Marine Headquarters.
Marineford.
There was no grand celebration, no flowers carpeting the harbor, and no appointment envoy from the World Government.
The Fleet Admiral handover ceremony, which should have lasted several days, had been reduced to its simplest form.
Because the seas no longer had time to waste on such things.
In Headquarters Plaza, tens of thousands of Marine Headquarters elites had gathered.
From the most ordinary soldiers, to officers who had rushed back from nearby branch bases, to the core fighting forces of Headquarters standing at the very front.
Everyone's gaze fell upon the center of the plaza.
Sengoku stood there, his Fleet Admiral's cloak already removed.
He lowered his head and looked at the Fleet Admiral epaulets that had accompanied him for so many years. After a moment of silence, he removed them with his own hands.
Then he walked over to Rock.
Sengoku held out his hand.
"Take it."
Rock accepted the epaulets.
The motion was simple—so simple that it hardly resembled the transfer of power over the greatest military organization on the seas.
Yet everyone understood that, from this moment onward, some things would change forever.
This time, the World Government had not chosen the Fleet Admiral for the Marines.
The Marines had chosen their own Fleet Admiral!
Sengoku turned around and picked up the brand-new Fleet Admiral's cloak beside him. On its back were only two enormous black characters.
—[Justice]
He personally draped the cloak over Rock's shoulders.
The sea breeze swept past, and the white coat billowed fiercely behind him.
At the very front of the plaza.
Garp stood with his arms folded, grinning broadly.
Zephyr stood beside him, a smile on his face as well.
Tsuru clasped her hands together and watched quietly.
Further back.
Sakazuki.
Kuzan.
Borsalino.
Issho.
Bullet.
Along with all