For a long while.
The light gradually faded.
Shirahoshi was still standing.
But her body was already covered in wounds, blood dripping continuously down her body.
Her breathing was extremely ragged, and her face was pale as paper.
Across from her.
Kuzan slowly fell.
A massive wound pierced through his chest, and blood had already dyed the entire sea red.
"Kuzan!!!"
Garp let out a grief-stricken cry.
He rushed to Kuzan's side, wanting to help him up.
But Kuzan merely stared at the sky, a trace of confusion in his eyes.
"Mr. Garp... it seems our justice... still wasn't carried through..."
His voice grew weaker and weaker.
In truth, Kuzan himself did not know what kind of justice he wanted.
From a broader perspective, the World Government and the current Marines had already achieved the justice he once spoke of.
But the way it had been achieved was completely different from what he had imagined.
The World Government showed no mercy. It had relied entirely on Ross's personal strength to carry out his own will.
Everyone who stood in the way had been purged by Ross and the World Government.
That kind of justice, those kinds of rules, left Kuzan confused. That was also why he had left with Sengoku and the others back then.
Ross was not a merciful man at all.
Yet a man who did not even treat everyone as people had become a Saint in the eyes of most, a god in the eyes of most. Kuzan found it almost absurdly ironic.
This world truly was far too absurd.
Did the result really outweigh the process?
If the right result was paired with the wrong process, could that right result still be the final result?
Kuzan did not know. He did not know the answer either.