Aboard the Soul Society
The summoning ritual ended.
As the blue light faded, a small figure appeared.
Lieutenant of Squad Eleven — Yachiru Kusajishi.
"…Where is this?"
Yachiru looked around in confusion, her clear eyes full of curiosity.
"Yachiru, welcome to the Shinigami Pirates."
Ren Kuro stepped up to her with a warm smile.
"…So this isn't Soul Society anymore?" Yachiru looked out at the endless sea stretching in every direction.
Then her eyes lit up.
"Yay, Ken-chan's here too!"
With a light hop, she landed on Kenpachi's shoulder as naturally as if she had always belonged there.
"So you're the one who summoned me?" She looked at Ren Kuro's face, and after sensing the warmth in his smile, an adorable grin spread across her own.
"That's right. I'm Ren Kuro. From now on, you're one of my companions too." Ren Kuro smiled and gently pinched her soft cheek.
"Ren Kuro, take care of me from now on!"
Yachiru happily clung to Ren Kuro, tugging at his sleeve with a bright, innocent excitement that made her instantly endearing.
Meanwhile — Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral's Office
"Sengoku, are you really going to push that plan forward early?"
From the sofa off to one side, Garp the Fist reached over to the desk, grabbed a rice cracker, and stuffed it into his mouth.
"What choice do we have?" Fleet Admiral Sengoku set down the document in his hand, his expression heavy. "Besides, I just received another piece of news."
"What, more news about Death again?" Garp's face turned a little strange.
Every time new information about Ren Kuro surfaced, it seemed to bring another disaster for the Marines.
Onigumo and Dalmatian had been killed.
Kizaru and Akainu had both lost arms.
Without anyone noticing, the Shinigami Pirates had become one of Marine Headquarters' greatest headaches.
"That's right. About three days ago, there was a fight on Stuart Island. A tavern in the town was destroyed, and one pirate was left gravely wounded."
Sengoku adjusted his thick black-rimmed glasses and lowered his voice.
"That pirate was Crocodile, one of the men we intended to invite into the plan. The one who defeated him was a mysterious man with no prior record in any intelligence files."
"He appears to be one of Death's companions."
Sengoku pulled out a newspaper.
On it was a photograph.
The man in the image was towering and broad, his face twisted into a savage grin. His white captain's haori fluttered in the wind, and in his hand he held a chipped Zanpakutō.
Kenpachi Zaraki.
"So it's the same style of clothing as Poison Blade and Cherry Blossom…" Garp's pupils tightened slightly. With his sharp eye, he immediately caught the important detail.
"Exactly." Sengoku's expression grew even graver. "Same kind of clothing. Similar swords. They most likely come from the same place."
He slammed both fists down on the desk.
"And that's not all. The numbers on their backs are all different. They seem to indicate some kind of special relationship."
"The man who crushed Crocodile so easily should be no weaker than Poison Blade or Cherry Blossom. Three monsters strong enough to pressure Marine Admirals have now appeared at once…"
Sengoku rubbed his temples in frustration.
"…Terrifying."
But that still wasn't the part that worried him most.
"Sengoku, did you notice?" Garp stared at the Jolly Roger in the photograph—the skull flag marked with thirteen Zanpakutō. "That flag seems important."
"…So you noticed too."
Sengoku let out a long breath, cold sweat gathering on his forehead.
"That's exactly what worries me most. Of the thirteen swords on that flag… three already belong to the men currently by Death's side."
"In other words…"
Garp's expression darkened.
"…there may be at least nine more monsters like them."
For a moment, even Garp fell silent.
Thirteen fighters on the level of Admirals fighting together—
the image was almost impossible to grasp.
At that point, the Shinigami Pirates would have no equal anywhere on the Grand Line.
"Garp, now you understand why I want to push the Seven Warlords of the Sea plan forward early, don't you?"
Sengoku sighed helplessly, bitterness on his face.
"You want to recruit Death?"
"That's right. Just being able to unite three Admiral-class monsters under his banner is impressive enough, no matter what his own strength is."
Sengoku spoke from the heart.
"Ever since Roger turned himself in, the seas have only become more chaotic. The Marines are under immense pressure. We barely have the strength to stabilize the Grand Line anymore, let alone deal with the New World as it tears itself apart in its fight over the throne."
"So to maintain order on the Grand Line…"
"…we need pirates strong enough to keep other pirates in check."
"Like Death," Garp said.
"Exactly. At a time like this, provoking him further gains us nothing. Sakazuki and Borsalino still haven't fully recovered. Trying to recruit Death is the better option."
Sengoku's voice turned low and firm.
"And setting those three monsters aside, the fact that he could instantly kill Onigumo alone means he already has the qualifications to become one of the Seven Warlords."
"…It's not a bad move."
Even though Garp still had his doubts about the Warlords system, he nodded for the sake of the bigger picture.
"We don't have much choice." Sengoku finally let out a breath. "We'll send Death an invitation and do our best to bring him in."
"Then do it." Garp grinned and returned to his usual easygoing self, casually stuffing another cracker into his mouth. "If you think it's the right call, go all the way."
"I know."
Sengoku looked at the faint white at Garp's temples, his thoughts growing complicated.
Once, things had been much simpler.
But after taking the seat of Fleet Admiral, the burdens on his shoulders had only grown heavier.
For the sake of justice—
Sengoku had no choice but to compromise.
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