"What?" Kuzan asked, he spoke in a quiet voice that somehow louder than the crashing waves.
"Do you have an objection?"
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't move a muscle, just stood there in the air, hands shoved deep into his pockets, lazily glancing down at the Marine Rear Admiral.
But in that simple question was the weight of a thousand arctic winters.
The Rear Admiral felt a chill that had nothing to do with Kuzan's Devil Fruit.
It was a primal, bone-deep cold that shot up his spine and froze the blood in his veins.
His mind went completely blank.
'Objections? Is he joking? You are Admiral Aokiji! One of the three strongest monsters in the entire Marines!'
You don't object to a force of nature.
You just pray you're not in its path.
"N-NO, SIR! NONE AT ALL!" he stammered, waving his hands frantically in front of him as if to ward off an invisible blizzard.
Beads of cold sweat popped out on his forehead, instantly freezing in the admiral's presence.
"Then I suggest you return to Headquarters," Kuzan said, his tone utterly flat.
"YES, SIR! RIGHT AWAY, SIR!"
The Rear Admiral felt as if he'd been granted a royal pardon from the executioner himself.
He scrambled to bark orders, his voice cracking with panic.
"TURN THE SHIPS AROUND! FULL RETREAT! NOW! NOW! NOW!"
The fleet turned with a speed and precision they usually reserved for fleeing a Sea King.
It was faster than a startled rabbit, as if they were afraid that a single second's delay would result in their ships, and everyone on them, becoming a permanent part of a new iceberg.
As for their orders?
The direct command from the World Government to hunt down and eliminate CP9?
That was a problem for someone with a much higher pay grade.
Let the Fleet Admiral deal with it.
The Rear Admiral had absolutely no desire to find out what happened when you made Admiral Aokiji genuinely angry.
.....
"We're… saved…"
Watching the Marine warships shrink into dots on the horizon before vanishing completely, the members of CP9, who had been tensed for a final, suicidal battle, finally let the reality of the situation sink in.
The adrenaline that had been keeping them on their feet vanished, and they collapsed to the scorched ground, the last of their strength draining away.
"Phew…we're safe for now…" Rob Lucci gasped, his body slumping against the broken wall.
He watched with a complex, unreadable expression as Kuzan slowly descended back to the island.
Why? The question echoed in his mind.
Why would a Marine Admiral show up here? And why would he help us?
None of it made sense.
But one undeniable fact remained: they were, for the moment, safe.
This whole mission had been a catastrophic failure.
They hadn't gotten the Pluton blueprints, they'd been humiliated by a rookie pirate crew, and now they were fugitives from the very government they had served their entire lives.
The legendary reputation of Cipher Pol 9 was in tatters.
'What do we do now? Where can we possibly go?'
"Thank you, Admiral Aokiji," Lucci said, forcing his battered body to stand.
He gave the admiral a deep, formal bow, his voice a mixture of genuine gratitude and profound confusion.
"Don't thank me," Kuzan said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
His gaze swept over the broken agents before landing back on Lucci.
"So… what's the plan now?"
"The.... plan?" Lucci let out a short, bitter laugh, a flicker of raw uncertainty in his cold eyes.
"We've been abandoned. Hunted. What plan can there be for men like us?"
"Is that so?" Kuzan offered a noncommittal smile. "Well then… how about a change of scenery? A new employer?"
"A new employer?" Lucci repeated, frowning. "What… what are you talking about?"
"It's Captain Mike over there," Kuzan said, casually jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
"That kid wants you lot to become his subbordinates. That's the only reason I bothered to show up."
"?"
The CP9 agents all turned, their eyes following Kuzan's gesture.
There, standing a short distance away, was the young man from the submarine.
A cigar dangled from his lips, and he was watching them with an expression of detached amusement.
It wasn't Admiral Kuzan who had saved them.
There was someone else pulling the strings.
But who was this man?
"Mike?" Rob Lucci's brow furrowed.
The name tickled the edge of his memory.
As a top intelligence agent, he was privy to information most of the world never heard.
And then it clicked.
'Ah, that's right. The newly promoted Captain of the Marine Headquarters. The one assigned as Admiral Kizaru's personal aide… his name was Mike, wasn't it?
"A pleasure to finally meet you all," Mike said, stepping forward.
