Chapter 62: The Marine Hero Moves Out!
[Marine Headquarters, Marineford]
The Fleet Admiral's office was a sanctuary of tension, insulated from the bustling training grounds outside by thick walls and heavy oak doors. However, the atmosphere inside was anything but peaceful.
Clatch.
Sengoku the Buddha slammed the receiver of the Den Den Mushi back onto its cradle with a force that threatened to crack the snail's shell. He exhaled a long, heavy breath, his fingers massaging the throbbing vein on his temple.
Across the desk, Vice Admiral Tsuru sat calmly on a leather sofa. She slowly lowered her teacup, the porcelain making a soft clink against the saucer. Her sharp, intelligent eyes observed her old colleague's distress.
"Is there news?" Tsuru asked, her voice steady and unhurried. "Regarding the whereabouts of the Suzaku Pirates?"
"It's a headache," Sengoku grumbled, grabbing a stack of papers and tossing them onto the desk. "We just received a confirmed report from the G-8 Branch patrol stationed near Jaya. Suzaku and his crew have surfaced in Mock Town."
Tsuru's eyes narrowed slightly. "Mock Town? That lawless zone?"
"They didn't just surface," Sengoku continued, his tone deepening with frustration. "According to the intelligence, a single member of their crew—the pink-haired maid identified as Ram—annihilated two entire pirate crews in the middle of the street. It wasn't a fight; it was an execution."
He picked up a report sheet, reading the eyewitness testimony. "The surviving pirates who fled the island were terrified out of their wits. They ran straight into a Marine patrol ship and surrendered voluntarily, begging to be arrested rather than stay on the same island as 'that pink demon.' They claimed she used invisible blades to dismantle dozens of men in a blink of an eye."
Tsuru tapped her finger rhythmically against the armrest of the sofa, processing the information.
"Wind manipulation... or perhaps invisible slashes," she mused. "That matches the profile of the 'Ram' entity. And the others?"
"The core members are all accounted for. Suzaku, the 'Wing of Disaster' Ulquiorra, the 'Blackwing Demon' Albedo, and the blue-haired maid, Rem," Sengoku listed the names like a curse. "The World Government has been breathing down my neck all morning. They are urging us to expedite the process. They want Suzaku offered the position of Shichibukai immediately."
"It is a logical move on their part," Tsuru analyzed coldly. "The balance of the Three Great Powers is precarious. If a wildcard like Suzaku joins the Yonko or starts his own faction, it destabilizes the New World. Since their location is confirmed..."
She paused, her gaze shifting to the empty seat beside her, then back to Sengoku.
"We need someone with sufficient weight to handle this. Let Garp go."
Sengoku blinked, then nodded slowly. "Garp... Yes. In terms of raw strength, he is the only one who can guarantee safety. If the negotiations succeed, excellent. If they fail..."
"If they fail," Tsuru finished his sentence, "Garp is capable of suppressing them or at least retreating without casualties. The intelligence brought back by Aokiji and Kizaru was clear: Suzaku is far beyond the scope of a 'Super Rookie.' He is a monster. Sending a standard Vice Admiral would be sending them to their death."
"With Garp's strength, he can control the battlefield," Tsuru added. "Especially that blue-haired maid. If she truly possesses Shiki's Float-Float Fruit ability, she is the key to their mobility. Garp knows how to deal with flying adversaries."
CRUNCH!
A loud, obnoxious sound of shattering pastry suddenly echoed from the corner of the room, shattering the serious atmosphere.
Sengoku and Tsuru froze. They slowly turned their heads toward the source of the noise.
There, sitting behind a large potted plant that had apparently concealed his bulk, was Monkey D. Garp. The Hero of the Marines was leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up, casually tossing a round senbei rice cracker into his mouth.
"Pfft—cough, cough!"
Noticing the death stares from his two oldest friends, Garp choked on crumbs. He pounded his chest a few times, sending a cloud of cracker dust into the air.
"How troublesome!" Garp swallowed the bolus of food and puffed out his cheeks, looking thoroughly aggrieved. "Why are you two plotting against me? I just got back from the East Blue! Do you know how exhausting it is to cross the Calm Belt? The Sea Kings were particularly noisy this time!"
A vein pulsed visibly on Sengoku's forehead. He stood up, slamming his hands on the desk.
"Garp! When did you get in here?!"
"Just now, just now," Garp waved his hand dismissively, clapping the crumbs off his pristine white suit. "I came in for tea, but you two were so serious talking about pirates and politics. Boring stuff."
He picked up the teapot and poured himself a cup, ignoring the Fleet Admiral's fury.
