After a brief silence, Shanks suddenly looked up at Beckman, an absurd yet perfectly apt thought surfacing in his mind, and he blurted out instinctively, " Beckman, are we all wrong? The true Sun God isn't Nika, but—"
He abruptly stopped speaking, swallowing back the name that was about to be uttered.
Undeniably, since becoming Navy Marshal, Akira has demonstrated advanced thinking that transcends his time, both in military and national governance. However, he is certain that Akira is not Sun God.
Beckman seemed to read his mind, his expression equally serious. "Do you think it's possible that the so-called Sun God doesn't refer to a specific person, but rather to a spirit, or rather, a legacy of will?"
Shanks was silent for a moment, then finally shook his head. "It's too early to draw conclusions. Akira's actions are indeed changing this era, but I still worry that it will ultimately benefit someone else."
"As long as that person from the Flower Chamber is still alive, everything we see now could change. Let's wait and see. I want to see whether Akira, after completing the restoration of order on the Grand Line, will maintain the status quo with those old fogies in the Holy Land, or... draw a clear line and establish a completely new World Government."
Shanks paused slightly, then a smile returned to his lips.
"From now on, we no longer need to constantly monitor Akira's every move. We only need to observe the Revolutionary Army's final decision."
" The Revolutionary Army's existence will play a crucial role in determining who will ultimately gain the upper hand between the Holy Land and Akira. Any unusual activity from them indicates that Akira is taking action. If the Revolutionary Army disbands on the spot, it means... Akira has gained the final say."
Beckman frowned slightly. "If Akira gains ultimate control, where do you think the World Government will go?"
"Hasn't he already given us the answer?" Shanks smiled. "The future World Government will no longer be Chamber of Power by the Five Elders; it will most likely rotate every two or four years."
Beckman didn't smile; his expression was serious as he asked the most crucial question, "Regardless of the ultimate outcome between the Holy Land and Akira, what... should we do?"
Shanks shrugged slightly, regaining his nonchalant air. "We'll meet force with force, and water with earth. If it truly comes to our time to retire, even Whitebeard chose to return to his homeland, so naturally we can too."
at the same time.
The Sphinx, the homeland of Whitebeard.
In the cherry blossom grove on the eastern outskirts of the city, pink petals fell like snow, covering the entire ground.
With an IV drip attached to his body, the tall Whitebeard sat leaning against a thick cherry blossom tree. He hadn't been drinking today, and his sharp eyes gazed curiously at the bustling land beyond the cherry blossom grove.
On the once barren and desolate land, figures now move about.
The naval soldiers took off their uniforms, symbols of their status, and, like the civilians of the Sphinx, rolled up their trousers and brandished hoes and shovels.
The sun was shining brightly, and a gentle breeze was blowing.
Sweat soaked their backs, and dirt covered their faces, but each of them wore a genuine smile.
The air is filled with the fragrance of earth and the salty dampness of the sea breeze, mixed with the shouts and laughter of people working, composing a simple yet moving pastoral idyll.
"Dad!"
Marco strode out of the forest, the blue flames of the Phoenix flickering on his shoulders, but his expression was unusually solemn.
"We just received news that Navy Marshal Akira led his training ships to Hachinosu Island and swiftly wiped out nearly 200,000 pirates on the Hachinosu Island. Not only that, Akira personally took action and completely destroyed Hachinosu Island. Now... only Rocky Port remains of Hachinosu Island; the rest has sunk to the bottom of the sea."
Whitebeard seemed not to hear him. He raised his thick finger, pointed to the bustling scene opposite, and asked curiously, " Marco, what are they doing?"
"Father!" Marco turned around, looking anxious. "This isn't the time to worry about these things! The Hive is gone! Ochoku is dead!"
" Ochoku should have died long ago!" The Whitebeard's gaze remained fixed on that land. "From now on, you don't need to report these matters to me anymore."
After a slight pause, Whitebeard turned to Marco and said, "What you need to tell me now is what those marines and the people of Sphinx are doing?"
Upon hearing this, Marco let out a sigh of resignation.
Clearly, his father's heart had completely returned from the turbulent sea to the land where he was born.
Having come to terms with it, Marco no longer cared about Ochoku Ochoku.
"The Navy established a construction corps in Sphinx to help the local people reclaim land and cultivate crops," Marco explained. "It is said that a scientist from Marine Headquarters came to investigate and discovered that Sphinx could not only be developed into a tourist destination centered around cherry blossoms, but also that the soil here is very special and very suitable for growing red mustard greens, white radishes, tomatoes, and small watermelons."
Whitebeard paused, then said, "If I remember correctly, a large part of the reason Sphinx became a lawless place was because the land was barren. Many people couldn't make a living by farming and had to go out to sea to fish. Later, pirates ran rampant, and even fishing became a luxury, so many people ended up as thugs in the city."
"That was in the past." Marco smiled slightly. "Ever since that scientist came to investigate, the Navy immediately established a construction corps, leading the people to carry out large-scale land reclamation according to the scientist's advice. Not only that, after the pirates around Sphinx were wiped out, Sphinx has now become an important seafood export destination."
"Gulalalalalala!"
Whitebeard burst into hearty laughter after hearing this.
Immediately afterwards, he stood up abruptly and ripped off his cloak, along with the IV tube that was sustaining his vital signs, which he then casually tossed under the cherry blossom tree.
"Reclaiming wasteland?"
The Whitebeard man stretched his limbs, making crackling sounds, his eyes gleaming with unprecedented excitement and exhilaration. "No one is more suitable than me!"
Before he finished speaking, he had already strode out of the cherry blossom grove.
The sunlight, like scattered gold, gently fell upon the earth; a breeze, like a light veil, swept through the cherry blossom grove; and in the distance, on the wasteland, children, like a flock of joyful birds, frolicked on the grass, their laughter mingling and rising and falling, as clear and melodious as silver bells.
As the Whitebeard walked out of the cherry blossom grove into the sunlight, his eyes slightly narrowed. Feeling the gentle breeze on his face, he revealed a long-lost, contented smile.
This is what is meant by a peaceful and tranquil life.
--