Just then, Vice Admiral Onigumo suddenly let out a cold laugh.
The sharp, grating sound shattered the heavy silence.
Immediately afterward, six cold mechanical arms slowly extended from his back, their movements stiff yet full of power.
He hurled a thick stack of casualty reports onto the table, scattering papers across the floor.
"G-114 Branch suffered three hundred and sixty-seven deaths. Zero survivors."
His voice was low and hoarse, every word striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.
"And there are twenty-seven more branches like that in the New World."
"So what?"
The back of Momonga's hand bulged with veins as he gripped the hilt of his sword. His hand trembled slightly, revealing the violent struggle taking place inside him.
Still, he forced himself to continue, though his voice unconsciously dropped a little.
"Are we supposed to let the Four Emperors… do whatever they want?"
Before he could finish, a piercing alarm suddenly cut him off.
The shrill sound stabbed into everyone's ears like a blade, making their hearts leap into their throats.
An emergency transmission from the observation station connected at once, and the terrified voice of the communications officer burst from the speaker.
"R-report! Kaido's Azure Dragon form has appeared in the waters near G-32 Branch! Big Mom's fleet is also moving rapidly in the same direction!"
The news exploded through the conference room like a bomb.
Everyone's eyes turned at once toward Fleet Admiral Sengoku's empty seat.
All that remained there was a cup of tea that had gone completely cold. The steam that once rose from it had long since vanished, leaving only endless loneliness and helplessness behind.
Momonga took a deep breath, then returned his sword to its sheath with a sharp clang.
The sound of metal striking metal was painfully clear in the silent room, like a helpless sigh toward the fate about to arrive.
As he strode toward the door, the wind lifted one corner of his cloak, accidentally revealing the family photo tucked at his waist.
It was the charm he kissed with deep affection before every deployment.
In the picture, his family smiled brightly, full of warmth and happiness.
But now, that photograph seemed unbearably heavy, as though it carried every attachment and responsibility he had.
"Inform G-32 Branch."
His voice suddenly became terrifyingly calm, without the slightest fluctuation of emotion.
"A fight to the death. Anyone who runs dies."
Outside the conference room, rain poured down in torrents, heavy drops smashing against the ground and bursting into sprays of water.
The fleet was gathering tensely in the harbor, soldiers hurrying back and forth as they prepared for the battle that was about to come.
Lava-like heat turned the rain curtain into rolling steam, blurring everyone's vision and adding a mysterious, tragic air to the scene.
In the mirror of the changing room, Momonga saw his own paper-pale face.
It was not the expression of a warrior charging proudly toward the battlefield.
It looked more like the face of a sacrifice being pushed onto the altar by fate, his eyes carrying a faint trace of fear and despair that was almost impossible to notice.
He slowly put on his Marine cap, covering his slightly trembling brows as he tried to hide the unease in his heart.
But his faintly shaking hand still betrayed the complicated state of his mind.
...
When the Five Elders' cold and decisive extermination order spread across every corner of the world like a deadly bolt of lightning, the entire sea seemed to have been struck by a burning lava bomb.
In an instant, the calm surface of the ocean was completely shattered.
Raging waves rolled like maddened beasts, raising towering walls of water.
The sea, once deep and blue, had become muddy and chaotic, as if endless fear and disorder had been poured into it.
In those turbulent waters, G-8 Branch stood like a lonely fortress burdened with a heavy mission.
Its observation room, usually quiet and orderly, was now filled with suffocating tension.
The reinforced glass shattered with a deafening crash under the furious, powerful punch of Vice Admiral Jonathan.
Countless sharp fragments flew everywhere like brilliant yet dangerous ice crystals before scattering messily across the detailed sea chart spread on the table.
Vice Admiral Jonathan, always known for his calm wisdom and honored as the Fortress Commander, had completely lost his usual composure.
His eyes burned like flames, bloodshot and fixed tightly on the sudden extermination order in front of him.
Blood flowed slowly from between the fingers of his clenched fist, dripping one drop at a time onto the newly delivered order.
That crimson blood happened to soak into the four words written across it:
Kill on sight.
The phrase became even more glaring and blood-red in the suffocating atmosphere, silently speaking of the cruel fate that was about to arrive.
"They've gone mad! Are they trying to drag the entire Marine force into the grave with them?!"
Vice Admiral Jonathan could no longer suppress his shock and rage.
He roared at the top of his lungs.
His voice, filled with endless fury and worry, rang out like a great bell and passed clearly through the shattered window to the lively yet chaotic harbor below.
On the sea below, more than a dozen warships were moving around in disorder like headless flies that had lost all direction.
The chaos was overwhelming.
The White Whale, once an imposing combat vessel, was now a complete mess.
The gun crew, panicking to the extreme, had completely lost their sense of direction and was loading anti-air cannons as if they were flat-trajectory guns.
They hurriedly carried shells back and forth, terror and confusion written across their faces, paying no attention at all to the terrible consequences such a mistake might cause.
On the logistics ship, the sailors were just as chaotic.
In their rush, they had actually shoved torpedo propellers into the launch tubes facing the wrong direction.
That basic yet fatal mistake stood out painfully in such a tense moment. Every movement showed their panic and helplessness, as though the end of the world had already arrived.
Even worse, one terrified lookout, under extreme stress, had suffered a serious lapse in both vision and judgment.
He mistook an ordinary merchant ship in the distance for Big Mom's terrifying fleet and nearly triggered a severe friendly-fire incident.
If it had not been discovered and stopped in time, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
In a corner nearby, Chief of Staff Andy looked haggard. He crouched there with both hands clutching his head, his body curled in on itself.
His eyes were filled with despair and fear as he said in a trembling voice,
"Sir… we just received word. Kaido's fleet has already sunk G-127 Branch…"