The Kingdom.
Inside the vast main hall, a deathly silence reigned.
Chiba's voice was not loud, yet it struck the hearts of every former Marine High Command member like a heavy hammer.
Garp lowered his head.
His callused fists were clenched so tightly that his fingernails nearly dug into his flesh.
Ten days.
For ten whole days, they had measured the West Blue, now under the Empire's control, with their own feet.
There were no pirate ships flying skull flags, pillaging everywhere.
There was no Heavenly Tribute squeezing the blood and sweat from civilians.
Nor were there Celestial Dragons wearing bubble helmets and treating living people as slaves and mounts.
The towns once destroyed by war had risen from the ground overnight under the Empire's ninjas' miraculous Wood Style.
Numbness and despair had vanished from the civilians' faces.
In their place was hope for tomorrow.
"I... see it clearly now."
Garp spoke in a hoarse voice.
This legendary Vice Admiral, who had spent his entire life roaming the seas, seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.
Yet his ramrod-straight back finally relaxed at that moment.
"So-called justice, if it cannot feed and clothe the innocent, is nothing more than a fig leaf for the privileged class to deceive themselves and others."
"If so-called justice cannot ensure that the innocent have enough to eat and clothes to keep them warm, then it is nothing more than a fig leaf used by the privileged class to deceive itself."
"The World Government is a rotten, malignant tumor."
"And the Marines are merely bloodsucking parasites feeding on that tumor."
Garp dropped heavily to one knee.
His knee struck the marble floor with a dull thud.
"Monkey D. Garp pledges himself to serve the Empire with all his might!"
As Garp moved,
the