The fog was slowly beginning to dissipate as the first glimmer of dawn tinged the sky with shades of orange and pink. But it didn't bring with it the promise of a new day. Instead, the morning light revealed the remnants of a nightmare that had taken shape across the waters of the Grand Line.
The reinforcement fleet moved forward cautiously, sails flapping in a chilly wind that carried an ominous foreboding. From the deck of the flagship, Vice Admiral Seigen scowled out to sea, his silhouette as rigid as a marble statue. Beside him, several officers exchanged nervous glances, feeling the oppression in the air.
The naval vessel moved forward cautiously, its bow slicing through the waves as they approached the point of the last transmission. They had received the distress signal just hours before, but when they tried to respond, they were met with only silence. A void that, somehow, was more terrifying than any cry of despair.
Despite the rays of light that tinted the sky and warmed the sailors' faces, the scene that began to unfold before the Marine reinforcements was far from beautiful. The rescue fleet was approaching the point of the distress signal, and what they encountered left them in a deathly silence.
The wind carried with it the stench of gunpowder, burning metal, and something else... something that made the marines on board glance at each other uneasily.
"Visual contact with the ship!" a lookout shouted from the observation post.
All eyes turned to the horizon, where the silhouette of the vessel floated on the calm waters. Or at least, what was left of it.
From a distance, Vice Admiral Renard's ship looked like a floating corpse on the sea. The massive vessel, once an imposing bastion of justice, was now a silent ruin. The main mast had been snapped in two, leaving splintered remnants of wood still smoking in the morning breeze. The sail, ripped and charred, hung in tatters, flapping weakly like a flag of defeat.
The ship's hull bore multiple impact marks, punctures unmatched by any conventional weaponry known to the Navy. They weren't sword slashes or cannon shots; they were something more precise, more brutal. Some sections of the deck were completely shattered, as if an invisible force had effortlessly passed through the metal and wood. Along the ship's side, battle scars spread like raw scars, and saltwater rushed in and out of the holes with each surge of the waves.
The waves crashed against the Navy ship's shattered hull, sending saltwater rushing in and out of the holes with each surge of the waves.
The gunners and riflemen aboard the fleet kept their fingers on their triggers, ready to open fire at any sign of threat. The ships lined up in defensive formation.
The vice admiral watched with a frown, his eyes scanning every inch of the wreck as he felt a chill run down his spine. This wasn't the first time he'd seen a ship in ruins, but there was something about this that deeply unsettled him. From the bridge of his ship, he looked up at the towering, ruined vessel. It was a ghost battlefield, a silent testament to an engagement that should never have happened. He took the snailphone in his hand and spoke in a firm voice.
"All units, prepare to board. We don't know what we'll find in there."
The orders were quickly relayed. Sailors skilled in rescue, medics, and soldiers armed with Haki boarded the boats to cross the stretch of water that separated them from the phantom vessel. Silence was the only thing that accompanied them, broken only by the sound of the waves hitting the shattered wood.
The creaking of splintering wood echoed beneath their boots as they advanced across the deck. One of the soldiers advanced onto the main deck and abruptly stopped.
"By the gods..."
The others hurried to catch up with him, and when they saw what he saw, more than one felt their stomachs turn.
Bodies. Not simply corpses, but remnants of what had once been their comrades. Some seemed to have collapsed instantly, with no visible wounds, as if they had died of pure terror. Others, however… their bodies were mutilated in ways that made no sense. As if something had played with the rules of reality.
"There's something here…" said one of the marines, bending over a piece of splintered wood. His hand trembled as he touched it. "It's cold… too cold."
Footsteps echoed on the deck, and as they searched internally, they found the unthinkable.
Marines still alive.
Two men and a woman, covered in blood, staring blankly, their bodies shaking. Their uniforms were torn, their faces pale. One of them still clutched the handle of a broken sword, though he seemed unaware.
