"Patrick Redfield, Red Count, The Lone Red. Do I need to describe him any more clearly?"
Sengoku's surprise was within Oran's expectations. Putting himself in Sengoku's shoes, if he were in the Marines and heard that Redfield had been recruited, he would have reacted the same way.
The monsters of Redfield's generation were gradually withering away. Fewer and fewer ships in the New World could carry them, and now only Whitebeard remained on equal footing with him.
Sengoku would have found it unbelievable enough for someone like that to accept a position among the Shichibukai, let alone be taken in by another Shichibukai.
Both the name and epithet matched. At that moment, Sengoku thought—
"Doctor, did some pirate trick you?"
Impersonating others might sometimes be considered the behavior of lowly pirates, but the pirate world was already filled with countless scum. Pirates who wanted to compete for dominance in the New World might disdain such things, but vile pirates from backwater places would not care.
Impersonating someone else to achieve one's own ends was hardly uncommon. Compared to Redfield being recruited, Sengoku would rather believe Oran had been scammed. The whole thing was a little surreal.
After all, the image Redfield had left in the outside world was that of a loner.
No one else knew what Redfield was truly thinking. They only saw him as unsociable. For a pirate without subordinates or followers to join someone else's ranks was bizarre no matter how Sengoku looked at it.
"Lord Oran, let me explain. It seems this matter truly is difficult to believe."
As a different voice came through, the Den Den Mushi in Sengoku's hand began to change expressions, eventually becoming seventy or eighty percent similar to Redfield.
"Sengoku, you still remember my voice, don't you? You believe it now,