Cannot Bear to See a Pearl Tarnished

Sengoku stared wide-eyed at the golden palm descending upon his head.

His eyes seemed ready to pop from their sockets and shatter his glasses; if not for the fact that no two identical Devil Fruits could exist in the world at the same time, he would have suspected the boy had also eaten the Human-Human Fruit, Model: Buddha.

The Haki and power were so minuscule, yet the Buddhist aura was so pure!

Snap!

Sengoku's Marine cap was shattered into pieces, his afro hairstyle sprang outward, and he froze in a daze.

Conrad held his palm in mid-air, radiating great mercy and compassion.

Time seemed to stop at this moment, the old man and the youth locking eyes.

Sengoku's gaze flickered; he slumped down onto the lower bunk of the dormitory, hunched over with his head hanging, his elbows resting on his knees.

As if struck by a great catastrophe, he remained silent for a long time.

Conrad also remained mute, turning his hand to press his palms together before his chest, lowering his brows and eyes, not saying a word.

He waited with a calm spirit, letting the Zen intent flow with his breath.

After all, not everyone was like him, possessing an extraordinary comprehension that allowed him to master things at a glance without being constrained by rigid patterns.

He had even managed to deduce the Buddha's Palm from the Legend of the Emperor by drawing parallels from Oga's Infinite Vibration Zen.

Sengoku finally raised his head, suppressing his surging emotions as he questioned, "Have you eaten a Buddha-type Devil Fruit?"

"I have not." Conrad shook his head. "This is a palm technique—the Buddha's Palm!"

Sengoku was known as Sengoku the Buddha, primarily because he had eaten the Human-Human Fruit, Mythical Zoan, Model: Buddha, and secondarily because of his Buddha-like temperament.

Yet, the aura displayed by this youth at this moment, and that very palm strike, made him feel as if he were staring directly at a true Buddha, bathed in the light of the divine.

It actually made him feel that there was a gap between his understanding of the Buddha and Conrad's.

This was unbelievable to him; he was the one who had eaten the fruit and lived for sixty-six years!

"This... palm technique of yours? Where did you obtain it?"

"From a past life." Conrad looked out at the blue sky beyond the window, his eyes shifting with a brilliance that seemed to contain the entire world.

"Absurd! Am I hearing things, or have you gone mad!" As a dignified Admiral, how could Sengoku be toyed with by a child? Yet, he stared intently, finding no trace of pretense or falsehood in the boy's expression.

"Take me as your master." Conrad lowered his hands, his eyes returning to clarity. "I truly cannot bear to see such a bright pearl covered in dust."

"No!" Sengoku suddenly broke through his restraint, shaking his head with a low roar.

He found it hard to accept reality. Since ancient times, there had been rumors of those born with innate knowledge—could this youth before him be one? A natural-born Buddhist child?

"Sengoku! How can you be so... sigh!" Conrad looked heartbroken, stepping forward to press both hands onto Sengoku's shoulders. "I am doing this for your own good! Do you realize you are wasting a heavenly treasure?"

Facing Conrad's sincere gaze, Sengoku averted his eyes.

Conrad was about to speak again when a force surged from beneath his hands on Sengoku's shoulders, knocking him back two steps.

Sengoku had already shifted his body, standing sturdily before the dormitory door. With his back to Conrad, he reached for the handle to leave.

The situation had happened too suddenly. Even with his reputation as a brilliant strategist, he couldn't process it in such a short time, and given his advanced age and high position, he couldn't bring himself to lower his pride.

"Stop!" Conrad's finger trembled, his disappointment etched into every muscle of his face.

"Sengoku! How can you be so stubborn! Have worldly prejudices bound you so easily? Are you just another mediocre person unable to see past the surface?"

Sengoku's footsteps faltered, and he turned back half of his conflicted face.

He saw Conrad beating his chest vigorously, crying out in agony, "The path to enlightenment knows no hierarchy! Though I, Conrad, am young, I am absolutely qualified to impart the Way to you! Take me as your master! Kneel down and take me as your master right now!"