A naval doctor rushed to check on them, but even when they tried to calm them down, the survivors didn't respond.
"You're safe. Reinforcements have arrived," the officer said. "We need you to tell us what happened here."
One of the doctors checked the bodies of other senior officers. Gerald, Renard's faithful subordinate, was unrecognizable. His body had been broken in a way that defied all logic. Others, who had fought to their last breath, were irreparably lost.
"Where is the enemy?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice trembling. "Where is... whoever did this?"
No one had an answer.
While medics treated the few survivors, a reconnaissance team descended into the ship. They made their way through destroyed corridors, through doors ripped out of their foundations, and through rooms reduced to rubble. In the cargo hold, they found something disturbing: supplies, ammunition, even some important documents were gone.
"This wasn't just an attack," one of the officers murmured, looking at the empty shelves. "It was a massacre... and looting."
Rear Admiral Seigen listened to the report, his face impassive, though inside he seethed with anger and unease. He crouched down beside the survivors. "Tell me, who did this?" Seigen asked in a controlled voice.
The woman narrowed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her lips trembled before she spoke a few words.
"I don't know... but it's not... human..."
Seigen exchanged glances with his men before turning to the surviving marines.
It was rare for battle-hardened Marines to react this way, especially on the Grand Line, but the terror on their faces was undeniable.
"Secure the ship! Search for any sign of the enemy!" he ordered firmly.
The soldiers fanned out across the vessel, searching every corner. However, they found no trace. As if he had never been there.
"He's gone..." Seigen whispered, feeling a weight in his stomach.
The silence that remained on the deck was almost unbearable. The fog was slowly dissipating, revealing the disaster in its entirety. The battle had been a one-sided massacre, and the worst part was that no one fully understood what they had fought against.
Breaking into his thoughts, he decided that if this was all he was going to get, then he should report to higher-ups. He grabbed his dendenmushi and called the one who had assigned him to this task.
On the other end, Admiral Borsalino's voice sounded calm, almost bored.
"Ohh... so they didn't manage to catch him... how troublesome..." he said in his characteristic drawl.
"Admiral, this isn't just a common threat," Seigen replied, containing his frustration. "We need immediate mobilization. This is bigger than we thought."
"Hmmm... how annoying... but I guess we can't ignore it," Kizaru replied with a sigh. "Very well, I'll send someone else... for now, clean up the mess and bring in the survivors."
Seigen clenched his fists as he looked at the horizon. Despite the light of dawn, the feeling of darkness hadn't entirely dissipated. Something told them that this battle wasn't the end... but only the beginning of something much bigger.
A few weeks later
The Navy's briefing room at Marineford had always been an imposing place, a space where decisions that shaped the fate of the world were made between walls covered in maps and confidential documents. The evening light filtered a golden glow through the high windows, reflecting off the dark wooden table where the admirals and high-ranking officers were gathered. The scent of freshly printed paper and still-fresh ink floated in the air, mingling with the more subtle scent of half-finished coffee some of them were drinking.
Akainu stood with his arms crossed, his jaw tense, his gaze fixed on Sengoku, as if waiting for him to say something that would give him the perfect excuse to express his frustration. Beside him, Kizaru watched the scene with his usual apathy, drumming his fingers on the table in a slow, almost lazy rhythm. Aokiji, leaning back in his chair, had his eyes half-closed, his posture relaxed in contrast to the serious atmosphere. Tsuru, on the other hand, sat with her back straight, her hands clasped on the table, a thick file in front of her, closed but ready to be opened at the precise moment.
Sengoku, frowning, let out a sigh. They had been discussing the recent pirate activities in the New World and the growing threat from the younger generations, but no one had yet mentioned the real reason they were there. They all knew the shadow of the incident on the high seas still loomed over them.
Then, the door burst open without warning. A loud bang echoed through the room as the man who had just entered closed it with a carefree laugh.
