Momonga, anger flaring hot in his chest, forced himself to his feet. One hand pressed tightly against his wound, the other gripped his sword as if it alone was holding him upright. Blood seeped between his fingers, but his voice still carried sharp and clear.
"Damn you, bastard… you can't leave here."
Gojo stopped mid-step and turned toward him, the faint sound of the sea and distant cries of struggling marines echoing in the background. His blindfold remained in place, hiding his eyes, yet his gaze felt unmistakably direct.
"Vice Admiral," Gojo said calmly, his tone steady, almost indifferent, "I understand how you are feeling."
A faint breeze stirred his coat.
"You must be feeling humiliated—five Vice Admirals joining forces and still unable to deal with one person."
There was no mockery in his voice. Just a simple statement.
"But right now, you should focus on one thing. If we really fight to the death at the very least, I can kill all of you. That much, I can guarantee."
A small pause.
"Though the method would be… self-destructive. I might die as well."
The distant crash of waves filled the silence between them.
"So what would be the point of that?"
Gojo slightly tilted his head.
"For now, you should focus on saving your subordinates. They're still in the sea. You came here with more than ten thousand marines, right? Try to save however many you can… rather than wasting your time fighting us."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
He's not bluffing…
The thought settled heavily among the Vice Admirals. Even injured, even not at his peak, Gojo stood there with an unshaken calm that felt more dangerous than any killing intent.
Gojo turned away.
Without another word, he began to walk, his steps unhurried.
This time, none of the Vice Admirals moved to stop him.
Because now, he wasn't alone.
The Straw Hats had arrived.
And the balance of the battlefield had already shifted.
All the Vice Admirals understood it clearly now—they were at a disadvantage.
If Gojo had been alone, they could have taken risks, pushed harder, forced the battle into a desperate corner. But things had changed. The Straw Hats now stood with him, and none of them looked weak—far from it.
A quiet tension hung in the air.
Momonga and Doberman were both severely injured, their uniforms stained with blood, their breathing heavier than before. Even so, neither had lost their combat effectiveness. They still stood ready. Still dangerous.
But—
Given the strength Gojo had already displayed… it wasn't enough.
The memory of his movements, his precision, the use of his Armament Haki—it lingered like a shadow over all of them.
If the fight continued, Gojo could kill both Momonga and Doberman.
And maybe… even one more Vice Admiral.
That much was certain.
Which meant—
He wasn't boasting.
At the very least, he could take all of them down with him.
And we might still lose more…
Yes, in the end, they might be able to leave Gojo severely injured—perhaps even kill him. But that would come at a cost neither side could afford. It would be destruction… on both sides.
And that kind of outcome—
Was not feasible.
The waves crashed against the shattered ships of Buster Call, the distant cries of drowning marines still echoing faintly in the background, grounding their decision in harsh reality.
So none of the Vice Admirals moved.
None of them dared to stop Gojo and the Straw Hats from leaving.
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and Gojo turned and walked away—no hesitation, no backward glance. Moments later, their walk turned into a sprint.
Within minutes, all four of them were running toward the front of Enies Lobby, the wind rushing past them, footsteps pounding against the ground as urgency replaced the earlier stillness.
That was where the sea train awaited.
With Kokoro present, their escape was secured. She was an exceptional sea train driver—more than capable of navigating them safely back to Water 7.
…
As they drew closer to the front of Enies Lobby, the wind rushed harder against them, carrying the scent of salt and smoke. Their footsteps struck the ground in sharp, rapid rhythm.
Zoro, running just to the right of Gojo, finally broke the silence. His voice carried curiosity with a hint of certainty.
"You were fighting those Vice Admirals… and using them as a whetstone to become stronger, right?"
Gojo didn't slow down. His blindfold fluttered slightly with each step, his expression unreadable.
"Yes."
A brief pause.
"I was using them as a whetstone."
There was no attempt to hide it. No justification. Just a simple admission.
Zoro's grip tightened slightly on his swords as he ran. He could tell—he had seen it in the flow of the battle, in the way Gojo adapted, sharpened, refined himself with every exchange.
Because…
He had felt something similar himself.
That fight…
Just a few days ago, on the Sky Island, he had been pushed to the brink. A desperate battle, his life hanging by a thread.
And then—
At the very moment when defeat seemed inevitable… when there was no other path left…
He had felt it.
The breath of all things.
In that instant, he had stepped into a new realm—Iron cutting.
That battle had become his whetstone.
So he understood.
Without needing another word.
Soon enough, they reached the front.
The remaining Straw Hats were already there.
And the moment Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji saw what stood before them—
They froze.
Shock.
Surprise.
Right in front of them… was their ship.
The Going Merry.
The very ship they had decided—no, been forced—to abandon at Water 7.
That decision alone had torn them apart.
Luffy and Usopp had fought over it. And because of that… Usopp had left the crew.
Luffy, as captain, had made the choice.
He had to.
And yet—
Here it was.
"…What is it doing here?"
As if to answer the doubt hanging heavy in the air, Sogeking suddenly shouted, his voice urgent beneath the mask.
"Luffy! She came here on her own—to rescue us! I heard her voice! She spoke to me… she said she came to save us! Going Merry is absolutely fine! I told you before!"
The wind carried his words across the deck.
Everyone present knew.
They all knew that the man behind the mask… was Usopp.
But Luffy didn't respond.
Instead, he moved.
In a single motion, he leapt onto the Going Merry's deck and walked up to the sheep figurehead, his hand reaching out without hesitation.
His palm rested gently against it.
"Thank you… Going Merry."
For a brief second, everything went still.
And then—
The ship trembled.
Just slightly.
…It answered.
Gojo, Zoro, and Sanji boarded as well. Gojo stood quietly, his blindfold in place.
No one touched the helm.
No one gave an order.
And yet—
The Going Merry began to move.
The wood creaked softly as the ship shifted, the water parting beneath it. Slowly, steadily, it pushed forward—without steering, without guidance.
On its own.
The Going Merry moved.
Gojo watched the scene in silence.
He wasn't surprised.
So it's really happening…
Before transmigrating into this world, he had come across this phenomenon—stories of ships that, through the sincerity of their owners, awakened something more.
A spirit.
And among all of them…
The most well-known example was right here.
The Going Merry.
So while the others felt shock or disbelief—
Gojo simply stood there as the ship carried them forward.
As if it had made its own decision.
And chosen… to bring them home.
----
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