The banquet did not recover its original rhythm after Dorry's demonstration.
The food and alcohol were still there, and Garp continued treating Marine logistics as if Headquarters had personally opened a private kitchen for him, but clusters of officers now surrounded Dorry and Brogy with the focused expressions of men who had just realized the afternoon's entertainment might contain lessons worth taking home.
John Giant was the first of the defeated Vice Admirals to return.
A Marine doctor had wrapped one ankle and ordered him not to put unnecessary weight on it, which John interpreted as permission to limp directly back to the training field and demand an explanation.
"You moved before Ronse's opening even existed."
Dorry took a long drink before answering. "No. The opening already existed. Ronse just hadn't noticed it yet."
John frowned.
Dorry lowered the barrel.
"You five decided how the formation would close before you started moving. Once I knew what you wanted, I didn't have to wait for the last step."
Several giant-unit officers immediately started writing.
Ronse, still bruised but otherwise fine, folded his arms. "And the shoulder strike?"
"I could have hit harder."
"That isn't what I asked."
"That's the answer. If I hit hard enough to break every bone in your chest, Sengoku stops the fight and I spend the rest of the day listening to Marines complain. I only needed enough to put you where I wanted."
Sengoku, standing nearby with his arms folded, nodded once. That was exactly the lesson he wanted the giant units to absorb.
Garp, naturally, interpreted it differently.
"So the real lesson is that you should only break as many bones as necessary."
"No," Sengoku said.
Dorry rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "That does sound efficient."
"NO."
Brogy laughed so hard that ale spilled down his beard.
The scene became increasingly chaotic as more officers joined the discussion.
Kuzan asked about the timing Dorry had used against the staff wielder, Yamakaji wanted the giant-unit instructors to record the selective Armament application along the weapon edge, and Momonga began comparing Dorry's formation reading to standard Marine encirclement drills.
Chaton arrived halfway through the argument, listened for perhaps thirty seconds, and quietly stole a plate of roast lamb before anyone could assign him work.
Sakazuki remained on the upper terrace.
He had not joined the crowd, and his expression made it clear that no amount of useful data would make him comfortable with Marine Headquarters turning two notorious pirate captains into honored instructors.
Zephyr returned to the terrace after briefly speaking with the medical teams.
"You're still standing up here?"
Sakazuki's gaze remained on the plaza. "Someone should remember that they are pirates."
"No one forgot."
"They are being treated like heroes."
"They passed the Government's combat assessment, cooperated during an Emperor attack, and agreed to train Marine giant units under a provisional charter. You don't have to like them."
"I don't."
"I noticed."
Below them, Dorry was attempting to explain how he had redirected Lacroix's sword into the saber strike without turning the explanation into an argument about Brogy's drinking habits.
Sakazuki watched in silence for a moment.
"Do you really think our people can learn anything meaningful from two captains who spent a century fighting each other over nothing?"
Zephyr's restored hand rested against the stone railing.
"Especially from them."
Sakazuki glanced over.
Zephyr's expression was more serious now.
"They wasted a century repeating the same fight. That made them frighteningly experienced, but it also locked them into habits they stopped questioning.
Then they met opponents who did not move like one another, and they were forced to change. That is a useful lesson for any veteran who thinks experience means he has nothing left to learn."
Sakazuki's eyes narrowed slightly.
Zephyr continued.
"The Marine who stops learning because he reached Vice Admiral is the Marine who eventually meets something stronger and dies wondering why the old methods stopped working."
For once, Sakazuki did not argue immediately.
A loud crash came from below.
Both men looked down.
Garp had apparently tried to demonstrate Dorry's balance-breaking step on John Giant and instead kicked over an empty banquet table.
Sengoku's roar followed almost immediately.
"GARP!"
Zephyr sighed.
"That part is not useful."
Sakazuki's mouth tightened.
"Finally, something we agree on."
By late afternoon, the formal banquet had turned into an improvised giant-combat seminar.
The five defeated Giant Vice Admirals were bruised, irritated, and far too proud to admit how much they had learned, while Dorry and Brogy seemed to enjoy the entire process as long as someone continued refilling the food tables.
Oimo and Kashii remained close to their captains throughout it all.
Their release from Enies Lobby had been made official that morning, and the reunion was still too new for any of the four giants to willingly separate for long.
Sengoku had already made it clear that the Warlord charter would not be finalized until Dorry and Brogy were satisfied with the terms, including the treatment of their former crewmates.
As the sun began to lower over Marineford, Sengoku finally escaped the crowd long enough to retreat toward Headquarters.
Garp followed him with a half-eaten rice cracker.
"Not bad, huh?"
Sengoku grunted.
"The training agreement is useful."
"That sounded almost happy."
"I would be happier if half the officer corps had not spent the afternoon behaving like children."
"They learned something."
"They also drank half the banquet."
"Learning makes people hungry."
Sengoku stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back toward the plaza.
Dorry was correcting John Giant's sword angle.
Brogy had somehow convinced three younger giant Marines to try moving a loaded banquet platform without spilling the barrels stacked on top, apparently calling it "balance training." Zephyr had taken over before it became a disaster.
For all the noise, there was value in it.
More importantly, the giants were cooperating because they had chosen to, not because Marine Headquarters had tried to force them into another arrangement built on lies.
Sengoku exhaled slowly.
"Maybe this one won't turn into a catastrophe."
Garp bit down on his cracker.
"You shouldn't say things like that out loud."
Sengoku looked at him.
"What?"
Garp pointed toward the harbor.
Three black-clad figures had just stepped onto the main pier.
Even from a distance, the white masks identified them.
CP0.
Sengoku's expression hardened.
"...Damn it."