"Gahaha! It's always a pain climbing so many stairs to this damn room! Why don't you hold these meetings somewhere more comfortable, huh?" Garp strode forward with his casual gait, nibbling on a cookie as he sat down as if he were at home.
The faces of those present oscillated between resignation and annoyance. Akainu didn't bother to hide his displeasure, while Aokiji barely opened one eye to observe him with mild curiosity. Kizaru, for his part, smirked, saying nothing.
"You're late, Garp," Sengoku said sternly, but his old friend just shrugged and continued eating.
"Bah! Don't tell me you talked about boring things this whole time. Let me guess, pirates? Revolutionaries? That clown Kaidou causing trouble again?" He stretched out in his seat, yawning exaggeratedly.
Tsuru took advantage of the interruption to open the file in front of her, her fingers sliding through the pages with the precision of someone who routinely handled sensitive information.
"Actually, your arrival is opportune, Garp," he said in his calm tone, though his sharp gaze made it clear that what he was about to say was not to be taken lightly. "The Vice Admiral Renard incident," Tsuru said, his voice calm but heavy with weight.
Garp stopped chewing for a moment. Although he maintained his relaxed demeanor, the mention of the subject made him raise an eyebrow.
Aokiji opened one eye in mild curiosity, while Kizaru let out a small, slurred "ohhh."
"It's been a while since this case was filed," the Admiral of Light commented in his usual indolent tone. "Why revisit such a… bothersome incident?"
Tsuru narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on the table. Then, he slid another sheet of paper toward Sengoku, who took it and read it with a frown.
"Because the survivors were finally able to speak," he explained.
The air in the room grew thicker. Aokiji straightened slightly, while Akainu let out a low growl.
"Those three you found hiding in the wreckage?" the magma admiral asked. "Weren't they in a state of shock?"
"They were," Tsuru replied. "But time and the intervention of our doctors managed to stabilize them. Now they're able to talk about what really happened that night."
Sengoku placed the paper on the table and ran a hand through his beard.
"What did they say?"
Tsuru paused briefly, as if considering how best to express what he was about to say.
"It wasn't an ordinary pirate attack."
"Nor did it look like the work of an organized army," Aokiji chimed in, examining the photos. "There's no sign of cannon fire or common maritime tactics."
"Because it wasn't a war," Tsuru said. "It was an attack."
Silence. Kizaru stopped drumming his fingers. Akainu clenched his fists tighter.
"The three survivors described the attacker," Tsuru continued. "A young man with light hair... with Devil Fruit abilities."
Kizaru spoke. "Oh... how troublesome." His tone was still casual, but there was a hint of genuine interest in his voice.
Tsuru nodded, turning a page in the file before continuing.
"I was at their interrogation. It wasn't easy. The three survivors were in a state of deep trauma when they were found. Dehydrated, with minor injuries but obvious signs of having been hidden for days. They didn't speak, didn't react coherently." He paused briefly, letting his words settle in the minds of those present. "But when they finally spoke... what they said was disturbing."
Sengoku leaned forward slightly, his hands flat on the table.
"Just say it, Tsuru."
She nodded and continued.
Some days ago
The interrogation didn't begin immediately.
The three survivors had been in no condition to speak when they were found. The reinforcement fleet had found them hiding in the wreckage of the ship, huddled in a dark corner of the lower storage room, where the stench of gunpowder and dried blood mingled with the salty dampness that permeated the splintered wood. They lay motionless, as if any movement could betray them to an invisible threat. Their eyes, wide open, reflected not hope, but a fear rooted deep within them.
The Navy doctors examined them as soon as they were rescued. Dehydrated, covered in soot and superficial wounds, but mostly unharmed. Physically, at least. Because in their gazes and in the way they trembled at the slightest noise, one could see the mark of what they had witnessed. Neither of them spoke on the return journey. Not a single word. Only the clatter of the ship and the murmur of the sea broke the silence between them.
