Sengoku's Headache

More than half of the Marine Headquarters' mid- and high-ranking combat forces were Devil Fruit users.

Aside from Admirals at the pinnacle like Aokiji and Kizaru, who could rely on top-tier Logia abilities to ignore seawater's restraint, the vast majority of other users—even Marine Headquarters rear admirals and Vice Admiral Level powerhouses—would completely lose their combat ability once they fell into the sea, left at the mercy of others.

A force capable of freely controlling seawater and walking across the ocean's surface as though on solid ground was practically the natural nemesis of Devil Fruit users.

If they ever went to war with the Marines head-on, the Devil Fruit user forces the Marines took such pride in would be completely suppressed. They might not even be able to wield half their strength.

The most critical issue was that, even now, the Marines knew absolutely nothing about this force.

Their origins, ultimate goal, scale of their bases, upper limit of total strength, and the minimum strength of their supreme leader were all complete blanks.

They were like a pack of monsters that had sprung from the stones out of nowhere, silently hiding in the West Blue for an entire year. They had erased nearly a hundred ships, even daring to strike standard Marine patrol vessels, yet Marine Headquarters' intelligence network spanning the Four Blues had not caught even the slightest hint beforehand.

That was what made him most wary.

A controllable threat, no matter how powerful, could still be dealt with.

But with an unknown threat, you never knew when the fangs it hid in the shadows would viciously tear through your throat.

Sengoku took a deep breath, suppressing the raging turmoil in his heart. He picked up the dedicated Den Den Mushi on his desk and connected to the Intelligence Department's emergency line.

The moment the Den Den Mushi connected, he spoke in a low voice, his tone carrying an unquestionable command. "This is Sengoku. Immediately mobilize all intelligence resources at Headquarters and thoroughly investigate every hidden force in the West Blue. Prioritize all clues related to the Red-and-White Fan Emblem, scarlet eyes with magatama patterns, and any ability system capable of controlling seawater barehanded. Even archives from a century ago must be turned inside out! I want the preliminary screening results within an hour!"

After hanging up, the office fell into dead silence once more.

Sengoku walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the brightly lit Marine fortress, then at the pitch-black entrance to the Grand Line in the distance. His eyes were filled with an inextricable heaviness.

The tides of the Great Pirate Era had grown ever more turbulent. The movements of the Whitebeard Pirates, Blackbeard's defection, and the Revolutionary Army's continued expansion through the Four Blues had already left the Marines overwhelmed.

And now, such a completely unknown and immensely powerful mysterious force had suddenly emerged in the West Blue.

He had a faint premonition that this seemingly peaceful West Blue would become the fuse that ignited the entire sea.

The office's wooden door was gently pushed open. There were no hurried footsteps, only the soft, steady click of heels against the marble floor, followed by a gentle yet naturally authoritative female voice. "What is it, Sengoku?"

Sengoku looked up at the person entering, set down the intelligence report in his hand, and leaned back in his chair. Rubbing his throbbing temples, he spoke with undisguised exhaustion. "Tsuru."

The newcomer was none other than Tsuru, the chief of staff at Marine Headquarters.

Her crisp vice admiral's uniform made her already composed and refined bearing seem even more pronounced. She still held a half-finished knitting project in her hands—a sight all too familiar within the Marines.

She, Sengoku, Garp, and Zephyr had fought their way out of the recruit camp together. She was an old comrade who had entrusted her life to them, and the only person in all of Marine Headquarters who could calm the restless Sengoku.

Tsuru sat down on the sofa and glanced at the deep furrow between his brows. Lightly twirling a knitting needle between her fingers, she spoke calmly, though understanding colored her tone. "Looking like that, you've run into a troublesome problem?"

"See for yourself." Sengoku sighed and pushed the intelligence report on his desk toward the edge, his voice full of frustration with nowhere to vent it.

Tsuru set down her knitting and picked up the report, reading through it carefully.

As her fingertips traced line after line across the page, her previously relaxed brows gradually furrowed. The further she read, the deeper the gravity in her eyes became.

A mysterious force that had appeared out of thin air, with no prior intelligence records whatsoever; during a routine patrol, they had deployed combat power at no lower than colonel level, meaning their leader was at least an elite vice admiral, perhaps even stronger than Momonga, with at least several vice admirals and over a dozen rear admiral-level core fighters hidden beneath them;

They could walk on waves without support, showed no trace of Devil Fruit abilities, and could even control seawater barehanded to block naval cannon fire;

Their counter-surveillance capabilities were even more absurdly powerful. They had occupied the West Blue in silence for an entire year, swallowed over a hundred ships, and even destroyed two Marine patrol vessels, yet Headquarters' intelligence network covering the Four Blues had received not the slightest word of it beforehand.

Tsuru's heart gradually sank.

Any one of these details alone was enough to put the Marines on edge, much less so many hidden dangers gathered together.

She set down the report and lightly tapped the paper with her fingertips. Her tone remained steady, but she struck precisely at the heart of the matter. "Momonga's judgment won't be wrong. He can't hold this situation down by himself.

What do you intend to do? You can't send Aokiji and the others, can you? The Four Emperors are watching the New World closely. The three Admirals simply can't spare the time."

Sengoku irritably raked a hand through his already somewhat messy white hair, his tone full of frustration. "Where's Garp? Where has that old bastard run off to now? Don't tell me he slipped back to the East Blue again?"

Tsuru shrugged helplessly, picked up her knitting needles again, and stitched two rows with nimble fingers. Her tone carried the accustomed complaint of someone who had long since gotten used to it. "Where else could he be? At his age, he spends every day chasing East Blue bandits around. He has no sense of propriety at all. You can't count on him for Headquarters matters in the slightest."

"That bastard!" The veins at Sengoku's temple throbbed as he cursed through gritted teeth, but there was nothing he could do. After all, Garp had always been like this. He had served as a Marine his entire life, yet had never taken the Fleet Admiral's orders or the rules of rank to heart.

After a long silence, his fingertips repeatedly passed over the list of officers spread across the desk. At last, they stopped on three names. He looked up at Tsuru, his tone seeking her opinion. "Have Momousagi make the trip. Bring Onigumo and Hōshō with her."

He knew perfectly well that, as a Marine Admiral candidate, Momousagi was undeniably among the first tier below the Admirals. Though she might not match the three Admirals, she was certainly no weaker than the commanders under the Four Emperors.

Onigumo and Hōshō were both battle-hardened veteran elite vice admirals, their raw strength on par with Momonga's. With the three of them leading the operation, even if the opposing leader truly surpassed Momonga, they would certainly have the strength to fight.

More importantly, though Momousagi and Tsuru shared no blood ties, they were as close as sisters. Tsuru had always looked after Momousagi as if she were her own younger sister. He had to hear Tsuru's thoughts first.

Tsuru met his gaze. Her knitting paused for an instant, but after a brief consideration, she nodded. There was not the slightest hesitation in her voice. "Military matters come first. You decide."