The grim news arrived while Sengoku was still reviewing documents at his desk, a thick pile of papers stacked neatly in one corner.
The goat he kept — the one that liked to eat his paperwork — had been driven out moments ago.
Although he had already announced his impending retirement, since the successor to the Fleet Admiral had yet to be decided, Sengoku continued to carry out his duties at Marine Headquarters.
But then, one phone call shattered his pleasant vision of a peaceful retirement.
What Smoker relayed through the Den Den Mushi was so shocking that Sengoku wondered if he were dreaming.
Even though Smoker was the type who never joked and always spoke seriously, Sengoku had to confirm the information several times before he could accept that what he was hearing was real.
After hanging up, he sat frozen with the pen still in his hand, staring ahead blankly — like a statue made of plaster — unable even to feel the passage of time.
How could things have turned out like this?
This was nothing like the future of the Marines he had carefully planned before the "War of the Best."
After a long silence, the door to the Fleet Admiral's office burst open with a loud bang. Garp charged in first, followed closely by Tsuru.
Fifteen minutes earlier, Sengoku had called the two of them, urging them to come immediately.
Even from his few terse words, both had sensed that something truly unbelievable had happened, so they dropped what they were doing and came straight to his office.
Tsuru first used her Kenbunshoku Haki to confirm that there was no one else in the corridor outside, then closed the door behind her.
Garp, meanwhile, strode directly up to Sengoku's desk, slammed both hands down on it, and roared, his beard bristling and eyes wide, "What you said on the phone—was that true!?"
Sengoku looked up at him but remained silent.
His mind was a tangle of thoughts; he felt utterly exhausted, too weary even to answer.
But his silence alone was enough of an answer.
"…How could this happen…"
Garp pressed a hand to his forehead, reeling. His vision swam, and he staggered before sinking down heavily onto the nearby sofa.
"We should never have agreed to their duel," Tsuru said coldly. "It was a foolish idea. You've handed Davy Jones the perfect opportunity to strike."
Though the full details of the Punk Hazard incident were still unclear, she knew Akainu's strength well enough to realize: if not for that duel, Akainu would never have lost so completely that he couldn't even escape.
Garp sat dazed for a moment, then asked, "What about Kuzan? Is he with Smoker's group?"
This time, Sengoku finally broke his silence.
"According to Smoker, both he and Tashigi have been afflicted by Davy Jones' 'curse.' Smoker's curse seems to be the stronger of the two — he's been forced to leave in search of a way to lift it."
Garp frowned in confusion.
"'Curse'? What kind of curse?"
"It's said to be a power that traps its victims in hallucinations — causing them to lose all sense of friend and foe and attack everything around them."
"There's actually an ability like that?"
Garp wasn't exactly shocked; in his long career as a Marine, he'd seen all manner of bizarre Devil Fruit powers.
However, Davy Jones' abilities clearly did not come from a Devil Fruit — and to this day, they had no idea what their true origin was.
Sengoku nodded grimly.
"Smoker speculated that the trigger must be the mark of terror left upon those who suffer crushing defeat at Davy Jones' hands — what he called a 'Brand of Fear.'"
"After enduring a period of nightmares, once that person encounters Davy Jones again at close range, the curse is activated."
Sengoku sighed deeply as he spoke.
Tsuru sat with her arms folded, deep in thought.
"In that case," she said at last, "the fact that Sakazuki hasn't become a prisoner of the curse is, in a sense, a small mercy."
"Yes." Sengoku adjusted his round spectacles.
Tsuru pondered a moment longer. "And Tashigi? What do we do with her?"
Sengoku stroked his long, rope-like beard thoughtfully.
"As long as she doesn't come into contact with Davy Jones, she should be fine. But, to be safe, we'll need to assign someone to monitor her at all times."
"That's all we can do."
Tsuru nodded helplessly.
She had a soft spot for Tashigi and had once hoped the young woman might become the leading female figure of the next generation.
But now, with this curse, her future had grown clouded. Even if Marine Headquarters were willing to overlook it, the World Government certainly wouldn't allow her to hold a position of power.
At that moment, Garp clenched his fists and suddenly stood up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Tsuru rose as well, moving to block him.
"This all started because of me," Garp growled. "If I'd finished Davy Jones off back at Reverse Mountain, none of this would've happened."
In other words — he intended to settle the cause with his own hands.
