"If it isn't necessary, don't fight that madman. You'd be risking your life. But if you're on a mission, that's another matter."
Fujitora's warning was sincere. Having fought Werther several times, he knew exactly how strong Werther was.
"Oh? You seem to think highly of the Thunder Swordsman. I'll have to fight him someday."
Ryokugyu, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them and looked at Fujitora.
"Mr. Issho, don't talk up the enemy and undermine our own confidence."
Momousagi looked displeased. She clearly had a poor opinion of Werther.
"That isn't what I mean. You should all know roughly what happened aboard Ark Maxim. I'm ashamed to say that even with the advantage on our side, I was gravely wounded."
As he spoke, Fujitora pulled his robe open slightly, revealing a slash that ran across his chest.
The other two Admirals frowned. The scar was severe, but was there any need to show it to them?
"Mr. Issho, what are you trying to say?" Momousagi asked.
"Half a month." Fujitora opened his pale eyes and stared sightlessly ahead.
"What?" The other two Admirals were even more confused.
"It took half a month for this wound to stop bleeding. If I hadn't used the Press-Press Fruit to hold it closed, the blood loss alone might have killed me."
Their expressions changed. For a man with Fujitora's constitution, a wound that bled for half a month was extraordinary.
"Thank you for the warning, Mr. Issho. I'll be careful if I ever fight the Thunder Swordsman."
Momousagi smiled at Fujitora. She understood now. He wasn't making excuses for his injury or showing off a scar.
He wanted them to beware of Werther's slashes. His own wound was warning enough.
The three Marine Admirals began chatting, and the atmosphere grew cordial.