Sun Pirates, Goodbye Sengoku

As the year drew to a close, the atmosphere in Marineford gradually grew relaxed and lively. Seasonal decorations appeared along the solemn streets, and Marine officers stationed at various bases returned in batches to the military residential district to visit their wives, daughters, and elders.

Conrad could not sit still; he had to do something big.

For the past half-month, his days had been monotonous, consisting of nothing but training and more training.

Kujaku, perhaps hitting a rebellious phase, had stopped seeking him out and even started avoiding him, and he hadn't seen Baby-5 for several days either.

Conrad bought a newspaper as usual and headed to the bulletin board to check the recently posted bounty posters.

Although he had gained a bit of fame within the Navy for his recent report, it was primarily because a king had died.

The truly powerful monsters were all in the Grand Line; the first half of the route was known as "Paradise," while the Four Blues were merely the "cradle" of that paradise.

The bounty bulletin board was a special area located on the main road below the city, with two rows standing on either side for easy viewing, updated daily.

However, there were also many old papers, such as the aged bounty posters of the Three Emperors, which had remained untouched for over a decade.

It was easy for pirates to become famous and get a bounty; they just had to sail around causing destruction and fighting each other.

For a Marine to rise in rank and make a name for themselves, they had to perform meritorious deeds and take down famous, high-profile pirates.

In this Great Pirate Era created by the Pirate King Roger and his ONE PIECE, freedom was a slogan for indulgence and an excuse for chaos.

Conrad walked past the rows of posters and stopped in front of the latest bounties just put up by the clerks.

There were two fish-men, one red and one blue, with prominent sun tattoos on their chests that revealed their identity—the Sun Pirates.

The red one was the captain, a sea bream fish-man named Fisher Tiger, the sinner who had climbed the Red Line two and a half years ago to single-handedly break into Mary Geoise and liberate the slaves.

His bounty was 230 million Beli.

The blue one was the first mate, a whale shark fish-man named Jinbe, whose file lacked details, noting only that he was extremely powerful and extremely violent.

His bounty was 76 million Beli.

Conrad asked the clerk, "Friend, sorry to bother you, but did their bounties go up? Did they commit some crime recently?"

The clerk pulled out a notebook, flipped through it, and said, "Rear Admiral Kadal of the G-2 base failed to capture them again. He lost three warships, but just like in the past, there were no casualties; they were let go."

"In other words, the Sun Pirates don't kill, so their bounties only rise based on the ships they dismantle. If they actually started killing, they'd probably be at least 500 million by now."

Conrad roughly calculated the time; it wouldn't be long before the Sun Pirates disbanded, and Arlong, who would eventually devastate Nami's hometown, was currently on that very ship.

He had a good impression of both Tiger and Jinbe; they were top-tier fish-men with strong moral fiber, and they would definitely make excellent subordinates for an underwater combat unit.

Conrad reached into his pocket, pulled out two 10,000 Beli notes, and held them out. "I want to..."

"Hey! What are you doing!" The clerk snatched the money, naturally tucked it into his pocket, adjusted his sunglasses, and chided, "Just ask if you have something to say. We're all brothers in the Headquarters; my name is Brannew."

Conrad looked at the man's green afro. "Brother, do you know which direction the Sun Pirates are heading now?"

"No idea." Brannew gave a cold smile. He was a middle-aged man, forty-three years old this year.

He lacked talent for combat and had spent over twenty years in the Headquarters' clerical department, only reaching the rank of Chief Petty Officer. He envied his superiors, who rose in rank just by attending meetings and writing a few reports every year.

His dream was to attend meetings and one day stand on the podium himself.

"But Rear Admiral Kadal of the G-2 base returned to Headquarters today to see his kids. If you want to know, you can go ask him. His address is..."

Brannew pulled another notebook from his waistband, searched the index by name, flipped through the pages, and pointed to a line. "Building 13, Second District, Old Street."

Conrad knew he had asked the right person. He took a quick look and saw that Brannew's coat pockets and cargo pants were stuffed with notebooks.

It was clear he was always striving to collect information; as long as he had the chance to take the stage, he would surely become someone of great importance in the future.

Conrad reached out his hand. "Thanks. Let's stay in touch. I'm Conrad."

Brannew pushed his sunglasses down, stared at Conrad's blood-red hair, and his squinting eyes lit up. He shook Conrad's hand enthusiastically.

"Look at my eyes! So you're our new Marine hero! You look ten times more handsome than in the newspaper; I didn't even recognize you! Tsk tsk... what a young genius. With looks this dashing, you'll surely be a pillar of our Navy in the future!"

Conrad hated sycophants, but Brannew's words sounded sincere, and he assumed the man was speaking his mind, so he couldn't bring himself to rebuke him. He suppressed the corners of his mouth from curling upward and said, "You flatter me. It's just an empty name."

"Wait a moment!" Brannew let go, finished posting the remaining bounties in his bucket on the spot, and said, "I'm just finishing up, so I have time to give our little hero a lift."

Conrad couldn't refuse the warm gesture, so under Brannew's guidance, he headed toward Rear Admiral Kadal's home.

Along the way, Brannew talked incessantly, knowing every household like the back of his hand. Whenever Conrad asked a question about a name, he could answer immediately or find the answer in his notebooks.

Just as they reached the Old Street and Brannew was reluctantly preparing to say goodbye, a majestic figure suddenly emerged from the alleyway behind Conrad.

Brannew immediately stood at attention and saluted, shouting respectfully, "Admiral Sengoku!"

He was so excited his afro seemed to stand on end. This was his first time facing Sengoku directly—the pinnacle of the Navy, whom he had only ever seen from afar standing on the top floor of the main citadel.

"Conrad." Sengoku had changed into a new hat with a seagull perched on top. His glasses glinted, and he frowned.

"Sengoku." Conrad sighed. "Is there something you need?"

Brannew was shocked; he hadn't expected Conrad to address the Admiral by his name without any honorifics.

Sengoku's expression was somber; he gave a stiff nod. "Yes."

By now, the flow of people on the street had stopped, and everyone was pausing to salute as they saw Sengoku.

Even here in Marineford, the Marine Headquarters, there was an insurmountable distance between those living in the residential district at the base of the city and the heights of the towering citadel above.

Conrad sighed, clasped his hands behind his back, and used Geppo to leap across the street, heading toward the outer coast of the island.

Sengoku followed using Geppo.

It was only after Sengoku vanished from sight that Brannew and the other residents could finally catch their breath.

Conrad had led the way, but Sengoku took over as the guide, leading them all the way to the Southwest Lookout Pavilion, one of the four mountain pillars of Marineford.

"What business do you have with me?" Conrad asked, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the endless, swirling vortex behind the Gate of Justice.

Sengoku's expression was one of struggle, his beard trembling along with his chin, but he eventually spoke: "What is meant by... Buddha's Light Emerges?"

Conrad remained silent for a long time, as if steadying his emotions, before saying in a suppressed voice: "Sengoku, have you still not let go?"

Ever since the day he sent Rosinante away, Sengoku had spent every day recalling the first form of the Buddha's Palm that Conrad had unleashed, studying it intently.

Yet, even with his Human-Human Fruit, Model: Buddha and top-tier Observation Haki, he always felt that the palm technique he performed, compared to Conrad's, was lacking.

It wasn't authentic enough...