Marineford, Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral's Office.
It was afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the enormous arched windows, illuminating every speck of dust in the air, yet it could not dispel the atmosphere so heavy it seemed ready to drip water.
This was a closed-door meeting of the highest order, with only four participants: Fleet Admiral Kong, Admiral Sengoku the Strategist, Vice Admiral Garp the Hero of the Marines, and Vice Admiral Tsuru, the Chief Staff Officer.
Behind the massive desk, Kong stood with his back to the other three, gazing at the forest of warship masts in the harbor outside. His broad back seemed to bear the weight of the entire Marine force.
He had remained silent for nearly ten minutes. Only the unconscious tap-tap of his fingers against the hard desktop echoed through the pin-drop silence, striking at everyone's heart.
The events on Minion Island in the North Blue had been laid out before him in clear detail through the accounts of Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru, each supplementing the others.
Kong's tapping fingers stopped. His gaze flashed like lightning as it shot toward the Hero of the Marines.
"Garp, your report mentioned that he possesses the ability to 'learn and imitate others' techniques in battle.' Are you certain of that?"
The smile on Garp's face faded somewhat as he grew serious. He set down his bag of rice crackers and said firmly,
"I'm sure, old man Kong. That brat exchanged blows with me, and after just those few clashes, he'd already learned seventy or eighty percent of how I generate force with my 'Fist Bone' strike!
"The power was still far behind mine, but that unique feeling and trajectory couldn't possibly be mistaken!
"And I personally saw him use Redfield's techniques, as well as Chinjao's Hasshoken.
"They weren't exactly the