The transmission array was finished in short order.
It was Dimon's first time seeing Imu's sigils up close—similar to his own, but with subtle, unsettling differences. The three CP0 agents knelt around the circle.
"Please descend."
Static crackled. Black smoke coiled out of the center, thickening… and a slender silhouette rose from the inked geometry.
"Well done. You've worked hard."
"Greetings, Gunko-sama!"
They kept their eyes pinned to the floorboards—as if the wood itself were holy.
"Up," Gunko said, then paused at the sight of Dimon—this 'Spandine' who stubbornly did not prostrate himself. She let it go. "You're Spandine, yes? I'm here on the Government's behalf to oversee. Keep this quiet."
"As you wish, Gunko-sama."
Eight years since God Valley; she hadn't changed at all.
"How stands the island?"
"Troops are deployed; trial in five days. Whether Roger comes… uncertain."
"He'll come." Gunko's reply was crisp. "Roger is, after all, a licking dog."
…You know that term too? Dimon almost choked. Maybe he'd said it enough that even the Holy Knights were picking it up. Poor Roger—one day the whole world would know.
Gunko's eyes sharpened. "I'm hungry."
Right—lunch. Dimon led her to the mess, had the cooks whip up something delicate. She ate, cheeks flushing faintly, entirely pleased.
"The next few days, you'll shadow me," she ordered when they finished. "Follow my lead."
So Dimon split himself between Wano by day (playing tour guide to Toki) and Enies Lobby by night (babysitting Gunko). No sleep, no problem—demons don't need it; his human habit did.
Five days later, the air was wire-taut.
From gate to courthouse to tower, Enies Lobby bristled. Front Island held a wall of giant Vice Admirals and 10,000 elite Marines. Main Island bristled before the courthouse—giant gatekeepers, officer lines, and the likes of Akainu and other rising sharks. Judiciary Tower had become a command post; the true heavyweights stood on the balcony.
And even if all that failed, Gunko would call the Holy Knights through. There'd be no escape.
"Where do you think they'll come in?" she asked, bored enough to make it a game.
"Underwater," Dimon said.
On the balcony, the same question ran its loop.
"Which approach?" Zephyr asked, low.
"Ships can't breach the iron fencing, and the Gate of Justice won't open," Tsuru reasoned. "There's only one obvious path…"
Marines had planned around that "one" path, layering force inward. Beside them, Garp frowned. He hated baited traps and bureaucrats, but as a Vice Admiral… he held his tongue.
"Don't lose your head, Garp," Sengoku warned. "Our positions aren't the same."
"I know!" Garp barked. "Don't ruin my thinking."
Thinking, right. Sengoku said nothing; he knew that face.
The Warden Columbus stood like a grave—voice cold, presence colder. "Feels like the wrong direction…"
Zephyr blinked. "What?"
Columbus didn't answer.
The island-wide klaxons did.
"Contact! The Roger Pirates have appeared!"
"Bridge of Hesitation!"
"They came from below!"
Sengoku's jaw tightened. Tsuru stared. "From the back? Impossible…"
High on the tower, Gunko's heterochromatic gaze snapped to Dimon. "You were right."
Dimon glanced over his shoulder. Beneath the bridge, the Oro Jackson surged up from the sea. The coating burst; water sheeted off the hull.
On deck, Roger drew Ace, vaulted to the bridge, and grinned at the world.
"We're here, Marines! Kept you waiting. Shakky's all right, yeah?"
Rayleigh and Jabba dropped in beside him.
"Snatch her and go," Rayleigh said.
"Mess is crowded. Let's thin it," Jabba added.
Three men exhaled—and three cords of black-crimson lightning laced together, roaring across the sky.
Conqueror's Haki swept the entire island.
The heavens dimmed as if a storm rolled in at noon. Marines fell like ripened wheat in a scythe's path. In under ten seconds, the meticulous deployment was ruins—99.9% out cold without ever laying eyes on their foes. Even the giant Vice Admirals dropped to one knee, drenched in cold sweat.
"So this is the Pirate King's Conqueror's… what range. What weight."
A golden sun detonated in midair.
Sengoku the Buddha landed in front of Roger, a blazing wall. Garp and Zephyr hammered down a heartbeat later.
Roger laughed from the gut. "Long time, Sengoku. Just the three of you?"
Zephyr didn't bother with words—he lunged.
Jabba met him head-on, twin axes howling.
Fist and steel collided—Haki shrieked—and the bridge shook.
"Should've prepared better, Black Arm."
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