The New World, the Marines' frontline command headquarters.
Early morning.
Inside the conference room.
Morris and Vice Admiral Tsuru had stayed up all night, directing the battle.
On the large screen, the Marines' encirclement kept shrinking. The results were plain to see, but so were the sacrifices...
Below, the officer compiling the figures reported the previous night's gains and casualties:
"As of 6:43 this morning."
"The fronts encircling the pirates in the directions of Totto Land and Wano Country have advanced by a quarter overall. Our defensive lines have stabilized."
"As for casualties..."
"Vice Admiral Doberman, Vice Admiral Bunil, Vice Admiral Meredith, Vice Admiral Strawberry... thirteen vice admirals in total have been killed in action."
"All fleets under their command carried out suicide ramming attacks. None of the pirates they intercepted broke through the defensive line."
When he finished, silence fell over the conference room.
A moment later.
Morris drew a deep breath and waved a hand.
"You may go."
The officer lowered his head and replied:
"Yes, sir."
Vice Admiral Tsuru, seated at the head of the table, also wore a deep frown.
"The casualties are too heavy."
"Thirteen vice admirals lost in a single night."
Morris shook his head.
"There was no other choice."
"We don't have time to deal with them slowly."
The battlefront in the New World stretched too far. This was not a matter of surrounding one or two islands, but establishing an encirclement around dozens.
The length of the front and the vast area it covered left them short of both commanding vice admirals and troops.
Though the Four Emperors were dead and more than half their officers had been eliminated, that only accounted for the Emperors' forces. Among the tens of thousands of pirates inside the encirclement, there were plenty of powerful independents.