The G-3 Branch cafeteria.
Inside the private dining room reserved for high-ranking officers, the air was thick with the scent of fine cooking.
A massive round table groaned under the weight of a banquet: golden, crispy Skypiea-style tempura; a rich, creamy broth simmered from the spine of a giant Sea King; and even Sanji's specially crafted combat stew, designed to rapidly restore stamina. Every dish gleamed under the lights, challenging the restraint of everyone present.
On one side of the table sat the five Marine Vice Admirals transferred from headquarters Doberman, Onigumo, and their peers. Their posture remained rigid, their very presence carrying the battlefield aura of men who had spent their lives at war.
On the opposite side sat Hawk and his inner circle. Hawk occupied the seat of honor, flanked by his trusted adjutants Dane and Hibari. Nearby were Smoker, Tashigi, and Kujaku. At the far end of the table sat Zoro and Sanji, who even here couldn't stop glaring at each other as if locked in a silent duel.
Hawk raised his glass, filled with a strong brew from Skypiea.
"On behalf of the G-3 Branch, I toast you all," he said, his tone calm but carrying weight. "Our rules here are simple. Kill the fiercest pirates, drink the strongest liquor, and enjoy the richest meals. For the justice of the Marines cheers."
The Vice Admirals exchanged glances, each of their eyes flickering with unspoken emotions.
Earlier that day, Hawk had taken them on a tour of the G-3 Branch, and the impressions were still raw in their minds.
At the port, they had seen three colossal battleships docked like immovable mountains of steel. Their hulls bristled with cannons, each one gleaming with a cold metallic edge. Beside them were five more large warships and ten medium-sized vessels, all meticulously maintained by Marines working with precise efficiency.
"Wait… what the hell?!" one Vice Admiral had muttered. "This is supposed to be a branch's fleet? With the five ships we brought from headquarters, G-3 now fields a force comparable to two full-scale Buster Calls!"
Then came the training grounds. Thousands of Marines trained with brutal intensity, their shouts echoing like beasts in the wild. In one corner, Zoro and Sanji were sparring, their strikes so powerful that even the air pressure knocked nearby soldiers off balance.
But what truly unsettled the Vice Admirals wasn't the soldiers' strength. It was their eyes.
They didn't carry the numb obedience drilled in by endless discipline, nor the fatigue of veterans who had fought too many battles. Instead, their gaze burned with fanatical focus a hunger for blood, a passion for battle, and an absolute loyalty to their commander.
This wasn't merely an army following orders. This was an army following faith.
And finally, the Vice Admirals had stepped into the war room. A massive sea chart stretched across the wall, marked with red lines that mapped out not defensive patrols, but offensive strike routes. Dozens of pirate crews had been circled in crimson, annotated with estimates of manpower and bounty levels.
Mock Town, already destroyed by Hawk, had been crossed out in black ink.
The next target, indicated by a bold arrow, made the Vice Admirals' breath catch.
Alabasta.
And written beside it, the name of one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea: Crocodile.
The Vice Admirals had been stunned into silence.
This wasn't just ambition. This was audacity on a scale that shook them to their core.
A single branch base planning the purging of the entire Paradise?
In that moment, they understood.
No wonder Admiral Akainu had placed such weight on this young man, seeing him as the successor to the Hawk faction's future. No wonder Fleet Admiral Sengoku had broken convention to thrust him into such a high position.
Hawk's ruthless hand against pirates, his iron grip over G-3, and his willingness to devour the whole of Paradise all of it revealed a leader destined to reshape the Marines.
And they also understood why so many influential figures had gathered at his side: Hibari, daughter of Akainu; Kujaku, granddaughter of Tsuru; Smoker, close comrade of Aokiji; and Tashigi, already a well-regarded officer at headquarters.
The message from Marine HQ was clear.
Renn Hawk was the standard-bearer they had chosen to lead the Navy into a new era.
The five Vice Admirals hadn't come merely to "assist." They had come to stand guard over this banner, to ensure it never fell.
Realization settled over them, and the last shadows of doubt faded away. Their gazes toward Hawk no longer carried the cautious scrutiny of elders watching a rising junior, but the respect due to a true commander.
"Rear Admiral Hawk!" Doberman suddenly rose to his feet, his usually stony face betraying rare emotion. He lifted his glass and declared, "The strength and resolve you've shown at G-3 command our admiration. From this day forward, we five, along with our fleets, will follow your lead without hesitation! For the future of the Marines cheers!"
The other Vice Admirals rose in unison, their voices booming as their glasses clashed together.
"For the future of the Marines!"
The crisp ring of glass striking glass reverberated like a declaration of war. From that night forward, the G-3 Branch would move as one, bound by a single will.
As the banquet wore on, the mood warmed. The Vice Admirals loosened their stiff manners, and Hawk, ever strategic, welcomed the chance to deepen bonds.
"It's about time you met my core team properly," Hawk murmured with a faint smile.
He introduced Dane first, his most trusted officer. "This is Dane, a Brigadier from headquarters and my right hand. If I'm ever away, the G-3 Branch is his to command."
Dane rose, bowing deeply to the Vice Admirals. "I look forward to working closely with you all."
Doberman nodded gravely. "A man trusted by Hawk to this extent needs no further proof. We'll rely on each other."
One by one, the others voiced their agreement.
Then Hawk's gaze shifted toward the corner of the room. He motioned with his hand, and Zoro and Sanji approached.
"This is Captain Roronoa Zoro, and this is Major Sanji, our head chef and a formidable fighter in his own right," Hawk said. His lips curved into the faintest smile. "These two cause their share of trouble, but their strength and potential… not bad at all."
The Vice Admirals chuckled.
"Not bad?" Onigumo's deep voice rumbled with amusement. "Their power far exceeds 'not bad.'" His sharp gaze swept over the pair. "Zoro's blade work has already reached a dangerous edge. And Sanji's kicks sharp, precise, and merciless."
He raised his glass in appreciation. "Your branch is full of hidden dragons, Hawk."
Doberman, too, allowed himself a rare smile. "They remind me of the Admirals in their youth unreasonable monsters, all of them."
Zoro, meanwhile, had gone silent. His eyes moved across the Vice Admirals, each one radiating sword intent like drawn steel. When his gaze locked onto Onigumo, he felt it strongest of all.
He clenched his fists, his blood surging. Hawk hadn't lied. Most Vice Admirals were masters of the blade.
Zoro exhaled slowly, then turned to Hawk.
"Big brother…"
Hawk gave the faintest nod.
Permission granted.
Zoro faced Onigumo directly, his voice steady and respectful. "Vice Admiral Onigumo. Your sword aura… it's powerful. I'd like the honor of testing myself against it."
The room went silent.
Every eye turned toward them, waiting.
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