It took days for them to regain some coherence.
When they were finally taken to the interrogation room at Marineford, they seemed like shadows of their former selves. The difference from their surroundings was grotesque. Seated in polished metal chairs, under the impeccable lighting of an office with perfectly aligned files and a varnished wooden desk, they were the discordant note. Their clothes still smelled of the sea and gunpowder, and their faces were sunken, consumed by exhaustion and despair, as if something had carved its signature into them.
In front of them, Vice Admiral Tsuru maintained a stern but patient expression. Beside him, an officer took notes while a den den mushi recorded the conversation. She watched them silently before asking the first question.
"Tell me what happened."
The woman, the youngest of the group, was the first to try to speak. Her voice broke on the first try, and she had to swallow several times before the words managed to escape.
"W-We were on the deck... after the storm... all was calm... and then..."
One of the men, his skin ashen and his hands trembling, clenched his fists on the table.
"The fog..." he whispered. "It wasn't normal... it was thick, cold... we couldn't see anything."
The third survivor, who until then had kept his head down, let out a broken, desperate laugh.
"He was watching us... from the darkness. He knew where we were... he tasted our fear."
Tsuru exchanged a glance with the officer at his side. He didn't interrupt. He knew that, in their state, the information would come fragmented, timeless, without any structure, chaotic, but in the midst of their despair, they would find the truth.
"Go on," he ordered calmly.
The woman nodded slowly.
"Vice Admiral Gerald... he tried to give us orders, keep us in formation... but then..."
The man with trembling hands banged the table, his eyes wide open.
"His head exploded!" he shouted, then lowered his voice to a shaky whisper.
The three survivors fell silent. Tsuru placed his hands on the table.
—Continue.
Her lower lip trembled before she could form a response. Her voice broke, a whisper in the neat, orderly space.
"Gerald… his head… exploded."
One of the men, his face covered in fresh scars, let out a stifled sob. The other simply clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The officer leaned forward slightly, his expression neutral, but his jaw tightened at those words.
"How? Explain yourself."
The woman swallowed. Her hands rested on the table, but her fingers gripped the surface as if she needed to anchor herself to something solid so she wouldn't get lost again in that cursed night.
"We didn't see him move. He didn't do anything… he just raised his hand and… and…" Her pupils dilated as she recalled the scene. "Gerald was there, right next to me." I was yelling at him to get ready to shoot… and then his head…" her voice trailed off.
The man to her right looked away, unable to hear any more. The image was etched in their minds with brutal clarity. The dull crash, the heat of blood splashing across their faces, the body slumping at an impossible angle.
"What happened next?"
The silence stretched again. Outside, the distant sound
The silence stretched again. Outside, the distant sound of waves crashing against the Marineford docks was the only clue that they were still in the real world, far from that cursed fog.
It was the scarred man who finally answered.
"The fog thickened. We couldn't see more than a couple of meters... and then..." his lips trembled, "then the gunfire started."
Tsuru looked up from his notes.
"Shots?"
The man nodded awkwardly, his eyes fixed on some spot on the floor, as if he were back there on the bloody deck.
"They weren't ours. They weren't theirs. We didn't know where they were coming from. It just... started. A roar, a firestorm. Continuous shots... without pause. Not muskets, not naval rifles. It was... something else."
The woman hugged herself, feeling the echo of those bursts ring in her head.
"We didn't have a chance. Some tried to run, but fell before they took three steps. We didn't know where the bullets were coming from. They just... appeared. All around us. Passing through us."
Tsuru remained silent. Something like a chill ran down her spine, but she suppressed it. She kept her expression firm and her tone neutral. She frowned. She made a mental note of each word. Then she nodded, giving them permission to continue.
"The fog thickened... we couldn't see each other," said the man, still trembling. "Some fired... but it was no use. Then... we heard it."
The woman hugged herself, her eyes fixed on a fixed point on the table.