"Besides," Garp took a loud slurp, "it's just a few rookies, right? Why not let Kizaru go? He's made of light; he runs faster than anyone. Or send Kuzan, he likes cycling on the ocean."
"Kizaru has another mission in the New World!" Sengoku snapped. "And Kuzan is currently tracking the movements of the Revolutionaries. We are short-handed, Garp! Furthermore, this is a direct order involving the Shichibukai appointment. We need a figure of authority!"
"Tch. Troublesome," Garp scratched his gray hair, yawning widely. Then, his eyes lit up with a mischievous idea. "Oh! I know! Send Akainu! Sakazuki loves this stuff, doesn't he? Always yelling about 'Absolute Justice' and burning things. He'd love to go execute—I mean, recruit—some pirates."
Tsuru shook her head gently, her expression unamused. "Sakazuki is the worst possible choice for a negotiation, Garp. If we send him, there won't be a recruitment; there will be a war. He would try to sink their ship the moment he saw them. We need someone who can talk... and punch, if necessary. Not incinerate."
"So I have to go?" Garp wailed, collapsing back into the sofa dramatically like a petulant child. "I'm an old man! I need my rest! I haven't even seen my grandson in... well, a while!"
Sengoku looked at his old friend's antics and sighed, the anger draining out of him to be replaced by exhaustion. He knew Garp. The man complained, but he was a Marine to the bone.
"Garp," Sengoku said, his voice softer. "This is important. Suzaku is dangerous. We can't let him run wild unchecked. Just deliver the letter. Test him if you want. But handle it."
He paused, offering the only bribe that worked. "I'll give you a week of leave when you get back. You can go attempt to beat your record for eating donuts."
Garp's ears perked up. He sat up straight, a grin spreading across his face.
"A week? And you're paying for the donuts?"
"Get out of my office," Sengoku groaned.
"Bwahahaha! It's a deal!"
Before the words had even faded from the air, Garp's figure blurred and vanished from the office, leaving only a few spinning dust motes and an empty plate of rice crackers.
Sengoku slumped back into his chair, covering his face with his hands. He looked at Tsuru helplessly.
Tsuru, quite used to this dynamic after forty years, simply picked up her teacup and took a serene sip. "He will get the job done, Sengoku. He always does."
[The Vermillion Wing — Ascending the High West]
The world outside the ship had turned into a chaotic gray void.
The Vermillion Wing was no longer sailing on water. It was suspended in a thick, swirling mist, rising vertically through the cloud layers. The air grew colder and thinner with every passing minute, forcing the crew to wrap their coats tighter around themselves.
On the quarterdeck, Suzaku stood calmly, ignoring the drop in temperature. His Vermillion Bird bloodline kept him perpetually warm, an internal furnace that defied the environment.
[Multiverse Summoning System]
[Fame: 1,450 (+50)]
He glanced at the semi-transparent blue panel floating in his vision. The 'Fame' counter flickered, ticking up by small increments.
It seems the commotion in Mock Town has started to spread, Suzaku thought, swiping the panel away. The surviving pirates must have reached a Marine outpost or contacted the news coos.
Although fifty points of Fame was negligible compared to the thousands needed for a high-tier summon, every little bit counted. Fame was the currency of his ambition, and soon, he would shake the world enough to earn a fortune.
"Suzaku-sama."
A soft, polite voice spoke from his left. Ram approached silently, her maid steps making no sound on the damp wood. Her calm red eyes watched him with a mixture of reverence and seriousness.
"What is it, Ram?" Suzaku turned, meeting her gaze.
Ram hesitated for a moment, then turned slightly, her gaze sweeping across the lower deck. There, huddled near the main mast, were Kiyo and the group of women and family members Suzaku had rescued from the Celestial Dragons back in the Sabaody Archipelago. They were looking out at the white mist with expressions of fear and wonder, holding onto each other for support.
"Suzaku-sama naturally has his own considerations for his actions," Ram began, her voice calm and clear, but laced with her characteristic sharpness. "But Ram still has one concern she cannot suppress."
She gestured discreetly toward the civilians. "These people... Rem said you rescued them from the World Nobles. That was a kind act. However, our voyage is destined to be one of conquest and blood. We are enemies of the World Government. If we keep taking them with us, are they not just... dead weight?"
She didn't mean it maliciously. Ram was simply pragmatic. In her mind, the safety and efficiency of Suzaku's crew were paramount. Civilians were liabilities in a war zone.
"Will it not put them in greater danger? And will they not hinder your pace?"
Suzaku looked at Ram, a gentle, understanding smile appearing in his eyes. He knew this seemingly cold-tongued maid was actually as soft-hearted as her sister, Rem. She worried about the crew's efficiency, but she also worried about the fate of those civilians if they were dragged into a Buster Call.
