The Holy Land of Mary Geoise.
The Room of Authority.
This place stood as the absolute peak of the world, a chamber designed to allow no direct sunlight to enter. Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a sea of white clouds churned restlessly, but the heavy curtains remained tightly drawn. Only a few narrow gaps permitted thin, oppressive beams of light to pierce the gloom, making the tiny particles of dust floating in the stagnant air visible to the naked eye. Five silhouettes sat scattered across the sofas; in this room, the silence itself felt like a heavy weight of power.
"Kong seems to be becoming increasingly opinionated lately," Saint Topman Warcury, the Warrior God of Finance, remarked. He had a long white beard and a distinctive dot-like scar on his forehead. He tapped his cane lightly against the thick carpet, his voice completely devoid of any warmth. "His proposal to cut basic military spending just to supplement the Heavenly Gold was rejected by him once again."
"His prestige among the soldiers is simply too high," a bald swordsman dressed in a white dogi added. This was Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, who held the legendary First Generation Kitetsu in his arms. With his eyes closed, his thumb rhythmically rubbed the tsuba of the blade. "He has dealt with the likes of Roger, Whitebeard, and that entire lot for far too long; he has probably forgotten who his true master is."
"It is time for him to move," the voice of the giant blond man, Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, rumbled through the room like distant thunder. "The position of Commander-in-Chief of the World Government forces has been vacant for some time now. We should give him a supreme honorary title and invite him here to the Holy Land to spend his retirement. Doing this will also serve as a necessary wake-up call for the rest of the Marines."
"A good proposal," Saint Nusjuro said, his thumb still slowly rubbing the guard of his sword. "Then, what should we do about the position of Fleet Admiral?"
"Sengoku?" Warcury mused aloud. "Although he also talks quite a bit about justice, at least he understands the concept of order and always sees the big picture. He is not like that bastard Garp, who listens to nothing but his own urge to fight. If Garp's reputation were not still useful to us, he should have been dealt with long ago."
"Zephyr is also nearing his end, thinking only of retiring to teach because he has lost his edge," Saint Marcus Mars concluded. "Our influence over the Marine high command is indeed weakening as the years go by."
The room returned to a heavy silence. They were the undisputed kings of the world, yet the Marines, who were supposed to be their sharpest blade, showed clear signs of slipping from their control. This realization made them feel very uncomfortable.
Click.
Saint Nusjuro sheathed his sword, the crisp metallic sound echoing like a final verdict on destiny itself. "We need fresh blood. We must drive a new nail into the very heart of the Marines for us." This proposal drew the immediate attention of the other four elders.
"Speaking of which..." Saint Nusjuro's voice echoed eerily through the dark room. "There is that newcomer named Kane."
The Child of the Storm, Kane.
As soon as that name was mentioned, the atmosphere in the air became subtle and charged. "That stupid bird Morgans is quite good at coming up with those nicknames," Saint Ju Peter said, tapping his finger steadily on the armrest of his sofa. "His resume is very clean—a Marine orphan, born and bred entirely within the system. But his rise through the ranks has been far too fast."
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn's gaze was scrutinizing as he spoke: "The key factor is his ability, the Logia Storm-Storm Fruit. This fruit has been missing from the world since eight hundred years ago, with only the phrase 'walking natural disaster' left in the encyclopedia to describe it. Developed to its limit, one person is an army, even comparable to an Ancient Weapon. To think it was eaten by such a young kid."
"Precisely because of this power, we must be very vigilant," Saint Mars, the Warrior God of Agriculture, said in a low, gravelly voice. "His reputation is already too high. Just look at the speech he gave at the decoration ceremony."
Saint Saturn picked up a newspaper from the table at his side. On the front page was a radiant profile of Kane giving his speech, accompanied by the headline: The Soul of the Marines, the Torch of the New Era!
"'Break free from the cold air and just move upward'?" Saint Saturn read the lines aloud, his voice carrying undisguised mockery. "'If there is no torch after this, I will be the only light'? Well written, I suppose. It is very inflammatory. However, guys with an excess of justice are always the most troublesome."
"The only light?" Saint Ju Peter sneered, his sarcasm blatant and sharp. "Arrogant. In this world, the only light can only be Lord Imu."
