Chapter 197: Steel Bone Kong!
There had been a time when they could still label the Suzaku Pirates a "dangerous Supernova group," a mere piece on the grand, intricate chessboard of the seas to be calculated against and used.
The initial, carefully crafted plan had been to let that chaotic piece stir up the established, stagnant powers of the New World. The top brass of the Marines had been counting on the impulsiveness, arrogance, and fierce rivalry of youth to act as a natural weapon, hoping the rookies would blindly charge forward and whittle down the forces of the veteran Yonko.
It was supposed to be a war of attrition where the World Government simply sat back and reaped the benefits of mutual destruction.
Yet, the piece had slipped through every single trap, scheme, and predictive model the tactical department could conceive. They had broken the mold entirely, growing at a terrifying, incomprehensible speed into a monstrous, world-ending "beast" that even the old-guard Emperors could no longer handle.
Not only had this newcomer crew crushed the formidable Red Hair Pirates head-on, humiliating an Emperor and sending them fleeing in absolute defeat, but they had also achieved the impossible.
They had slain the fellow Emperor Kaido.
They had violently, thoroughly severed the head of the man known as the strongest creature in the world, subsequently seizing the rich, natural fortress of the isolated Wano Country.
By taking over a land overflowing with billions of Berries worth of weapons factories and Sea Stone reserves, they had finally, unapologetically bared the Suzaku Pirates' bloody fangs to the entire world.
Inside the highest office of Marine Headquarters in Marineford, the air was so thick it felt like trying to breathe underwater.
"The balance of power in the New World... has been shattered."
With that single, profoundly heavy sentence, Great Staff Officer Tsuru ended the frozen, suffocating debate that had consumed the room for the past two hours.
She sat stiffly on the pristine sofa, her hands resting in her lap. Her usually sharp, calm eyes were clouded with an unprecedented layer of dark, swirling anxiety. The ticking of the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room suddenly sounded as loud as cannon fire in the dead silence.
She did not bother dissecting the myriad of reasons why the Marines' brilliant calculations had failed so spectacularly against those "monsters." There was no point in analyzing past mistakes; the catastrophic outcome spoke for itself.
The Marines were already stretched incredibly thin. Between managing the endlessly tangled, explosive relations of the remaining Yonko, dealing with the Revolutionary Army, and the constant, draining need to keep the Four Blues somewhat stable, their resources were practically bled dry.
Years ago, they had virtually abandoned most of their deep-sea strongholds in the New World. It was a necessary tactical retreat to avoid bleeding funds and sacrificing the lives of thousands of good Marines any further in a territory dominated by monsters.
As a result, their actual, physical control over the New World was vastly more nominal than effective. They were gatekeepers, not rulers.
To say nothing of reining in the runaway pirate emperors, they could barely maintain the G-5 branch without constant casualties.
Now, the worst-case scenario had not just occurred; it had been violently exceeded. Even the globally recognized, seemingly invincible "Yonko" had been systematically broken by this rampaging, merciless dragon from across the sea.
One Emperor had been routed, his fleet shattered and his pride broken.
One Emperor had been slain outright, his legend buried in the scorched earth of his own domain.
The fragile, three-way balance of the World Government, the Warlords, and the Yonko that had held the seas in a state of tense peace for over twenty years resembled a small, tranquil pond suddenly struck by a massive, falling boulder.
The resulting ripples were entirely unimaginable.
This was no longer a simple shift in territory. It was a shockwave that would soon swell into a towering, apocalyptic tsunami, a wave of chaos that threatened to devour everything—the Marines, the innocent civilians, and the very foundation of order.
The vast office sank into a deathly, heavy silence once more.
Sengoku the Buddha, the Fleet Admiral of the Marines, sat behind his massive mahogany desk. His hands were clasped so tightly together that his knuckles were entirely white. The veins on his forehead throbbed rhythmically, and a deep, dark shadow was cast over his eyes by his iconic seagull hat.
His pet goat stood quietly by the corner of the desk, sensing the terrifying tension in the room, not even daring to chew on the discarded bounty posters scattered across the floor.
After what felt like a grueling eternity, Tsuru finally spoke again.
Her gaze slowly swept past the hunched, exhausted form of Sengoku, looking out the massive window behind him. She looked past the bustling naval port, past the endless blue horizon, her eyes fixing in the direction of the Red Line.
She looked toward the Holy Land of Mary Geoise, the absolute heart of the World Government's power.