"Captain Mike of Marine Headquarters." He took a slow drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl from his lips before continuing.
"So, how about it? Interested in joining my team?"
"Joining… your team?" Lucci was taken aback.
He couldn't help but laugh again, a dry, humorless sound.
"With all due respect, sir, we are currently wanted criminals with the entire World Government hunting us. Are you certain you want to associate with us?"
"Wanted criminals?" Mike scoffed as if the idea was ridiculous. "Relax. That won't be a problem for much longer."
He said the words so casually, so lightly, but to the ears of the CP9 agents, they landed like a thunderclap.
'What kind of joke is this? These are bounties issued by the World Government itself! You can't just make them disappear!'
"This is…" Lucci hesitated, his pragmatic mind struggling to compute this new, impossible variable.
He glanced at Admiral Aokiji, standing silently behind Mike like an impossibly powerful bodyguard.
Could it be? Could this young man really have connections that reached the very top?
Enough to make the Five Elders themselves reverse a direct order?
Brrr brrr… Brrr brrr…
As if on cue, a Den Den Mushi began to ring, the sound impossibly loud in the tense silence.
"Hello?" Mike answered, lazily pulling the snail from his pocket.
"Yooooo~" A familiar, sleazy voice oozed from the speaker.
Just from that one word, Mike knew exactly who it was.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes.
'This old man… he really won't lift a finger unless you grease his palm'.
At headquarters, he was the king of slacking off.
But now, with a billion Belly on the line, he apparently moved at the speed of light.
And, of course, he was calling to brag about it.
"Is it done?" Mike asked, cutting to the chase.
"With me personally handling it, of course it's done," Kizaru's voice oozed smug satisfaction.
"To Saint Saturn, they were just a few discarded pawns, anyway. The bounties on all former CP9 members have been officially revoked. They're free."
"Only you could pull it off so quickly, old man," Mike said with genuine, if slightly sarcastic, praise.
While this casual conversation was happening, the CP9 agents just stood there, frozen.
They stared at Mike, their minds completely blank, as if they'd been struck by lightning.
What… what is happening?
One minute ago, they were wanted fugitives.
Now… they were free? And from the sound of it, Admiral Kizaru himself had personally arranged it?
This was beyond surreal.
Admiral Aokiji physically stops the pursuit.
Admiral Kizaru magically erases their bounties.
This was more unbelievable than a fever dream.
Rob Lucci felt his entire worldview, the rigid, black-and-white structure he had built his life on, shaking violently.
He thought he understood how the world worked.
Power, order, justice.
But this… this was something else entirely.
Who was this young man who could command two of the Navy's greatest military powers as if it were the most natural thing in the world?
"Done!" Mike announced, snapping the Den Den Mushi shut.
He grinned at the shell-shocked assassins.
"As of this moment, you are no longer wanted criminals." He took another drag of his cigar.
"So? Have you made up your minds?"
The CP9 agents looked at each other, their eyes filled with a dizzying mix of disbelief and the profound relief of a death row inmate who's just been pardoned.
"We… we're really not wanted anymore?" Kalifa asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"The arrest warrants… are just… gone?"
"Of course," Mike said with a casual nod. For him, it really was that simple.
Rob Lucci took a deep, shuddering breath.
He was a pragmatist.
A survivor.
And he knew an impossible opportunity when he saw one.
He stepped forward and bowed his head.
"We are willing to serve under you, Captain Mike."
"We're willing!" the other agents echoed, their voices firm.
Their hesitation was gone, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose.
Following this impossibly well-connected young man was infinitely better than dying on a deserted island.
"Good," Mike nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
"You've made a very wise choice." He turned his head slightly.
"Kuro."
"Yes, Captain," Kuro stepped forward, all professional efficiency.
"Brief them. Fill them in on their new situation and what our objectives are. Then arrange for their medical treatment," Mike ordered. His gaze swept over them again, softening slightly as it rested on Kalifa's injuries.
"What they need right now is rest. And the best doctors we have."
"Understood!"
…
Meanwhile, far out at sea, a tattered, hastily constructed raft bobbed on the waves.
It shakily approached the grand, imposing silhouette of Marineford.
Atop the raft, a crude, hand-painted flag featuring three skulls flapped noisily in the sea breeze.
"Zehahahaha… hic!"
-----------------------------
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