Somewhere in the New World — an uncharted stretch of sea.
Beneath the waves near an unremarkable, desolate island, a colossal shadow suddenly emerged.
The next instant, an enormous whale wearing a crown burst through the surface, its cavernous maw yawning open like the entrance to a mountain.
From within its mouth, three figures leapt out in succession, landing steadily on the island's sandy shore.
They were Gern Reginald Sigmar, Dracule "Hawk-Eye" Mihawk—and an entirely unexpected third presence:
The "Tyrant," Bartholomew Kuma.
Gern was still dressed in his simple black shirt, but an unsettling stench of blood and a lingering, icy killing intent clung to him, not yet fully dispersed.
In his hand, he carried a bundle hastily wrapped in expensive fabric, dark red liquid steadily dripping from its seams onto the sand below.
The reason they had managed to so eerily evade all Marine surveillance—and return from Sabaody to the New World at a speed bordering on the impossible—was thanks to Kuma's utterly broken Paw-Paw Fruit ability: repulsion.
And also the full cooperation of King Neptune of Fish-Man Island.
Neptune had dispatched his most trusted sea beast companion—Hoai, a creature capable of diving into extreme depths and avoiding all detection—to rendezvous at a predetermined location and handle the final leg of the covert underwater transport.
Gern stepped onto solid ground and casually set the blood-soaked bundle down by his feet. Then he turned back toward the massive Hoai.
"Thanks, big guy," Gern said, giving the beast a nod. "Pass my regards to Neptune for me. I owe him one for this."
In Hoai's enormous eyes, a trace of distinctly human fear still lingered.
It let out a low growl in response, then turned without hesitation and plunged back into the unfathomable depths, vanishing into the dark sea.
Even now, it dared not recall the scene—
When Gern had appeared in Ryugu Palace like the Grim Reaper himself, carrying the two dripping heads of Celestial Dragons, demanding that Neptune send him back to the New World by the fastest and most secret means possible.
The sight of its towering master—the Knight of the Sea—nearly collapsing on the spot, drenched in cold sweat, was burned into its mind.
The image was so vivid that even a sea beast like Hoai would have nightmares about it.
Once Hoai was gone, Gern finally turned his attention to the two figures behind him.
Hawk-Eye remained as stoic as ever, arms folded around the black blade Yoru, as if everything that had just transpired were no more than an ordinary journey.
He offered no comment on Gern's extreme actions—but the fact that he had chosen to follow in the first place already spoke volumes.
Kuma's sudden appearance and decision to join, however, had genuinely caught Gern off guard.
As Gern was shaking off surveillance and preparing to act alone, it had been Kuma who contacted him—using a Den Den Mushi he had left behind years ago—and reached out of his own accord.
Gern had been surprised, but there was no reason to refuse.
Kuma's Paw-Paw Fruit was virtually unmatched in terms of strategic mobility, and his personal combat strength was formidable.
With Kuma's addition, Gern's core faction had finally taken complete shape:
Catastrophe (himself),God (Enel, critically injured),Swordmaster (Hawk-Eye),Devil (Douglas Bullet),Tyrant (Kuma),Gold (Tesoro),Serpent Empress (Toritoma),Healer (Libo).
Combat, mobility, logistics, economy, medical support—
Nearly every crucial domain was covered.
They had become a truly terrifying collective—one capable of shaking the very foundations of the world.
When he first learned of Enel's fate, the rage that surged through him had nearly incinerated his reason, driving him to the extreme act of beheading Celestial Dragons at Sabaody.
But once the fury had been vented, Gern's mind—cold, precise, almost cruel—reasserted control.
Releasing that anger had been necessary.
But it was only the appetizer.
What he needed now was not blind, reckless collision fueled by wrath.
He would turn this incident into a storm—one that maximized the benefits for himself and the Catastrophe Faction.
If the World Government dared to touch his people, then they had better be prepared to have a massive chunk of flesh torn from their bodies.
Through this act of vengeance, he would fully establish the name Catastrophe—making the New World, and even the entire world, understand who truly must never be provoked on these seas.
They had been quiet for long enough.
It was time to let the world witness the storm of Catastrophe.
...
Hawk-Eye glanced at the steadily bleeding bundle by Gern's feet, then toward the general direction of Marine G-10 Base. Calmly, he asked:
"What's next? Straight back to G-10?"
In his view, having announced their return in such a brutal fashion, the logical move was to return immediately to headquarters—take control of the center, consolidate their forces, and prepare for the inevitable, overwhelming retaliation and military pressure from the World Government.
Gern, however, shook his head.
The cold smile on his face carried an inscrutable depth.
"Before that, I need to make sure a certain someone… calms down first."
His gaze seemed to pierce space itself, fixed on some distant point. There was a trace of resignation in his eyes—but far more of an unquestionable will to dominate.
Before dealing with outsiders, stabilize the inside.
His foundation in the New World could not be allowed to crack.
So before the real operation began, someone had to be silenced.
At the side, Kuma watched Gern's profile in silence.
To be honest, it was difficult for him to reconcile the decisive, calculating, faintly sinister Marine Admiral before him with the boy he once knew in the Sorbet Kingdom.
Time and power seemed to have completely transformed that person.
And yet—
Kuma's gaze drifted to the blood-soaked bundle.
It was this very man—now unfamiliar, terrifyingly strong—who had done what Kuma himself had never even dared to imagine.
He had severed the heads of Celestial Dragons.
Directly. Brutally. Without hesitation.
In that moment, the bone-deep fear Kuma harbored toward the World Government and the Celestial Dragons had been torn open by the sheer violence of the act.
What Kuma needed… was exactly this kind of power.
This kind of madness—unrestrained, unflinching, willing to trample every rule.
Only a Gern like this had any chance of pulling Ginny back from that abyss of despair.
Just then, Gern bent down and lifted the bloodstained bundle once more.
He turned his head toward the tall, silent Kuma, a smile crossing his face—hardly warm, but unmistakably transactional.
"Kuma."
"Could I trouble you to use that convenient ability of yours one more time… and send me somewhere?"
His tone was polite, but his eyes made it clear this was a demand, not a request.
"Where to, Mr. Gern?"
"The Whitebeard Pirates."
"The Moby Dick."