The white Coats of Justice merged into a sea of rolling clouds.
Every officer present radiated a formidable aura that made ordinary people's hearts tremble, even leaving them breathless with fear.
They possessed Haki forged through countless brushes with life and death.
Bodies strong enough to tear steel apart barehanded.
And all manner of miraculous, bizarre supernatural abilities.
Even the weakest Major among them
would be considered a top-tier powerhouse in most worlds.
They were no ordinary Majors.
They were elites who had stood out from fierce competition,
qualified to join the World Government's first space fleet
and follow Borsalino on an expedition.
Yamakaji looked around, feeling the battle intent in the air nearly solidify, and the smile on his face grew brighter.
"Though I don't know exactly what Admiral Kizaru plans to do,"
"those Galactic Empire bastards are in for serious trouble."
Just as the Navy's elites mobilized in full force,
at the other end of the Gintama Star system, billions of kilometers away,
inside the Galactic Empire Seventh Fleet's flagship, a Bismarck-class Dreadnought an astonishing ten kilometers long
and resembling an island in space,
the atmosphere was completely different.
Unlike the Navy's blend of fiery passion and battle intent,
this place was filled with absolute order, coldness, and arrogance.
The enormous bridge command center could accommodate over a thousand people working at once.
Panoramic projections of the starry sky covered all four sides,
making those inside feel as though they were floating through space.
Before row after row of control consoles,
officers in silver-gray uniforms processed the massive amounts of data on their screens with mechanical precision.
Many members of the Nim race could be seen among them.
The commander of the Seventh Fleet, Admiral Frederick Morrison,
was a refined man with fair skin, sharply defined features, a