The high-level meeting at Marine Headquarters had ended, but Sengoku, returning to his daily duties, did not think the matter was over just like that.
He was waiting for a response from the Gorosei.
Although it had been a confidential meeting of Marine officers, the Gorosei's informants had long since infiltrated every level of the Marines.
He had taken a laissez-faire attitude toward Tsugikuni Yoriichi's New Marines. The World Government would never allow Marine Headquarters to do the same.
At the very least, putting himself in their shoes, if Sengoku believed there was a force in this world capable of threatening the Marines, then no matter what, he would never give them time to survive and grow!
In the quiet office, a fountain pen brushed against paper with a soft scratching sound. A gentle warm breeze drifted in through the window, bringing fresh air with it.
After sitting at his desk for so long, Sengoku straightened his back, set down his pen, and took a deep breath before looking out the window.
Outside, the warm sun hung high in the sky, and the sea breeze was mild.
Slowly rising to his feet and walking over to the window, Sengoku rested his hands lightly on the sill. As he gazed at the peaceful and tranquil Marineford, his thoughts gradually drifted away.
Fleet Admiral of the Marines.
Seated in such a lofty position, he no longer knew how long it had been since he had calmed down and properly enjoyed this thing called "life." Ever since becoming a Marine officer, his life had seemed to enter the fast lane. Day after day, he did much the same work.
Before he knew it, he had grown this old.
"New Marines."
"Could these new Marines accomplish things that old men like us never could?"