Saint Peter shook his head as if he were listening to a joke that wasn't particularly funny. "Justice? On this sea, what we say is justice. A fellow whose head is full of such ethereal things—the stronger his power becomes, the greater the threat he poses to order. Therefore, this summons to the Holy Land is very necessary."
Saint Saturn stood up, walked over to the huge curtains, and looked down at the mist-shrouded world far below. "Bring him here to Mary Geoise, to the very center of power. Let him see for himself how ridiculous the things he believes in are when faced with the true reality of the world. Give him a choice. If he is smart enough to understand what true order and interests are, we do not mind giving him a chance to soar to the heavens in a single step. But if..."
Saint Saturn's hand pressed firmly against the hilt of his cane, a cold light flashing in the thin slits of his eyes. "If he is just a fool full of naive fantasies... then, before he grows into a second Garp, let him disappear in some convenient accident on the Grand Line. The fall of a young genius can also serve to knock Kong and Garp down a peg."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"Seconded."
A white warship flying the flag of the World Government was currently breaking through the waves at high speed, heading straight toward the Red Line. On the deck, Kane wore his brand-new Rear Admiral coat, the salt-heavy sea breeze making the hem flap loudly against his legs. He gazed at the massive silhouette of the Red Line in the distance, which seemed to connect the heaven and the earth, calculating every detail of the upcoming meeting in his mind.
The Gorosei? The kings of the world?
In Kane's eyes, they were just five old men sitting on top of the world's largest gold mine of discipline points. This summons was certainly a crisis, but even more than that, it was a massive opportunity for him to exploit.
"The higher the risk, the greater the reward," Kane sneered inwardly. The one thing he definitely did not lack right now was courage.
"Rear Admiral Kane." Behind him, a cold voice sounded. It carried that unique and unpleasant arrogance typically found in CP0 agents. "We are about to reach the Red Line. I am reminding you one last time. Holy Land Mary Geoise is the residence of the gods. Once you get there, you must put away your Marineford ways. Don't look at what you shouldn't look at, and don't ask what you shouldn't ask."
"Most importantly, watch your mouth," another CP0 agent picked up the thread, his tone full of heavy warning. "In front of the Gorosei Lords, even Fleet Admiral Kong must kneel to speak. No matter what the Lords ask you, you only need to answer with 'Yes'. Any extra explanation could bring disaster upon you, and it might even affect your superior, Sengoku. We are doing this for your own good, do you understand? Rear Admiral."
To anyone else, these words would have sounded like a helpful reminder, but the condescending tone made it clear that they were training a dog. Kane turned around slowly, that warm, spring-like smile still fixed on his face.
"Thank you for the advice, sirs. I, Kane, have grown up in the Marines since I was a child. What I understand best are the rules. As the sword of justice, I will, of course, maintain the highest level of respect for the helmsmen of the world."
His heart was completely untroubled; he actually felt like laughing. Trying to intimidate him? And doing it with just two thugs who didn't even have the guts to take off their masks? Kane's gaze turned back toward the sea. Deep in his eyes, an imperceptible wisp of green airflow quietly drifted out and merged into the dark seawater below.
"Fine, I understand the rules. I just don't know if you understand physics." The smile on the corner of his mouth grew even deeper.
Suddenly, the originally steady warship jolted violently!
The deck beneath their feet tilted sharply to the side. The previously calm sea had, without any warning, whipped up giant waves several meters high that slammed fiercely against the ship's hull!
"What is going on?!" The two CP0 agents stumbled and nearly fell over the railing, their faces showing genuine shock for the first time.
Kane, however, stood as steady as a rock, not even the corner of his heavy coat swaying in the wind. He looked at the two masked men who were currently struggling to maintain their balance in the sudden turbulence, and the smile on his face became playful.
"Steady yourselves, sirs. The weather on this sea is just that unpredictable."
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Quick update: I wasn't able to upload chapters for a few days due to laptop issues. I had informed earlier, and things are stable now. Uploads will continue regularly from today, along with pending and bonus chapters. Thank you for your patience.
You can read advanced chapters here: patreon.com/GregariousLion
