"Who did you say you wanted?!"
"Douglas Bullet."
Gern's voice was calm, as though he were merely asking for an ordinary soldier,
rather than the "Devil's Descendant" who had once rivaled Pirate King Roger and thrown the seas into chaos.
Yet that name sounded entirely different to Sengoku.
The slight softness in his expression vanished without a trace, replaced by utter shock and disbelief.
After a transformation worthy of a Sichuan opera face-changing performance, Sengoku shot up from the Fleet Admiral's chair, planted both hands on the desk, leaned forward, and barked,
"Gern! Do you have any idea what you're saying?!"
"Bullet?! That Devil's Descendant, that utterly dangerous, unrestrained lunatic,
the man even crazier than the vast majority of pirates!
You actually dare ask me for him?! Do you know what that means?
Should I throw in the Red Count while I'm at it?!"
"Could you?"
"Like hell I could!!!"
Sengoku's roar echoed through the Fleet Admiral's Office. Having inadvertently shouted too loudly, he picked up his cup and took a sip to soothe his throat.
"In any case, Bullet is currently imprisoned in the deepest part of Infinite Hell, on Impel Down's sixth level!
The World Government will never allow him to see daylight again!
Don't even think about it! That condition is absolutely out of the question!"
In stark contrast to Sengoku's fury, Gern did not so much as raise an eyebrow.
During the pause after Sengoku finished, he even leisurely raised a hand and picked his ear with his little finger.
Then he gently blew on his fingertip, looking as though the other man was making a noisy fuss over nothing.
"Tsk. Keep your voice down, Fleet Admiral Sengoku." Gern lowered his hand and lazily looked up at Sengoku, whose face had gone livid with anger. "You're