Magellan's tone was firm as he said, "Germa has already given them clone technology. The situation has reached a point where we can't afford to delay any longer."
In the dimly lit room, a wide, heavy table stretched across the center.
Spread neatly across it were classified files marked SSG.
The files seemed to carry endless weight and danger, and a faint medicinal smell drifted from them.
It was barely noticeable, yet it lingered in the air like a ghost, sending a chill through the heart.
Sengoku sat at the table, his gaze fixed tightly on the stack of documents.
His thick fingers hovered above them, the veins on the back of his hand bulging like twisted worms, revealing the violent struggle and conflict raging inside him.
Yet even though his arm trembled slightly, the stamp symbolizing final approval still refused to fall.
"Indiscriminate poison mist attack…"
Sengoku slowly opened his mouth, his voice hoarse like an old bellows, carrying a fear that made the skin crawl.
His thoughts seemed to be dragged back to the tragic scene of Ohara.
Before his eyes, bloody and miserable images flashed one after another.
Civilian ships rocking violently upon the raging sea before sinking one after another into the depths.
Cannon fire pouring down like rain, turning the entire surface of the sea into a burning inferno.
And amid that chaos and despair, there was a mother.
Her eyes were filled with terror and helplessness, yet she still used the last of her strength to throw the infant in her arms toward the only rescue ship that might offer a chance of survival.
In that moment, the baby's cries, people's screams, and the roar of the waves twisted together into a nightmare Sengoku could never erase.
Even now, it still echoed in his mind.
Bang!
Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the oppressive silence in the room.
Sengoku's powerful fist slammed heavily onto the SSG blueprint, the impact knocking over an ink bottle on the table.
Pitch-black liquid gushed from the bottle like evil poison, spreading wildly across the once-pristine white documents and staining the paper in uneven blotches, as if foreshadowing the terrible consequences this plan would bring.
"Rejected."
Sengoku spoke with absolute finality. His eyes were firm and resolute, leaving no room for hesitation.
When the six Admirals received the emergency summons, they hurried over one after another.
At that time, the morning mist had not yet fully dispersed. A thin haze lingered in the air, adding a sense of mystery and tension to the scene.
Sengoku sat at the head of the table, dark shadows beneath his eyes, clearly having gone the entire night without sleep.
But his voice was exceptionally clear and strong, every word carrying tremendous weight.
"The SSG plan is permanently frozen."
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, that is the only thing we have that can oppose the clone army—"
One Admiral argued urgently, trying to persuade Sengoku to change his mind.
"Shut up!"
Sengoku slammed his palm onto the table, releasing a deafening roar that shook the windows.
His eyes widened in fury as he pointed straight at the shining Marine emblem on his chest and shouted,
"Who do you think we are? Justice is not bought by poisoning civilians!
"We cannot abandon basic humanity and morality for the sake of so-called victory!"
Fujitora stood quietly to the side, lightly touching the floor with his cane sword.
In an instant, a powerful gravity field quietly spread outward, instantly calming the commotion inside the conference room.
He raised his head slightly, his sightless eyes slowly turning toward Magellan.
"Mr. Magellan," he said calmly, "do you still remember the oath you swore when you joined the Marines?"
Those words struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.
The conference room suddenly became terrifyingly quiet, so silent that a falling needle could have been heard.
Everyone fell into thought.
In that instant, they all reexamined their mission and their responsibility.
After a long while, Magellan slowly nodded and said in a low voice,
"I understand."
Then everyone's attention returned to the map.
Momousagi's gaze sharpened suddenly.
Her movements were quick and decisive as she abruptly spread open the carefully drawn and detailed sea chart.
She stood tall, carrying an air of determination.
The long blade Konpira in her hand gleamed with a cold light beneath the dim lamps, and its sharp tip landed precisely on the Eternal Divine Kingdom's trade routes.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, filled with resolve and decisiveness, as she said steadily and powerfully,
"Since the current situation does not allow us to use something as vicious as poison, then we cut off their economic lifeline cleanly instead. That is the most viable strategy for now."
The moment she finished speaking, streams of sword energy split from her blade.
The sword energy seemed to answer some unseen call, surging out like lively flood dragons and racing across the spread-out sea chart.
With a faint, sharp hiss, the sword energy carved seven striking red lines deep into the map like an incredibly sharp engraving knife.
Each red line seemed to contain endless meaning and power.
They intertwined with one another, outlining a mysterious diagram that could determine the direction of the war.
Momousagi pointed at the red lines and explained seriously,
"Look. These marked routes are all sea routes used to transport sweets. And that is precisely the lifeline Big Mom values most.
"For Big Mom, sweets are not merely enjoyment. They are emotional support and a symbol of power.
"Once Big Mom loses her supply of sweets for an extended period of time, her already violent temper will inevitably erupt completely, driving her into madness.
"At that point, her entire force may fall into chaos due to the shortage of resources, and it may even trigger a large-scale riot."
Beside her, Kizaru leaned lazily against the back of his chair, a careless smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.
His long fingers casually played with the Ame no Murakumo Sword, which radiated a mysterious light. As he moved it, the blade reflected a dazzling, rainbow-like glow.
After hearing Momousagi's analysis, he gave a light yawn, stretched, and said in a tone that sounded completely unconcerned,
"Mm~ That sounds like a nice little way to pass the time. I can go take a look around there anyway.
"Speaking of which, there happen to be a few slave traders with a death wish who still owe the Celestial Dragons a large sum of money. I can collect it while I'm there."