"Sengoku," she said, her calm voice carrying an unquestionable, terrifying weight.
Her words rang out in the quiet room like a great, iron bell, instantly rousing the Fleet Admiral from his dark, spiraling thoughts.
"You must speak to 'them' above."
Sengoku slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting Tsuru's uncompromising gaze. The bags under his eyes seemed heavier than they had ever been, the gray in his beard appearing more pronounced.
"The fallout of this specific incident is far beyond what you or I can handle," Tsuru continued, her voice entirely devoid of its usual warmth. "This is no longer a simple pirate-hunt. This is no longer about bounties or managing territories."
She stood up, her Marine coat fluttering slightly.
"This is a portent of war that could violently shake the world's very foundations. A crew capable of killing Kaido and driving away Red Hair is a threat to the global infrastructure. How to respond to this... is no longer ours to decide."
Sengoku closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, hiding the bloodshot, overwhelming fatigue burning within his pupils.
He was the Fleet Admiral. He was the symbol of Justice. But in the face of two Emperors falling, even he felt a profound, chilling sense of helplessness.
When he opened his eyes again a few seconds later, every single trace of emotion—the fear, the stress, the hesitation—had been ruthlessly stripped away. What remained was only the iron resolve and icy coldness befitting the Supreme Commander of the Marines.
He reached out.
His hand bypassed the towering stacks of casualty reports on the table. It bypassed the cup of premium green tea that had long since gone cold.
Instead, his fingers wrapped around another Den Den Mushi sitting securely in a locked drawer of his desk.
It was not a standard communication snail. It was a Den Den Mushi made entirely of solid gold, its shell meticulously etched with ancient, intricate patterns of the World Government cross. It was a direct, heavily encrypted line to the highest military authority on the planet.
To contact the Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Kong?
Fine. If this was the end of an era, then the World Government needed to prepare for the storm.
Seeing Sengoku's hand rest firmly on the golden Den Den Mushi, Tsuru shook her head. A complex, entirely unreadable mix of deep resignation and faint relief flickered in her wise eyes.
She knew the burden Sengoku was about to shoulder by making this call. She said no more, simply turning on her heel and walking toward the heavy oak door of the office with measured, even steps.
"Sengoku, we're at the absolute end of our rope for manpower," she said softly, pausing just as she pushed the heavy door open. Her cool, analytical voice left a final, echoing reminder in the quiet room.
"This matter is simply too big for Marineford. Tell Admiral Kong everything, and work out a countermeasure together. The fate of the seas depends on it!"
With that, seeing Sengoku's silent, solemn nod of understanding, she stepped out into the hallway and quietly pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind her.
Click.
The sharp sound of the closing door felt like a physical blow. It instantly isolated Sengoku inside the vast, deeply oppressive office.
He was left entirely alone with the faintly glowing golden Den Den Mushi, the rhythmic ticking of the clock, and the suffocating weight of a world-shaking conversation that was about to begin.
The storm of the New World had only just begun to blow, but its freezing winds were already reaching the highest echelons of power.
High above the clouds, far removed from the dirt, blood, and salt of the oceans below.
He was a powerfully built old man, a true titan of a bygone era. He possessed a broad, impossibly thick chest, deeply tanned bronze skin, and stark white hair and a beard meticulously shaped to resemble the imposing character for "mountain."
A jagged, deeply stitched scar ran aggressively beneath his left eye, a permanent testament to the brutal, legendary battles he had fought in his youth. He wore a sleeveless, tight-fitting black shirt that clung to his massive torso, heavily adorned with golden medals that practically gleamed with authority.
His incredibly muscular arms were entirely bare, showcasing biceps that looked like coiled steel cables. Dark-green, militaristic armbands were strapped tightly around them, contrasting sharply with the pale-yellow scarf neatly tied around his thick neck.
Draped effortlessly over his broad shoulders was a custom white-and-dark-gray Commander's overcoat, the epitome of supreme military rank.
He was the former Fleet Admiral of Marineford, the man who had overseen the Navy during the wildest days of Gold Roger and Whitebeard. Now, he sat at the absolute pinnacle of the military hierarchy as the Commander-in-Chief of the World Government's entire armed forces.
He was Steel Bone Kong.
A seasoned, hardened veteran who had literally seen everything the sea had to offer, Kong was a man who rarely, if ever, showed a single flicker of emotion.
