The scent of blood was a little pungent.
But there was a hint of sweetness to it, too.
It was her own blood, after all.
Gion closed her eyes and carefully felt the tearing pain in her shoulder.
Strangely, that pain made her feel relieved.
By admitting that her sense of justice was hypocritical, she had found genuine release.
If the Marines truly had no sense of justice at all, how could they keep fighting the pirates, one after another?
But it was precisely because they had some sense of justice—and because they were always going around talking about things like Lazy Justice, Absolute Justice, and Justice from Above—that hearing the Celestial Dragons tell the truth had twisted her insides into knots.
Justice was not a word that described something found in nature. It was a definition made by people.
It had grown out of the simplest values.
Even after all sorts of extra explanations and definitions had been added, its foundation remained people's yearning for fairness.
That was why Gion felt even worse.
When the Celestial Dragons made their broadcast, she had instinctively urged her subordinates not to believe them. She had been trying to persuade herself, too.
Because she knew the other side was telling the truth.
But would things be better after the order built by the World Government was torn apart?
She couldn't imagine it, and she didn't dare bear the consequences.
But Buggy had shown her what it might look like.
He had given her a demonstration with a dazzling fireworks display.
And the result was—
Who cared about the consequences?!
It couldn't get much worse anyway!
Without realizing it, she began to imitate Buggy's exaggerated, unrestrained grin—and his attitude of casting everything aside to build it all anew.
Six terrifying legs, each two or