Short on Money?

While the New World seethed beneath the news agency's relentless hype—

Marine Headquarters, Admiral Sengoku's office.

Behind his heavy desk, the vein at Sengoku's temple throbbed with a steady, visible rhythm.

He held a freshly delivered newspaper. Its pages still smelled of printing ink.

The headline was even more outrageous than the last.

—"The Navy's Twin Heroes Dominate the Age! Vice Admiral Rock, the Azure Dragon, Stands Beside Garp the Iron Fist as the Pirates' Nightmare Descends!"

They had even included an illustration.

Rock stood high in the sky, wreathed in thunder, his face expressionless.

Garp grinned, his fist bigger than his head as he threw a punch.

Behind them, Kaido went flying, islands shattered and collapsed, and pirates wept rivers of tears.

Sengoku stared at the picture for several seconds.

Then he took a deep breath.

"..."

He slowly lowered the newspaper and looked toward the center of his office.

There—

The two men hailed by the outside world as "the Navy's Twin Heroes," "pillars of the age," and "the two war gods who dominate the New World"—

Were pulling at each other's faces over a bag of rice crackers, without a shred of dignity.

"Let go, you old geezer!!!"

"You let go! I saw them first!!!"

"Bullshit!!"

"My face! You're tearing my face off!!"

At Sengoku's temple—

Pop.

The vein gave another sharp throb.

"—Garp!!!"

"—Rock!!!"

Sengoku slammed his desk, his roar nearly lifting the ceiling.

"You two!!"

"Settle down already—!!!"

And yet—

In the middle of the office, the struggle continued.

"These ones are sweet!!"

"I don't care!!"

"Don't you only eat savory ones, old man?!"

"Today I feel like having sweet ones!!"

Sengoku: "..."

He fell silent for a full three seconds.

Then, as if finally surrendering to reality, he made an agonizing decision.

He stood,