"That sound... those guns..."
The three survivors exchanged glances. They pressed their lips together, as if afraid to even remember.
"It was like a thousand rifles were firing at once," the third whispered. "But they weren't rifles… they weren't weapons that exist in this world."
Tsuru's frown deepened. She'd heard strange reports about unusual weapons, but what these marines were describing went beyond that.
"We hid… we went into the cargo hold… there were at least fifteen of us who made it there," the woman continued. "But one by one, they began to disappear. We heard their screams, the sound of their bodies falling to the floor… but never any footsteps. We never knew how they got in."
The man who had slammed the table covered his face with his hands.
"In the end… it was just the three of us left. We waited… for hours. Or days… I don't know. And then, you found us."
Silence spread through the room. Tsuru looked at each of them. There was no doubt they were telling the truth. Their eyes reflected pure, unwavering terror.
"And the enemy?"
Three pairs of terrified eyes stared at her, and it was the woman who answered, her voice cracking with pure terror.
"He... he's gone. As if nothing had happened."
"Describe the attacker," Tsuru demanded firmly.
The man who had spoken first shook his head.
"It's not possible... he's not human..."
The woman, her voice barely a whisper, continued.
"Young man... light hair... white clothes, his voice... it was as if he was amused by us. He said he expected more resistance. That we were... disappointing."
Back in the present
The chime of the clock filled the room again as the words settled in each admiral's mind.
"The testimonies agree on several points. They described an unknown enemy with abilities never before seen. They didn't identify him as a user of a known Devil Fruit." "They said they wounded him," Tsuru continued, her voice lowering a little. "That they pierced him with Haki... but his body regenerated instantly..." She paused, her gaze hardening. "The most terrifying thing wasn't the speed or the brutality of the attack. It was the manner in which it was done."
Akainu frowned even more, impatient.
"Be specific, Tsuru."
She looked up from her report and fixed her gaze on those present.
"With a single movement of her hand, the enemy made Gerald's head explode, without even touching him." Her voice remained firm, but the gravity of her words resonated with everyone present. It was so fast that they couldn't even comprehend what had happened until his body fell to the floor.
A thick silence fell over the room. Garp stopped eating, his expression now more serious. Aokiji narrowed his eyes, Kizaru stopped tapping his drum on the table, and Akainu gritted his teeth in suppressed fury.
Aokiji leaned forward, his usual apathy behind him. Kizaru clicked his tongue.
"Ahhh... how troublesome."
"If his body was so weak, yet he could take out an entire crew, then his skill must be terrifying," Sengoku commented, his voice deep.
Akainu slammed his fist on the table. "There is no skill that is invincible. Everything has a limit."
"What else did they say, Tsuru?" Sengoku asked, breaking the silence.
Tsuru flipped through a few pages before answering.
"They said that as soon as the first death occurred, everything changed." The fog thickened, the enemy laughed as if enjoying the soldiers' fear... and then, the worst happened. —Tsuru added, looking at Sengoku—. "They said they heard gunshots in the fog... gunshots that didn't belong to any weapon the Navy or the pirates use. As if they were…" his voice slowed down—"bursts of continuous, endless fire."
Akainu's expression hardened even further.
"Are you saying that man has weapons that surpass our technology?"
Kizaru finally spoke, his tone drawled but with an unusual tinge of interest.
"Hmmm... a hail of gunfire... something like an automatic weapon... how interesting."
Sengoku closed his eyes for a moment, considering. Then, he opened them determinedly.
"This isn't something we can ignore. If there's someone out there with this kind of power, we need answers... and fast."
Garp leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh.
"Tch... I don't like the direction this is going." He crossed his arms and looked at Tsuru. "Did the survivors say anything else about this guy?"
Tsuru closed the file with a small movement.
"Just one more thing. Something they couldn't explain." He leaned forward slightly, as if whispering an uncomfortable secret. "They said that, when it was all over and they hid in the wreckage... they heard his voice.
