The next day, Marineford.
The morning sea breeze swept through the harbor.
The lively traces left behind by last night's banquet had yet to fully fade. Barrels and grills still sat in the plaza, while several Marines leaned on brooms and yawned.
A faint scent of wine and charcoal still lingered in the air.
Inside the Fleet Admiral's office, Sengoku stood by the window with his hands behind his back, gazing at the distant sky.
There, a blue-white streak of lightning shot out from above Marineford.
It was incredibly fast.
In the blink of an eye, it pierced the clouds and raced toward the Red Line.
Rock had departed for the Holy Land—Mary Geoise.
Watching that bolt of lightning grow ever more distant, Sengoku's brow gradually furrowed.
"Don't let it be like last time..."
He murmured softly, "Don't go causing some huge incident."
Behind him, Garp sprawled carelessly across the sofa.
He held a piece of roast meat he had no idea where he had swiped, chewing without a care in the world.
Upon hearing Sengoku's words, he immediately broke into a wide grin.
"Hahahaha!"
"Sengoku, you're overthinking it!"
"That brat Rock is just going to report in, not start a war!"
Sengoku turned and glared at him. "That has absolutely no credibility coming from you!"
"You and Rock are both equally worrying!"
On the other side, Zephyr stood with his arms folded, his expression steady.
Hearing their exchange, he spoke calmly. "Relax. He knows his limits."
The corner of Sengoku's mouth twitched as he slowly turned to Zephyr.
"Zephyr, are you sure you're talking about Rock?"
Zephyr fell silent for a moment, then looked away.
"...Probably."
Sengoku: "..."
Tsuru sat beside the sofa, about to lift her teacup. Looking at the three old men, she let out a soft