The Best Touchstone

Under the night sky, the lights of Navy Headquarters blazed brightly.

The sounds of bustling activity didn't fade with the arrival of night; as new shift workers took over, the headquarters, as the nerve center of millions of Marines, maintained peak operational efficiency. Under the glow of the lights, the boundary between day and night here wasn't all that clear.

In the meeting room, a cool night breeze drifted in through the window. Vice Admiral Tsuru wore a troubled expression as she let out a deep sigh.

Too direct!

Sakazuki... still the same as ever, with a temper as rigid as steel, completely clueless about how to write the word "tact." He climbed from the lowest-ranking Marine all the way to the position of Admiral purely through undeniable achievements, step by step, steadily rising to higher ranks, making it impossible for anyone to suppress him.

Otherwise, even the self-proclaimed justice of the Marines wouldn't be free from power struggles.

If Sakazuki's history were written down, it would be a truly thrilling story!

"The New World... if possible, I'd naturally want to go back." Sengoku calmly answered Sakazuki's question, lifting his head to look at the massive map hanging on the opposite wall. "The chaos in the New World has been long-standing, Sakazuki. You know about Rocks, don't you?"

Sakazuki maintained his steel-cold expression, saying nothing.

Sengoku didn't mind Sakazuki's lack of respect and continued, "The Navy's control over the New World has never been stable. Rocks, Whitebeard, Golden Lion, Big Mom, Beast, Red-Haired... and even earlier monsters. The New World, that meat grinder, always grinds out troublesome guys.

And whenever a powerful pirate rises, the Navy's influence contracts. But when the pirates' power wanes, the Navy reasserts dominance over the New World..."

"Fleet Admiral, are you saying the pirates' power is about to decline? Sorry, but I don't see that future. Whitebeard, Big Mom, Beast, Red-Haired—these criminals are all still kicking." Sakazuki retorted bluntly, cutting off Sengoku mid-sentence.

"As a Marine, saying that... is an utter disgrace. But anger doesn't change the facts. As long as the balance of the Four Emperors holds for even one more day, the Navy lacks the conditions to return to the New World. Marching into the New World now would only bring pointless casualties."

Sakazuki's personality was rigid, not reckless.

To complete a mission, he wouldn't hesitate to target both comrades and civilians as casualties. But that came with a precondition—

being able to complete the mission.

As long as he was confident in finishing the mission, he'd naturally pay any price, even his own life, because in his view, all that sacrifice was worthwhile. But without that confidence, all the effort would just be a gamble on an uncertain outcome.

Sorry, he wouldn't do that.

Sacrifice was permissible, but worthless sacrifice was intolerable.

His trade-offs were really that simple.

"Sengoku, do you think this kid will shake up the New World's balance of power?"

Tsuru asked.

Under her fingers lay a photo.

In the photo, Aleus spread jet-black wings, soaring through the sky. The perfect angle was clearly the work of a professional—and indeed, it was. Morgans had deliberately leaked this photo, along with the news of Umit's death.

The file handed over earlier had this photo clipped inside.

"He's already shaken up the New World's balance of power." Sengoku said.

"But, Sengoku, you understand. As long as the Four Emperors don't move, there's little room for improvement in the New World's situation."

"That doesn't stop us from preparing in advance." Sengoku said calmly, lowering his head to look at the extra printed photo in his hand. "Tsuru, Sakazuki, this photo... do you see anything unusual about it?"

He held up the photo; Tsuru and Sakazuki both had the same one.

"Hey hey, Sengoku, you bastard, don't act like I'm not here! You're the one who called me to this meeting, and now you're ignoring me... Damn it, I'll just eat all your rice crackers." With that, Garp pulled a pack of rice crackers from under the table, tore it open, and started crunching away.

Vice Admiral Tsuru looked helpless.

Even Sakazuki just furrowed his brow, ignoring the unconventional senior.

Only Sengoku fumed, slapping the table and trading insults with Garp, rehashing the same old lines like "You stole my rice crackers again!" and "Stole? I walked in and took them fair and square!" for the umpteenth time.

"What's so special about it? It just looks like a Zoan ability user to me?"

After staring for a while, Vice Admiral Tsuru, known as the great strategist, furrowed her brow and interrupted the back-and-forth between Sengoku and Garp.

"What what? Tsuru, let me see too!"

Garp craned his neck curiously.

"Hmm, so this kid killed Umit. Looks really young! This... is it a Mythical Zoan ability user? Seems like another troublesome guy!" Garp muttered to himself, completely oblivious to the shocked and puzzled looks from Vice Admiral Tsuru and Sakazuki.

"As expected, you bastard have an annoyingly sharp intuition!"

Sengoku crossed his arms and sat back down in his seat.

"Sengoku, Garp, how... did you figure out from this photo that this kid is a Mythical Zoan ability user?" Tsuru demanded.

"Huh? That's obvious at a glance, isn't it?"

Garp kept munching on his rice crackers.

Vice Admiral Tsuru gave Garp a helpless look and let out a soft sigh. She had to admit that a fool's intuition sometimes seemed sharper than rational thought—a fact that was... rather unpleasant!

She couldn't count on Garp to say anything comprehensible, so she had to pin her hopes on Sengoku.

Sure enough, after a few seconds of deliberation, Sengoku spoke: "I don't have concrete evidence to prove it, but as a fellow Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit user, even from just a photo, I can sense that distinctive quality. Mythical Zoan Devil Fruits... are very special."

"...If it really is a Mythical Zoan, then he's indeed a troublesome one."

Sakazuki scrutinized the photo in his hand a few more times before finally dropping his opposition to Sengoku.

Somewhere along the line, a saying had spread across the seas—that there were no useless Devil Fruits, only useless users. That wasn't quite accurate. It was true that the same Devil Fruit could shine differently in different hands, and a user's quality naturally affected how much power they could draw from it.

But—

Devil Fruits had their own hierarchy.

The most obvious example was the superior and inferior Logia types: the Magma-Magma Fruit and the Mera Mera no Mi, the Ice-Ice Fruit and the Snow-Snow Fruit. It was plain as day that Devil Fruits had clear rankings of strength.

Of the four people present, three were ability users. They knew all too well what kind of magic a top-tier Devil Fruit could wield.

Sakazuki's change in attitude wasn't an overreaction—it was due diligence.

In this world, Devil Fruits themselves were synonymous with power.

Look at the strong figures active in the current era. How many were ability users? How many were non-users? The former numbered like the hairs on a head, while the latter could be counted on one hand. Never underestimate the impact a top-tier Devil Fruit could have on this world.

"Sengoku, what do you plan to do?"

Tsuru asked again.

"Well... to be safe, I think we need to observe this 'Black Prince' up close." Sengoku said, then turned his gaze to the stubborn bastard currently munching on his prized limited-edition crackers. There was no better touchstone than him.

"Beyond that, how we handle the coming turmoil in the New World is also a key issue. Whether or not the Black Prince can shake the four-polar structure of the New World, he's already thrown the lower layers into chaos. If we don't control it properly, that chaos could even spill over into Paradise."

The meeting proceeded methodically.

Meanwhile, the world was slowly changing.

Exhausted today (▼皿▼#). A bit short—will try to make it up tomorrow.