Storms That Would Shake the Entire World

World Government, a secret office.

Saint Figarland Garling sat before a marble table, his fingers lightly stroking the report, his gaze calm and profound.

He read every line of the report with absolute clarity, yet not a single ripple crossed his face.

Only his icy gaze remained, as though he were looking upon a lifeless object.

Unhurriedly, he set down the document in his hand and looked through the window toward the distance, as if examining every fluctuation upon these seas.

The report had conveyed every piece of intelligence with complete accuracy—the Neo Marines' alliance, Sengoku's cooperation with Jin An, and their continual growth.

"It seems... the situation has changed somewhat."

He murmured, his voice carrying a faint, sinister chill.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, as though time itself had come to a halt because of his words.

Garling slowly rose to his feet, not a trace of emotion showing on his indifferent face.

Only his steps gradually became steady and heavy. He paced back and forth through the room, the hem of his white robe swaying with him and making faint rustling sounds.

The air seemed to freeze. Amid the silence, only the sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty space.

"Sengoku joining forces with the Neo Marines was unexpected, yet reasonable."

He stopped, and a barely perceptible killing intent slowly appeared in his eyes.

"They actually managed to form such a resolute partnership in so short a time."

He frowned slightly, reached for a bottle of wine, and poured himself a small glass. The liquid swayed gently within the cup.

"Perhaps we need to reconsider our strategy for this war."

He raised the glass and gently swirled it, watching the wine trace a graceful arc as though he had sunk into his own thoughts.

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