Yet, standing in his lavishly decorated office, his massive hand was currently trembling ever so slightly as he gripped the receiver of his own golden Den Den Mushi.
He had just received an emergency, top-priority call from Sengoku. He had just heard news that even his iron-forged heart could not easily take in stride.
A newcomer crew, a group of upstarts who had barely been on the radar a year ago, had completely toppled one of the Four Emperors of the New World.
No, it was far worse than that.
They had not merely defeated the Red Hair Pirates in a skirmish. They had completely routed them, forcing Shanks into a desperate retreat. And as if that wasn't absurd enough, they had simultaneously achieved the unthinkable.
They had slain the man universally known as the strongest living creature, Beast Kaido!
Kong's breath hitched in his throat. He had personally overseen operations involving Kaido in the past. He knew exactly what kind of unkillable, monstrous vitality that dragon possessed. Executions had failed. Torture had failed. Dropping him from the sky had failed.
To hear that a human being had actually managed to extinguish Kaido's life was a concept that violently defied Kong's understanding of the world.
With unprecedented, terrifying power like that suddenly emerging, the entire New World was teetering on the absolute verge of an apocalyptic upheaval.
Once word of this massacre spread through the underground networks and the morning newspapers, the global repercussions would be entirely unimaginable. Every pirate, revolutionary, and ambitious king would be thrown into a frenzy.
Steel Bone Kong immediately slammed the receiver down and rushed out of his office to report directly to the Gorosei.
His heavy boots echoed loudly against the marble floors. He knew, with absolute, terrifying certainty, that the Marines alone were no longer enough to handle this threat. Sengoku was right.
The World Government itself, with all its hidden fangs and absolute authority, would have to act alongside the Navy if they hoped to achieve any result against the Suzaku Pirates.
The Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
Deep within the majestic, sprawling architecture of Pangaea Castle lay the absolute center of the world: The Room of Authority.
This was the true pinnacle of the world, a sacred, forbidden realm entirely cut off from the earthly clamor, suffering, and chaotic violence of the seas below.
Outside its towering, bulletproof windows, an eternal, brilliant white day shone brightly above the endless, pristine sea of clouds. In its meticulously tended, vast courtyards and gardens, every single blade of grass seemed to be measured to absolute perfection, lacking even a hint of wildness.
Inside the massive, high-ceilinged room, a profound, heavy silence reigned supreme—a silence so thick and ancient it felt as though it could freeze time itself.
There stood Steel Bone Kong.
The supreme commander of all World Government military forces, the veteran titan who had roared across the most dangerous seas since the bloody, chaotic days of Gol D. Roger, was now dressed in a crisp, immaculately tailored black formal suit.
He stood entirely motionless, planted like an immovable iron tower in the center of the vast, empty chamber.
His broad back was ramrod straight, showcasing immaculate military discipline. Yet, in his sharp eyes—eyes that had once struck paralyzing terror into the hearts of countless legendary pirates—there flickered a deep, ingrained deference that he himself barely even noticed.
Before him, seated and standing in various relaxed postures across the lavish room, loomed five figures.
They were the absolute "heaven" of this world, the supreme apex of the World Government's eight-hundred-year rule.
The Gorosei. The Five Elder Stars.
"...That is the full, unredacted account," Steel Bone Kong concluded, his deep voice remaining as steady and calm as still water despite the roaring storm in his chest.
He had faithfully, without adding a single personal opinion or exaggeration, relayed the two earth-shaking reports Sengoku had desperately sent from the front lines.
He recounted the bloody rout of the Red Hair Pirates. He detailed the unprecedented, confirmed death of Beast Kaido. He outlined the complete, undeniable fall of the natural stronghold, Wano Country, into the hands of the Suzaku Pirates.
Having delivered the verbal apocalypse, Kong now waited in absolute, disciplined silence.
His muscles were tense beneath his suit. He was entirely ready for the Gorosei's thunderous, world-shattering wrath.
He expected them to immediately stand up, their faces contorted in fury. He was fully prepared to receive extreme, unprecedented orders to muster every single military force available. He expected commands to launch a massive Buster Call—no, something far beyond a simple Buster Call. He expected the deployment of the God's Knights, the Cipher Pol Aegis Zero, and all three Admirals simultaneously to completely eradicate the Suzaku Pirates from the face of history.
He braced himself for the roar of angry gods.
Yet, the expected, explosive fury did not come.
Not even the faintest trace of surprise.
[Akarin Note:
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