"You are right to worry, Ram. That is why we are going here," Suzaku explained, gesturing to the mist above them.
"This trip, splitting up with Ulquiorra to head to Sky Island, serves three strategic goals."
He held up one finger.
"First, we need a stable base of operations. The Grand Line is chaotic. We need a fortress. Sky Island—specifically the Angel Island and the Upper Yard—is located 10,000 meters in the sky. It is a natural fortress. Easy to defend, impossible to attack unless you know the route."
His eyes gleamed with ambition. "I plan to conquer it. Take it over. And when the time is right in the future, we will use Rem's power to move the entire island down to the New World as our flagship territory."
"Furthermore," he lowered his voice slightly, "there is a city there called Shandora. It is lost to history. It contains a Golden Bell and a city of gold. The reserves are immense. This will be the startup capital we need to establish our empire. Billions of Berries, Ram. Enough to build fleets, buy information, and destabilize economies."
Ram's eyes widened slightly. "A city of gold... I see."
"Second," Suzaku raised a second finger. "Sky Island hides a very practical Devil Fruit. The Rumble-Rumble Fruit (Goro Goro no Mi). It is a Logia type, granting the power of lightning. It is considered invincible. It is another mandatory acquisition for this trip."
His gaze finally returned to Kiyo and the rescued civilians on the deck below.
"As for the third point, it concerns them."
"Since they were unwilling to disembark at the islands we passed along the way, insisting they wanted to stay and work for us to repay their life debt, I cannot simply throw them into the sea," Suzaku said with a shrug. "However, the New World is too dangerous for them right now."
"Sky Island is isolated. It is a paradise compared to the surface. It is the ideal location to settle them. They can farm, build, and maintain the base while we continue our journey. They will be safe there, under our flag, far from the reach of the Marines and the Celestial Dragons."
Ram listened quietly, absorbing the information. Slowly, she nodded, a look of realization dawning on her face.
"A rear base... logistics... and funding."
She bowed deeply, her maid skirt swaying. "I apologize for my shortsightedness. Suzaku-sama's consideration is thorough. Ram was overthinking it. It is indeed a perfect solution."
This maid, always known for her strictness and efficiency, now showed a subtle hint of admiration. She realized her master wasn't just a powerful fighter; he was a general planning a campaign.
"Suzaku-sama! I think we found it!"
The moment Ram's voice fell silent, Rem's clear, excited voice rang out from the bow of the ship.
"Hold on everyone! We're breaking through!"
Suzaku and Ram turned simultaneously, looking up.
The Vermillion Wing groaned as the keel sliced through the final, dense barrier of the imperial cumulus clouds. The grey mist that had shrouded them for the last hour suddenly thinned, shredded by the ship's momentum.
Whoosh!
Bursting through the ceiling of the world.
The view suddenly opened up, transforming in an instant from claustrophobic grey to blinding, heavenly white.
"This is..."
It was a magnificent sea. A sea of pure, snowy white clouds that stretched endlessly to the horizon, rolling and frothing just like ocean waves. But unlike the sea below, this ocean glowed.
The sunlight, unobstructed by the atmosphere of the lower world, poured down in intense, golden rays. It coated the surface of the White Sea with a shimmering brilliance, making the entire world look like a painting of the afterlife.
The Vermillion Wing splashed down—not into water, but onto the dense cloud surface—sending up sprays of white mist instead of sea foam. The ship bobbed gently, finding its buoyancy in this new, strange medium.
"We... we really reached the sky!"
Nami rushed to the ship's railing, gripping the wood so hard her knuckles turned white. She gazed at the unimaginable sight, her mouth hanging open.
"The log pose... the needle is pointing straight... well, flat. We are actually sailing on clouds!" Her navigator's brain was trying to process the physics and failing, leaving only pure wonder.
"This is... Sky Island..."
Rem, who had stopped using her Devil Fruit power as the ship settled, walked to the bow. The pure white landscape was reflected in her large blue eyes. "It is so beautiful... and so bright."
In the far distance of the cloud sea, distinct shapes broke the horizon. They were not clouds, but massive, towering structures of white cumulus that acted as landmasses. Faintly, amidst the white, the vibrant green of vegetation could be seen—a stark contrast that proved life existed up here.
"Look there!" Rem pointed. "Greenery! And... are those waterfalls made of clouds?"
Suzaku walked to the bow, the wind of the White Sea blowing through his hair. He looked at the distant silhouette of the 'God's Land.'
"It looks like we've reached our destination," Suzaku said, a predatory grin touching his lips.
"Prepare to make landfall. Skypiea, and our City of Gold, are right ahead!"
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