Sengoku gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. After hearing this, he found himself at a loss for how to retort. "I will handle your enlistment into the Marines."

With that, he slammed the door and rushed out.

Conrad was deeply disappointed, chasing him to the door to scold, "You'd be better off dead than living like this! Return the fruit to the world! Let someone who knows the weight of things and can distinguish right from wrong take me as their master!"

Sengoku sprang into action, leaping dozens of meters into the air. He stepped on the air using Geppo, creating several ripples of shockwaves before vanishing without a trace.

Baby-5 walked over carrying the washed clothes and asked, "Why was the old man in such a hurry?"

Conrad sighed. "When people get old, they get like that—easily flustered."

The old man's thinking was too rigid and closed off; he would give him more time to think. Perhaps he had been a bit too impatient.

Baby-5 looked at the unfinished roasted chicken and rice on the table. "I'll go heat it up for you."

"No need, don't trouble yourself, it's fine to eat like this." Conrad sat back down at the table and picked up his chopsticks. "You take a rest."

Baby-5 murmured an acknowledgment and sat opposite Conrad, watching him eat.

Once he finished, she immediately moved to clear the bowls and chopsticks to wash them.

But Conrad blocked her, grinning as he started cleaning up. "You can't do all the work. You cooked, so I'll wash the dishes."

"You don't have to do it!" Baby-5 suddenly became anxious, even reaching out to grab the plate. "As long as I can be useful to someone, I'm happier than anything."

Conrad firmly grasped her hand, using his other hand to tidy up. "Change 'someone' to 'me', and change 'useful' to 'yourself'."

"As long as I can be... useful to you." After saying this, Baby-5's face turned from pale to a burning red, like a delicately carved pink apple.

Snap!

Kujaku felt a bittersweet, swelling ache in her heart, yet she found herself somewhat enjoying the sensation as she flicked her whip against the washbasin.

"Dance, you cute little thing!"

The basin leaped in place, bobbing up and down.

Marine Headquarters main city.

Sengoku pushed open the door and returned to the Admiral's office.

There were only three things in the center of the room: a potted areca palm in a porcelain vase and a square mahogany desk.

And hanging horizontally on the wall was a large plaque inscribed with the words: "Justice That Rules the World."

Sengoku pulled the curtains shut. The blackout effect was excellent; as soon as they closed, the entire room plunged into dimness.

He sat back behind his desk, switched on the desk lamp, and rested his chin on his crossed hands. His glasses reflected the light, obscuring his eyes.

Before long, a knock sounded at the office door.

"Come in."

An officer with a handlebar mustache pushed the door open and saluted, "Reporting, Admiral Sengoku! The prisoner has been brought in!"

Behind him were two prison guards in beige uniforms, escorting Rosinante, who was shackled in Seastone handcuffs.

"Remove the cuffs and wait outside."

"Yes!" The officer ordered the guards, "Unlock him."

The guards immediately took out the keys to unlock the cuffs. Under normal circumstances, a prisoner's shackles would never be removed before release, but the man before them was Admiral Sengoku, who had the authority to break the rules.

Once the locks were undone, the officer and the guards saluted and exited the office.

"Set up a Soundproof Wall," Sengoku said.

Rosinante flexed his wrists as a semi-circular barrier enveloped the two of them. Looking at his foster father, to whom he owed a great debt of gratitude, he lowered his head.

"I don't blame you," Sengoku sighed, "but you were wrong. That is something the Celestial Dragons demand, and you should understand the status of the Celestial Dragons."

Rosinante had once been a Celestial Dragon himself, enjoying supreme status where everyone kowtowed at the sight of him.

It was only because his father was kind-hearted by nature that he voluntarily renounced his status, taking his family of four to the North Blue to experience the life of commoners, which ultimately led to the tragedy of Doflamingo murdering their father.

And the Op-Op Fruit was a treasure that even ordinary Celestial Dragons were not qualified to enjoy.

Yet, he had fed it to Law.

The fury of the high-ranking Celestial Dragons could well be imagined.

"I'm sorry." Rosinante had no regrets.