Talking to someone else."
"Hmmm..." Garp chewed loudly. "Seems like a dangerous enemy."
"More than that," Tsuru said. "It's something we can't ignore."
Sengoku nodded.
"I want all the files related to Devil Fruit users with similar abilities. If this threat is still out there, we need to know what we're dealing with."
Akainu banged the table hard.
"It doesn't matter who it is. We will find him and eradicate him. Justice will not allow a monster like that to run loose."
Garp snorted and tossed the file onto the table.
"Hmph. I don't think it's that simple," he said with a crooked smile. "But well, it will be interesting to see how this plays out."
Sengoku sighed. The meeting was far from over, and the weight of an unknown threat loomed over the Navy like a storm on the horizon.
Kizaru looked at the footage. "Ohhh! And they looted the ship too… They took everything, even some Devil Fruits."
Garp, who had remained silent, raised an eyebrow. "Were they important Fruits?"
Tsuru shook his head. "We don't know for sure. There were three of them. Two Paramecia and a Zoan. But the survivors couldn't say which ones exactly."
Sengoku rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Three Fruits. Two Paramecia and one Zoan. However, we were unable to obtain specific details from the survivors… Why take them without even checking which ones they were?"
Aokiji tilted his head, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharp.
"If he's not a common thief and he's not working alone, he could be forming a group. A new pirate with powerful allies… or worse, a new emperor on the rise."
Akainu slammed his fist on the table.
"A group? Hmph. If he were gathering followers, we would know. But if it's true, we can't allow it to grow any stronger."
Tsuru nodded slowly.
"If his ability is as dangerous as described, he could be seeking companions to reinforce his weaknesses. He may not be physically strong, but with the right Fruits in the hands of the right allies, he could become unstoppable."
Silence fell again. The possibility that his enemy could become stronger with one of those Fruits, or worse, that someone else could use them under his command, made the air in the room feel heavier.
Akainu clenched his fists.
"Whatever his goal, the solution is the same. Find him. And eradicate him."
No one in the room contradicted him. But deep down, everyone knew this was not an enemy to be faced lightly.
Sengoku closed his eyes thoughtfully. "That doesn't make sense. If they weren't Fruits of great power… why take them?"
"Perhaps he was looking for something in particular," Aokiji murmured.
Akainu clicked his tongue. —Or maybe he did know what fruits they were and was interested in them.
The weight of uncertainty hanging over the Navy was as heavy as the approaching storm.
A few days later
The Navy War Council had been urgently convened again. This time, the meeting was held in a larger room within Marineford headquarters, with dim lighting and a serious atmosphere. Unlike the previous meeting, this time there were not only Sengoku, Tsuru, Aokiji, Kizaru, Akainu, and Garp, but also senior officers and intelligence officers awaiting a crucial decision.
At the center of the conference table was the image of the man responsible for the massacre of Vice Admiral Renard and the looting of the ship. There was no name, no confirmed identity. Only a portrait based on survivors' descriptions: a young man with light hair, an impassive expression, and a blank stare. Beside him was a document listing the potential capabilities witnesses had reported.
Sengoku crossed his arms and looked around at everyone present before speaking.
"We've discussed the circumstances of this incident in detail. Now we must decide whether to place a bounty on him and what an appropriate amount would be."
Akainu slammed the table hard, his face marked by tension and determination.
"It's clear we must issue an immediate manhunt. This scum murdered a vice admiral and humiliated the Navy. Not only should he have a bounty, but one of the highest we've ever placed."
Aokiji sighed, resting an arm on the back of his chair.
"Ahhh... before we decide on a number, we must ask ourselves something more important: how much do we really know about him? Issuing a bounty without sufficient information could backfire."
Kizaru smiled in his usual carefree tone.