"So you're planning to throw your life away?" Tsuru snapped. "We've already lost one admiral, another has vanished, and a third is away on assignment. Now you, 'Hero' Garp, want to die too?"
"Even if I die, I'll drag Davy Jones down to hell with me!"
Garp's eyes blazed with fury.
"You're being reckless!" Tsuru shouted back. "Sakazuki and Kuzan couldn't defeat him — and you're almost eighty years old! What can you possibly do now?"
"With these fists," Garp roared, "the same fists that once smashed through Rocks!"
"You don't have Roger at your side anymore!"
"I don't need Roger!"
Their voices clashed like thunder, rising higher and higher until it felt as though the entire ceiling might collapse.
"Enough! Both of you!" Sengoku slammed a hand down on the desk.
Tsuru turned toward him. Seeing the stormy look on his face, she fell silent.
"Garp…" Sengoku's voice was low but firm. "You can't go. Not only can you not go — you must stay here at Headquarters and keep morale from collapsing. The Marines can't afford to lose another pillar."
"Think of the younger Marines — what kind of world are they facing now? Even if you take Davy Jones down with you, there's still Kaido, Big Mom, and Shanks watching for their chance to strike!"
"Endure it, Garp. Back in our day, we faced Roger, Rocks, Whitebeard, and Golden Lion all at once — and we got through it, didn't we?"
"If we hadn't stood in front of them to take the blows, how could the next generation — Akainu, Aokiji, Kizaru — ever have risen?"
Sengoku's scolding poured out like a torrent. Only after venting his fury did he exhale heavily and sit back down.
Garp's weathered face changed color several times under the rebuke, but deep down he knew his old friend was right.
After a moment's hesitation, realizing how impulsive he'd been, he returned to the sofa and sat down again.
Seeing that Sengoku had managed to rein Garp in, Tsuru spoke up: "Our top priority now is to recall Kizaru. We can't afford to let anything happen to him too."
"Agreed," Sengoku said. "I'll contact the World Government shortly. You reach out to Borsalino — tell him to return to Headquarters immediately and disengage from the remnants of Whitebeard's and Blackbeard's crews."
Tsuru nodded.
"And one more thing," Sengoku continued. "We need to investigate Vergo. According to Smoker, there were human experiments happening on Punk Hazard — and Vergo was working for both the Yonko and the Warlords."
"He was a spy?"
"It appears so. But we still don't know which faction he was serving. Damn it — a pirate rising all the way to vice admiral! No wonder some of our recent operations failed."
"I understand," Tsuru said quietly. "I'll get to the bottom of it."
Her thoughts then turned to Drake, who had disappeared without a trace. From certain underground channels, she had learned that he had joined Davy Jones' crew at Fish-Man Island.
With her keen intuition, she immediately guessed Drake had gone undercover.
But now, realizing how terrifying Davy Jones truly was, she couldn't help worrying for his safety.
"Davy Jones…"
With a sharp crack, Sengoku snapped the pen in his hand. Despite his outward composure, he still couldn't fully suppress his fury.
"Garp," he said at last, his voice heavy, "it seems we won't be retiring after all… or rather, before we can, we'll have to drag Davy Jones down first."
Garp looked at Sengoku, eyes narrowing. "That's exactly what I was thinking."
Sengoku tossed the broken pen into the wastebasket.
"But we can't throw ourselves at him now. That would be irresponsible to the future of the Marines."
"We need more power — the strength of the Seven Warlords, the power of science, and the resolve of our young Marines."
"What are you planning?" Tsuru asked, recognizing the decisive look in Sengoku's eyes.
Sengoku paused for a long moment before replying, "I've decided to initiate a World Military Draft — to recruit and select the finest talents and elites from around the globe into Marine Headquarters."
Both Garp and Tsuru stared at him in surprise. The plan, once enacted, would have both benefits and risks.
The advantage was clear — it would replenish Marine strength quickly, perhaps even expand it.
But the risk was equally great — no matter how strict the screening, there was no guarantee they wouldn't let in more traitors like Vergo. And if such people rose to high positions, the consequences could be catastrophic.
Sengoku could read their thoughts at a glance.
"I've considered everything you're thinking," he said quietly. "But after the War of the Best and the Battle of Punk Hazard, I have no other choice."
Garp and Tsuru fell silent. They understood.
Sengoku pressed his fingers against his brow, weary. "Tsuru… prepare a death notice."
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