Chapter 553: The World Government Disappears
The unnamed island was alive with activity.
Fish-Men and mermaids were throwing themselves into building their new home with everything they had.
Those who wanted to live above ground were organized by the soldiers and had already begun felling trees to raise houses. Those who preferred to stay in the water had started carving out rock and collecting coral below the surface.
Fish-Men were born with ten times the physical strength of an ordinary human. Neither task presented any real difficulty for them.
After everything they had endured, things were moving in the right direction.
There was, however, one group on the island that stood apart from the rest.
They had gathered on one side of the island, roughly fifty or sixty thousand in number.
They were the humans who had been living on Fish-Man Island.
Some had been settled there for years. Others had simply been unlucky enough to be passing through when disaster struck. Whatever the circumstances, they had been caught up in the evacuation and brought along with everyone else.
Now they were here, communications devices confiscated, making do with what the island had to offer.
"I genuinely don't understand the world anymore."
A few men worked side by side in the forest, swinging axes and shaking their heads. "We were just trying to do business. How did we end up in the middle of this?"
"It's unbelievable," another said with a kind of exhausted wonder. "The Red Line actually collapsed. Fish-Man Island, of all places, was forced to evacuate. Who could have imagined any of this?"
"It was Imu, wasn't it? Using that ultimate weapon from eight hundred years ago, the one that defeated Joy Boy." A third man spoke, his voice carrying a tremor of genuine fear. "Something that even the ancient weapons combined could barely hold back. That thing is basically a natural disaster."
An entity that could casually shatter the Red Line and reconnect two entire halves of the Grand Line was something that could, given a little more time, tear apart human civilization entirely. On that scale, destroying a world was not a difficult proposition.
"Even so, I still believe."
The last man's voice was quieter but considerably more certain. He kept working as he spoke. "Director Brett and the others are going to win."
"Donald." The first man stopped and stared at him. "We're being held here. And you're still defending Brett? Saying he'll win? Did you miss the part where he ran?"
"He retreated because the timing wasn't right." The man named Donald was a merchant, someone who had been doing business with Fish-Man Island for a very long time. His tone was steady. "Did none of you see the warship sitting on that enormous ship's deck? That has to be the ancient weapon Pluton. The legendary warship."
"Imu has the ultimate weapon. Brett has ancient weapons of his own. And I'd wager it isn't only Pluton."
"So the war is shaping up just like it did eight hundred years ago. What is there to be afraid of? I believe in Director Brett. I believe he'll win."
The other men went quiet for a moment, then shook their heads in unison with a mix of resignation and helplessness.
The man spoke a good game, but the truth was he had tied himself so thoroughly to Fish-Man Island over the years that this crisis had brought him to the edge of ruin. He had nowhere else to place his bets.
Whatever the reason, there was nothing any of them could do for now. All they could do was wait.
While the island's population worked and explored and argued and settled, Brett sat cross-legged on a clifftop at one edge of the island, three Den Den Mushi laid out in front of him, talking with his partners.
"So you're settled in for now, Brett?"
Zephyr's voice came through the first one, familiar and warm.
"For the moment, yes." Brett nodded. "I have to thank you again for this, Zephyr. Without your help I wouldn't have found a suitable island this quickly."
"It was nothing. I came across it during a scouting run." There was a brief pause, and then a note of genuine regret crept into his voice. "It's a shame, though. Fish-Man Island took so long to become what it was. And then, in the blink of an eye, all of that was wiped out."
"As long as the people survived, everything else can be rebuilt."
Dragon's voice came through the second Den Den Mushi. "Better this than leaving five million people to die with the island."
"True enough."
Brett felt those words land with real weight.
Save the people and lose the land, and both the people and the land remain. Save the land and lose the people, and both the land and the people are lost.
Staying alive came first. Everything else could wait.
"You know, Dragon, every now and then you actually say something sensible."
The third Den Den Mushi carried the booming voice of an old man.
Garp.
Though his title had changed. It was more accurate now to call him Fleet Admiral of the New Navy.
After Sengoku fell, there was really only one person with enough standing to lead the rebuilt force. The three Admirals were capable fighters, but Fujitora and Ryokugyu had only been with the Navy for a few years. Nobody was going to accept either of them as Fleet Admiral. Kizaru had the seniority but had spent his entire career cultivating an image of effortless unreliability, and the man himself had not the slightest interest in the position.
So naturally it had to be Garp.
The one person who could not dodge it. The most respected, the most powerful, the most qualified man in the entire organization.
A man who had never once in his life held the rank of Admiral had skipped straight to the top.
"I never thought we'd end up fighting on the same side," Dragon said, a shade of genuine reflection in his voice.
In his original calculations, the Navy had been the Revolutionary Army's most formidable adversary. His own father had been the most troublesome opponent he expected to face.
And then the World Government had managed, through a remarkable series of decisions, to push the Navy into becoming their ally and turn his father into one of their most powerful comrades.
Fate was a strange thing.
"Save the reminiscing for later. Let's talk about what matters."
Tsuru's calm voice cut through the conversation. She had apparently taken the Den Den Mushi from wherever Garp had set it down. "Mariejois has been completely destroyed. But when we sent people to investigate the Red Line, all they found was an empty gathering point. The World Government's people are gone. The Celestial Dragons are gone."
A beat of silence.
"So either they've relocated," Zephyr said, his tone turning measured, "or Imu has decided to do what we've done and go into hiding."
"If that's what's happening, this becomes significantly more complicated."
Dragon's concern came through clearly. "That weapon can fly. If Imu keeps the entire World Government in the air with him, we have no way of pinning down their location."
"And," Brett added, "if our own location is exposed, we become targets for an immediate strike."
The situation had taken a turn for the worse.
"Though it may also present an opportunity."
Tsuru's voice was unhurried. "If Imu has genuinely decided to wait and bide his time, that means we only need to stay careful and we will have enough time to see Pluton completed."
The corner of Brett's mouth lifted. "And when that day comes, an exposed location actually works in our favor. Imu coming to us is exactly what we want."
"So from this point forward," Zephyr said after a moment, "all of us give everything we have."
"Obviously."
They answered as one.