It was said that during the annual Fire Festival, anyone who seized first place could directly enter Wano's core military circle.
A perfect infiltration route.
"This is indeed a viable path, but the most urgent matter is still Stussy's side of things."
"Just looking at how the First Core Zone has been laid out, it's obvious that the Flying Sky General is, at heart, a thoroughgoing hedonist."
"Agreed. Let Stussy pour all her efforts into the newborn Sky Kingdom."
"If she can end up sharing a pillow with the Flying Sky General, then forget intelligence gathering—even core secrets could be pried loose."
Inside the Room of Authority, the five elders who stood at the pinnacle of the world calmly calculated their moves, one sentence at a time.
The final decision held no suspense whatsoever:
Stussy would be sent to sacrifice herself—to use the honey trap.
No one could deny it. Stussy's face and figure were universally acknowledged as world-class weapons, perfectly suited to exploiting Tenma's weakness for women.
Especially under the current circumstances—
the Flying Sky General was already a dominant force of the New World.
Rather than scattering their chips like pepper across the other Emperors or the underground rats, it was better to go all-in on Tenma, the fattest sheep of them all.
With the internal schemes against Tenma settled, the next topic was expansion of external forces.
That grand, world-shaking Global Draft had actually been underway for several months already.
The results were immediate and striking.
This time, the Navy had truly combed the seas from top to bottom, dredging up a number of genuine powerhouses.
In just these few months, more than a dozen prospects with vice-admiral or rear-admiral potential had emerged.
What truly delighted them, however, was that they had actually unearthed a monster of admiral-candidate caliber.
That man was Aramaki, who had eaten the top-tier Logia-type Forest-Forest Fruit, a fanatic of absolute justice and a diehard supporter of Akainu.
To the World Government, he was a gift from the heavens—
a perfect attack dog, strong and obedient.
Someone like that had long since been internally designated by the Five Elders as one of the Navy's future admirals.
In truth, there had originally been an even more terrifying candidate—
a man who possessed the Gravity Fruit, perfectly capable of countering Tenma's Float-Float ability.
Unfortunately, before the Five Elders even received the news, that blind man had already been intercepted by Catarina's people.
"Since there are no objections, we'll proceed this way."
One of the Five Elders in a suit brought his hand down decisively, then shifted the topic.
"That mess known as the Seven Warlords system—it's time to patch it up."
The other four leaned forward slightly, their eyes instantly sharpening.
Thanks to that madman Kaido, the Seven Warlords of the Sea now had three empty seats.
Russell and San Juan Wolf had become prisoners, and although Wang Zhi escaped, the moment he tore up the agreement, the World Government had no intention of keeping such a traitor.
"I have two good cards here."
The bald elder in a kimono, sword cradled in his arms, suddenly spoke. Under everyone's gaze, he calmly said two names:
"Donquixote Doflamingo, and Bartholomew Kuma."
The moment those names were spoken, a ripple of reaction passed through the hall.
Their backgrounds were far too complicated.
The former was a fallen Celestial Dragon, cast out and now wallowing as a pirate in the mud.
The latter was even more outrageous—the reigning king of the World Government–affiliated Sorbet Kingdom.
Absurd as it sounded, no one voiced opposition. Everyone knew that if the bald elder proposed it, he already had his calculations.
"Doflamingo's status is awkward—we can't kill him openly, only suppress him in the shadows. But if we recruit him as a Warlord, that mad dog will be on our leash."
"And don't forget—he has countless private connections with that Flying Sky General."
"As for the King of Sorbet, I've reviewed his combat footage. His strength is absolutely top-tier. He more than qualifies to be a Warlord."
"And controlling him is easy. Hasn't Sorbet Kingdom always failed to pay its Heavenly Tribute in full? That alone is enough to keep him obedient."
The scene shifted back to the West Blue, a gangster's paradise ruled by the Capone family.
As the greatest money pit in the entire West Blue, the deafening clamor of Capone Casino usually lasted until the sun rose the next day.
Not only were there gambling tables that could ruin families overnight, there were also underground boxing rings that sent blood pumping.
When night fell, this place became the epicenter of hormones and bloodshed.
Any fighter who stepped onto the ring was a notorious figure of the West Blue.
Millions of beli in appearance fees bought nothing less than brutal, bone-crushing combat.
Tenma sat in the VIP section, lazily sweeping his gaze across the arena, yet failing to find even a single prospect worth a second look.
He shook his head, about to turn away from this nutritionally empty spectacle of violence.
At that moment, the casino doors swung open, and a middle-aged man in his forties walked in.
Neatly trimmed black hair.
A faded, light-purple yukata.
Wooden geta on his feet.
A plain wooden cane in his hand.
Seeing that figure, the corner of Tenma's mouth finally curled into a smile.
The big fish he had been waiting for… had taken the bait.
This man was none other than the monster who, in the original timeline, would be promoted straight to Navy Admiral after the Summit War—
Fujitora, Issho.
But in this timeline, this reclusive powerhouse had not yet been discovered by the World Government.
He had already been located in advance by the Shadow Guard.
The moment Tenma received the news from Catarina, he had rushed to the West Blue without delay.
After all, the construction of the capital didn't require his personal attention.
The only thing capable of pulling him away from his indulgent life was a combat power of Issho's caliber.
Tenma didn't approach immediately. Instead, he watched with interest as the blind man groped his way to a dice table and sat down.
Before long, the expected argument erupted.
A group of ferocious-looking men in black surged out from hidden doors, instantly surrounding that corner of the gambling floor.
Such scenes were common in the casino, but they still attracted plenty of schadenfreude-filled looks from the gamblers.
Especially when they saw that the man being surrounded was a scarred blind man—their gazes grew even more mocking.
"Everyone come judge this! This old bastard can't accept his loss and dares to accuse our casino of cheating?!"
A thug with a red mohawk and bulging muscles shouted at the crowd, then turned and sneered at Issho.
"Blind old fuck—can't even see, and you dare say we cheated? If I want you to lose, you lose. This is my turf!"
The surrounding gamblers nodded along. No one dared offend the local snakes.
A trace of helplessness flickered across Issho's weathered face.
Though blind, the clarity of his heart surpassed that of most.
"Though I cannot see with my eyes, my heart is not blind."
Issho gently shook his head, his tone calm.
"Gambling is meant for amusement. Your despicable methods ruin the mood. Since you refuse to admit it, then I shall take my leave."
As if guided by an unseen eye, he precisely avoided the human wall and walked toward an opening.
But these hooligans clearly had no intention of letting such a fat sheep escape.
The mohawked thug stepped forward, blocking his path once more, saliva flying.
"Leave? Not that easy! You've smeared our casino's reputation and still want to walk away in one piece? How are we supposed to do business after that?!"
"To treat even the blind with such tyranny—one can only imagine how you treat ordinary people on a daily basis."
Issho let out a deep sigh. His wooden cane lifted slightly, revealing a gleaming blade inch by inch.
In his gray-white pupils, a chilling light seemed to flash.
Gravity Blade: Hell Brigade.
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