Gern left Zephyr's office.
As he reached the exit of the administration building and was about to step outside, a rich, resonant voice came from beside a wall in the shadows to his side.
"Gern."
Gern paused and glanced sideways.
Dracule Mihawk stood with his back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.
His signature black hat was pulled low, concealing part of his face, but it could not hide those golden eyes, still as sharp as a hawk's in the shadows.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed squarely on Gern.
"Do you intend to challenge this 'world'?" Hawk-Eye's voice was calm, yet he had asked a question that could have stopped anyone's heart.
Gern did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked Hawk-Eye up and down, taking in his impeccable posture and handsome, aloof face. He clicked his tongue, his tone carrying a rather ill-timed note of admiration.
"I have to say, you're one damn handsome bastard, Mihawk.
Both your looks and your bearing set the standard for men."
"It's all in the bearing." At the unexpected compliment, the corner of Hawk-Eye's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly into a faint, self-satisfied smile.
Then it vanished just as quickly, and he brought the conversation back on track, his golden eyes locked on Gern. "You still haven't answered my question."
Seeing how serious Hawk-Eye was, the ease faded from Gern's face as well. He chuckled and countered, "Does that even need an answer?"
"As long as I keep going and take that next step... a direct clash with the World Government will be inevitable."
"Because they'll never allow a 'Marine' who is beyond their control, and might even threaten the foundations of their rule, to exist."
As he spoke, Gern recalled the warning Whitebeard had given him before his