On the Revolutionary Army's side, there was also someone like Magellan, a man who concerned himself with nothing and merely sat in the most crucial position, waiting to die. That was Leo, who had been sitting in the cabin drinking and chatting with Dark King Rayleigh.
If the Revolutionary Army won, he would sit in the cabin and await the dawn of victory. If the Revolutionary Army lost, he would sit in the cabin and await death's arrival. Fundamentally, he was no different from Magellan.
He had not participated in this battle at all. He had not commanded anyone, nor did he know what was happening outside. Other than Nico Robin's eyes, all he could rely on was his own sight.
How the Revolutionary Army had won and how the Marines had lost—he, as someone in the rear, knew absolutely nothing about it.
But when the captured Sengoku and Garp were brought over to sit with Dragon, Leo finally understood why Sengoku had lost everything.
As everyone knew, war was the continuation of politics. But from another perspective, was a war between two nations, two organizations, and two systems not also a contest of politics and institutions?
And a contest between political systems involved the mobilization of resources, the movement of personnel, and communication.
The Revolutionary Army, whose command structure was highly direct and whose members often mingled among the grassroots, would never have problems with command, communication, coordination, or resource mobilization.
But after all, this was a newly emerging regime. Holding the Marines and the World Government to their standards was asking too much.
And precisely because of that, the Celestial Dragons and Sengoku had not communicated nearly enough. Sengoku did not know the Celestial Dragons' bottom line, and the Celestial Dragons did not know Sengoku's hidden cards.
If