"Seven Warlords? I'm not interested."
Ren Kuro rejected Momousagi's invitation without hesitation.
Given his current position—
with three Admiral-level subordinates at his side, he didn't need the World Government's protection to secure freedom and status. He could maintain a neutral position on his own terms.
At least—
until Sakazuki and Borsalino fully recovered, Marine Headquarters wouldn't dare make a move against him.
No need for recognition.
No need for protection.
The title of Seven Warlords had no value to him—
if anything, it would only become a chain.
"…What?"
Momousagi's face flushed red.
She had been certain this was a guaranteed success.
Yet she had been rejected instantly.
To most pirates, becoming one of the Seven Warlords was an irresistible opportunity.
So why—
did it hold no appeal for this man?
Could it be…
He truly intends to stand against the Marines?
Suppressing the storm of thoughts in her heart, she spoke again, her tone sharp.
"Death, I urge you to reconsider."
"Only pirates with great fame or overwhelming strength are eligible to become Seven Warlords—and you are the very first person we've invited!"
"So what?" Ren Kuro remained expressionless.
"This is clearly a win-win arrangement!" she pressed on. "You shouldn't reject it so lightly!"
Even after experiencing Kenpachi's overwhelming terror, Momousagi still refused to give up.
The atmosphere turned heavy.
Ren Kuro said nothing at first—
but the slight frown on his face already revealed his displeasure.
Her persistence had begun to irritate him.
"…Didn't you hear me?"
His voice dropped.
Each word was slow and deliberate.
"I. Refuse."
The moment those words fell—
his aura changed.
A vast, overwhelming Reiatsu erupted from his body.
It was impossible to describe.
Like an eagle soaring across the heavens.
Like a dragon coiling in the abyss.
A single cold glance—
was enough to drag someone into despair.
"…This pressure…"
Momousagi's heart clenched.
If this continues…
I might actually be killed.
Under that suffocating presence, the shadow of death wrapped around her.
No matter how stubborn she was—
no matter how unwilling she felt—
instinct took over.
Survival won.
She stepped back.
She chose to retreat.
The moment she did—
the overwhelming pressure vanished.
Everything returned to normal.
Ren Kuro's anger faded just as quickly, replaced once again by a calm smile.
Clearly—
he had let her go.
"Oh my… looks like she gave up." Gin Ichimaru smiled faintly. "A wise decision. Otherwise, the captain would've gotten angry."
Hidden beneath his sleeve—
his hand had already drawn his Zanpakutō.
If Momousagi had hesitated even a second longer—
she might have been cut in half.
"These people… are monsters."
Cold sweat soaked her back.
Just standing before them felt like her life was no longer her own.
That kind of pressure—
was unbearable.
"Death… since you insist on refusing, then it's unfortunate—we cannot cooperate."
Her voice lacked its earlier confidence.
Without another word—
she turned and left.
She didn't want to remain on Systai Island for even a second longer.
"…Wait."
Ren Kuro's voice stopped her.
Her steps froze.
"Vice Admiral Momousagi… take a message back to Sengoku."
He smiled faintly.
"He underestimated my ambition."
Three Days Later — Marine Headquarters
"…He refused?"
Sengoku's expression turned complicated upon hearing Momousagi's report.
The result was both expected—
and unexpected.
The Seven Warlords system was immensely attractive.
Just the officially recognized neutrality alone allowed pirates to act freely.
But—
Ren Kuro's ambitions clearly lay elsewhere.
Not in the first half of the Grand Line.
But in the chaos of the New World.
He didn't want to become a Warlord.
He wanted—
to become an Emperor.
"Want my treasure?"
"Then go find it!"
"Fame, power, wealth…"
"Everything the world has to offer—I left it all there!"
Since Gol D. Roger spoke those words—
the era had changed forever.
Countless dreamers set sail.
It was an age of rising talents—
and endless chaos.
After years of conflict, the New World had descended into disorder.
Even the Marines had lost control over it.
And among the countless pirates—
only one stood at the very top.
The man known as the strongest.
Edward Newgate.
Whitebeard.
Now—
those who could stand alongside him were called Emperors.
Because of that—
the New World had become a battlefield.
Everyone sought to rise.
To claim the throne.
To become one of the Emperors of the sea.
Ren Kuro—
was no different.
His ambition was not to dominate the first half of the Grand Line.
He wanted to rule the New World—
like a king.
Sengoku stood by the window, hands behind his back, staring out at the vast ocean.
As a master strategist—
he had already seen it coming.
"…It seems the New World…"
"…is about to be thrown into chaos."
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