Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
Pangaea Castle, Room of Authority.
The five elders standing at the pinnacle of world power were watching the large visual den den mushi screen in front of them.
On the screen, the image was frozen on Tatsuki's blood-stained, righteous face and his deafening lines.
"Pfft..."
Saturn, the Warrior God of Science and Defense with long white curly hair, let out an irrepressible chuckle, his cane tapping a cheerful beat on the carpet.
"What a performance."
"If I hadn't seen that kid's greedy face before, even I might have believed his righteous nonsense."
"Hehehe, but this is exactly the hero we need." Peter held his red tea, the corners of his lips curling up in an expression of ease and control.
"Even if his heart is full of Berries and power, he can still shout for the greater good until he's hoarse."
"This kind of clever person, who has both strength and knows the rules, is ten thousand times more useful than the stubborn types like Sengoku and Zephyr who only have justice in their heads."
"One billion Berries."
Warcury, the Warrior God of Legal Affairs, leaned back on the sofa, his fingers gently stroking his chin, his tone playful.
"We only gave him a billion in annual operational funds, and he delivered us this grand gift of Roger."
The Warrior God of Finance, Nusjuro, who was holding the Shodai Kitetsu, slightly retracted the sharp glint in his eyes. He pushed up his glasses, scrutinizing Tatsuki's figure on the screen.
"The power of the Storm-Storm Fruit has been developed to a fearsome level. One could even say that if this power were in anyone else's hands, it would be a massive headache."
"But precisely because the one wielding this power is Tatsuki, it has become our good fortune."
Nusjuro's tone shifted, carrying an absolute arrogance that suggested control over all things.
"The more powerful a weapon is, the more it needs an obvious weakness."
"And this kid's weakness is far too obvious—greed, ambition, and a pathological desire for power."
"As long as we still sit in these positions, as long as we can give him what he wants, this sharp blade will be devotedly used for our sake."
"Indeed." Warcury nodded, a sharp light flashing in his eyes.
"Since he wants fame and status, give it to him."
"Send down the order."
Nasujuro made the final decision, his voice booming and echoing within the Room of Authority.
"Let that old fellow Kong personally go to welcome our hero."
"Make the spectacle as large as possible. Let the whole world see clearly how glorious it can be to be loyal to the World Government."
"Furthermore, preparations for the public execution of Gol D. Roger can begin."
"Since Tatsuki is such a useful blade, we will use the Pirate King's blood to sharpen his edge."
"And while we're at it, we shall initiate a new era of absolute justice, completely under our control."
...
Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral's Office.
An encrypted den den mushi suddenly rang.
Kong answered, and from the other end came the steady voice of the Gorosei, which he would never dare to disobey.
After the call was hung up, Kong was so excited that his whole body was trembling slightly.
The Marines needed this victory too badly.
The era represented by Roger had caused the Marines' prestige to drop to freezing point.
Now, Tatsuki had captured Roger. This wasn't just a merit, it was a potent shot of adrenaline for the demoralized Marines.
Kong turned abruptly to face everyone in the office. "Prepare the highest-specification welcoming ceremony! I will personally go to the harbor to welcome our hero's return!"
His voice carried a hint of irrepressible excitement and fanaticism. "Additionally, notify everyone immediately to prepare for a promotion ceremony! The sea needs a new hero, a new supreme combat power!"
"The Marines are about to have a third Admiral!"
—
New World, Punk Hazard.
When that emergency extra edition of the newspaper scattered across the fortress like snowflakes via the News Coos, the entire G-5 Branch went completely insane.
"Boss!"
"It's Boss! Boss took down the Pirate King!"
"Wahahaha! Who dares call our G-5 a den of thugs after this?"
An old veteran with a scar on his face, his eyes bloodshot, slammed his hand of bad cards onto the table.
"Listen up, you pieces of trash!"
He jumped onto the table, pointing at his chest and roaring, "We are the subordinates of a hero! Do you understand what kind of prestige that carries?!"
In the plaza, hundreds of once-ferocious rogue soldiers were now throwing their newspapers high into the sky like children.
Countless papers printed with Tatsuki's "battle-damaged look" fluttered through the air, the scene rivaling the grandest of festivals.
They were shirtless, their muscular arms locked around each other as they wept tears of joy.
Some even hoisted giant beer barrels, guzzling them down as alcohol mixed with hot tears spilled all over the ground.
This was G-5's carnival, celebrating the glorious victory of the only man they ever acknowledged.
...
Inside the Governor's Mansion.
Even through the thick bulletproof glass, the mountain-shaking waves of sound from outside made one's heart tremble.
Inside the room sat a luxurious lineup capable of making the future order of the seas shudder.
"How scary."
Borsalino held the newspaper, his eyes behind his amber sunglasses wide as saucers, his signature crooked expression looking exceptionally genuine for once.
"Is this what Tatsuki meant by going to the South Blue to clear his head?"
"He arrested Roger all by himself. The jaws of those guys at Marineford are probably hitting the floor right about now, aren't they?"
Sakazuki sat on the sofa, still wearing his cap even indoors. At this moment, the iron-blooded hardman who practiced "absolute justice" had fingers that trembled slightly as they held his cigar.
He looked at the photo in the paper of Tatsuki, covered in blood, leaning on his blade as Roger knelt before him.
That intensity.
That tragic heroism.
That resolve to burn every last drop of blood for the sake of justice.
"Phew..."
Sakazuki exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, his eyes actually reddening slightly, his voice low and raspy. "Tatsuki... to carry out justice, he actually pushed himself to such an extent. He is a true soldier."
Beside him, Kuzan took off his sleep mask and scratched his fluffy curls, unusually devoid of any sleepiness. "Arara... this has really stirred up a massive amount of trouble."
Kuzan let out a long sigh, and though he spoke of trouble, the corners of his lips couldn't help but curl into an amused smirk.
"If he can even handle a monster like Roger, the threshold of our G-5 Branch is probably going to be trampled flat by Marine elites from all over the world."
"Should I submit my retirement application early and live a leisurely life sleeping twenty hours a day?"