"Ohhh~ But if we set the price high enough, we'll attract all kinds of hunters and pirates who want to capture him. Maybe someone will manage to get information out of him... before he dies, of course."
Garp, who had remained silent until now, snorted and leaned forward.
"The problem with these kinds of enemies is that we don't know if the reward will be of any use. He doesn't seem like the type to hide or fear being hunted. And if his ability is as strange as they say, he could be using this to lure hunters and eliminate them like broken toys."
Tsuru nodded slowly.
"Considering what we've seen, his physical strength is low, but his skill more than makes up for that weakness. We can't let other pirates try to recruit him, and if he has allies, a reward could reveal his network of connections."
One of the intelligence officers chimed in.
"We've seen cases where criminals of this type have gone undetected for too long due to the Navy's lack of attention. If this man continues to act unnoticed, he could become an out-of-control threat."
Sengoku closed his eyes for a moment, considering each argument.
"If we announce a high bounty right away, we'll attract too much attention. But if we leave it too low, others may underestimate him. We must find a balance."
Akainu grunted in disgust.
"Balance… tch. I'd say at least 500 million. That would make clear the level of threat he poses."
Aokiji raised an eyebrow.
"Hmmm… that would put him at least at the level of a legendary pirate, and we don't even know if he's part of a large crew."
Kizaru raised a hand nonchalantly.
"Ohhh~ then how about 300 million?" Not too exaggerated, but enough to make the world pay attention.
Sengoku looked at Tsuru, waiting for his final opinion.
"If we put in too much, it might give the impression that the Navy fears him. If we put in too little, no one will take him seriously. Ideally, somewhere in between. I propose 400 million to start. Over time, if we see more of his power, we can increase it."
The admirals exchanged glances. Finally, Sengoku nodded.
"Then 400 million. We'll release his image and declare him a high-risk threat. Any information we obtain about his movements must be prioritized. We can't afford another incident like this."
The decision was made. Despite the tension that still hung in the room, no one could ignore the feeling of unease. This enemy wasn't like the others. And worst of all, they didn't even know his real name.
The hunt was on.
"If he's so powerful, why did he show himself now?" one of the officers asked. "Someone with such terrifying abilities should have left traces before. How is it possible the Navy has never heard of him until now?"
Tsuru narrowed her eyes, pondering the question.
"There are several possibilities. He may have deliberately remained hidden, waiting for the right moment. Or someone else may have released him... perhaps someone who knew what he could do."
Akainu snorted.
"Or maybe he's just looking for attention. Let's create the illusion that we're looking for him and force him to make mistakes."
Tsuru narrowed his eyes and sat down.
"He's more than just a new pirate. This is a symptom of something bigger. The pirate age is at its boiling point. More captains with impossible dreams are emerging every day. If this is the work of a pirate with a little-known Devil Fruit, it could be a Yonko-caliber threat."
Sengoku nodded, frowning.
"Gol D. Roger opened the floodgates to a chaotic age. Now any madman with a ship thinks he can challenge the Navy. But this... this is different." Renard was not an easy man to break.
Kizaru clicked his tongue.
"If this is a new monster, how much energy will it take to control it!"
Akainu stood up, his expression sterner than ever.
"It doesn't matter who he is. If this individual believes he can defy justice, we will annihilate him. The pirate era will end with our own hands."
Tsuru looked at everyone in the room before murmuring, "We are not prepared for what is coming."
No one responded. But deep down, everyone knew the shadows on the horizon were only just beginning to extend.
Garp remained silent, staring at the image of the young man with a frown. Thinking of a boy in a straw hat who talked about being the king of the pirates, seeing this individual who had killed so many, he felt nauseous at the thought of his grandson becoming the king of these people, but deep down, he knew it was for something else. He was afraid. He knew his grandson was strong, but against someone like that? How could he deal with it? He sighed, looking out a window as if he could see that boy on an island in the distance, excited that in less than a year he would be setting sail.
-Good luck, Luffy