as an image surfaced in his mind—
Four years ago, during the assault on the Rocks Pirates…A monster who shattered an entire island and summoned a tsunami with sheer force.
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear he'd eaten that man's Devil Fruit…"
He had seen it with his own eyes just moments ago—the vibrating light forming in Gern's palm.
That terrifying, space-rending tremor.
Fear crawled up his spine.
And yet, beneath it… exhilaration bloomed.
Like a gambler who had bet everything on the winning hand.
"This kid…" Asahi licked his dry lips, a grotesquely eager grin spreading across his face."He's only fifteen… even younger than those three monsters at Headquarters…"
"He's going to become someone incredible."
He glanced back toward the cliff, where Gern's silhouette had already vanished.
A splash echoed as his shoe stepped into a puddle, the sound startling him into freezing in place.
Only after confirming Gern hadn't noticed did he let out a shaky breath and retreat.
"I was the first one to grab onto this thigh," he muttered smugly.
His thoughts raced ahead.
When he becomes a Vice Admiral—no, maybe even an Admiral…
This whole West Blue will be upgraded to a regional command!
And I'll be the commander of it all!
A cold night wind swept through the harbor, making him shiver.
"No time to waste," he muttered."I need to gather everything we know about the Blood Spear Pirates… and send our 'Star of the West Blue' straight to Headquarters!"
He glanced once more toward the cliff.
Gern was already gone.
Only the sound of waves crashing against stone echoed through the darkness.