"Indeed… very hard to guess~~"
Looking at Gern's expression—seemingly puzzled, yet clearly more informed than anyone else—Kizaru was no fool.
After all, maintaining a lifetime of "slacking off" while ensuring no one ever truly trusted you enough to build a faction around you wasn't something achieved through laziness alone.
There's an old saying: if you don't step forward, someone will push you forward.
But Kizaru had managed to avoid even that. No one wanted to push him.
That alone spoke volumes about how carefully calculated each of his choices had been.
So when he saw that look on Gern's face, alarm bells rang in his mind.
He knew this junior's "glorious achievements" all too well.
Back then, the World Government had obstructed him at every turn, adamantly refusing to grant him the rank of Admiral.
And what happened?
This man had torn open a gap by force.
He had pushed so hard that the World Government had no choice but to pinch their noses and acknowledge the existence of a "Fourth Admiral," ushering in the so-called Four Admirals Era.
Kizaru's thoughts raced further back…
And that had only been the beginning.
Using the deteriorating state of the New World as justification, Gern had forcibly driven the establishment of G-10. He secured Bullet, used him as a cornerstone, and gradually extended his influence deep into the New World.
Then he collaborated with Sengoku, triggering the infamous "Holy Land Incident"—an event Mary Geoise still resented to this day.
In the end, he had obtained the near-independent title of "Supreme Strategic Commander of the New World."
Today's G-10 was powerful and brimming with elite fighters. In that lawless sea known as the New World, its scale and influence were practically equivalent to a fully operational, heavily armed—
"New World Branch of Marine Headquarters."
Not to mention the absurd level of autonomy he possessed.
Recruitment. Finances. Even a degree of diplomacy…
Now even Fleet Admiral Sengoku had to choose his words carefully when asking Gern to handle something—sometimes even resorting to old personal ties.
At that thought, Kizaru felt a faint bitterness rise in his throat.
Gern's operating principle had always been clear:
If you don't give it to him, that's fine.
He'll take it himself.
And not in small, incremental grabs.
He takes it hard.
He takes it completely.
He takes it until you're unsettled.
Until you're forced to accept the fait accompli.
Until you start questioning who is actually setting the rules.
"This guy… he's a destroyer and reshaper of rules. Heavenly Calamity Justice is terrifying indeed."
And right now, the "curious little junior" expression on Gern's face looked eerily similar to the one he'd worn when he had once said, "I don't really want to be an Admiral," and "I don't want to go to the New World."
Humble. Casual. Almost playful.
But beneath it?
Inevitable resolve.
So when he asked about the reason behind Sengoku's early retirement…
He wasn't curious.
He was assessing.
Calculating.
Perhaps even already planning how to exploit the inevitable "incident" for greater leverage and advantage.
"Good grief…" Kizaru felt a headache blooming.
The Sabaody Archipelago was already a mess thanks to the Celestial Dragon incident and Straw Hat's interference.
Now add Golden Lion Shiki to the mix.
And Gern clearly wasn't satisfied with that chaos—his gaze had already shifted toward the impending power transition at Marineford's core.
"This time… I can't just slack my way through…"
Kizaru lamented inwardly. His fragile dream of clocking in and clocking out peacefully felt as though it were cracking apart beneath Gern's "kind" smile.
Once this man started "taking," who knew what kind of storm would erupt?
Put another way—
If Gern ever took control…
Would slacking even be possible anymore?
"Senior Borsalino, what do you think…"
At that moment, Gern casually draped an arm over Kizaru's shoulder, smiling with disarming innocence.
"Between Sakazuki and Kuzan… which one will succeed?"
The question sounded light.
It wasn't.
Every lazy muscle in Kizaru's body tensed for an instant.
He knew better than anyone—none of this man's questions were ever just questions.
"Sakazuki and Kuzan, huh…"
The lenses of Kizaru's sunglasses reflected Sabaody's fractured light and shadow, concealing his eyes.
He understood exactly what Gern was implying.
Yes, Sakazuki had often supported Gern in official matters before—even going so far as to argue fiercely against certain conservative factions at Headquarters.
And yes, Kuzan shared a good personal relationship with Gern. They drank together, debated vague philosophies of justice, and maintained a rapport.
But now…
This was the Fleet Admiral seat.
And not just any Fleet Admiral seat.
This was a position whose authority had been unprecedentedly consolidated after the "Holy Land Incident." A seat that truly held command over the Marines—and to a significant extent, real control over portions of the World Government's military power.
Unlike the timeline most believed in, where the Fleet Admiral was often constrained by the Five Elders and the World Nobles—
This position, now?
Whoever sat in it could implement their brand of justice almost without obstruction.
In many military and internal matters, the World Government would be reduced to spectators—or at most, post-facto approvers.
An Admiral who doesn't want to become Fleet Admiral isn't a good Admiral.
Except for Kizaru.
For a moment, he found himself genuinely hesitant.
He only wanted a peaceful life.
But what about the others?
Sakazuki's "Absolute Justice."
Kuzan's "Burning Justice"—or perhaps his lazy justice.
And then…
Gern's.
Heaven knew what form it took—but it was certainly not to be underestimated.
Each one required a corresponding platform of power to fully manifest.
"Still the same, you slippery eel," Gern remarked, watching Kizaru's subtle expression shifts. The smile at his lips deepened.
He had only recently come to fully understand something.
Why had Sakazuki—stubborn, unyielding, and proud—suddenly visited G-10 back then?
Why had he even offered an apology?
Perhaps Sakazuki genuinely believed he had been wrong.
But more likely—
There had been more to it.
It was only after hearing of the Fleet Admiral succession struggle that clarity dawned on Gern.
That man, who believed in eradicating evil through absolute force, had likely been laying groundwork long ago.
By suddenly supporting Gern—the "Supreme Strategic Commander of the New World."
By breaking the World Government's previous balance and constraints.
By weakening Kuzan's conservative influence.
Even by tacitly allowing G-10's independent expansion.
All of it…
Was to create the environment and timing necessary for Absolute Justice to be fully realized.
Sakazuki had been leveraging every available force—including Gern himself—to clear obstacles and pave the road to the Fleet Admiral's seat.
Gern was now certain of one thing:
After Akainu had brought his daughter Hibari to tour G-10 and returned to Headquarters—
The hardliners must have celebrated wildly.
Some may have even believed Gern was backing Sakazuki outright.
And Sakazuki?
He would never bother correcting that assumption.
"Such deep calculation… or rather, such extreme devotion to one's beliefs. None of them are simple."
Gern lightly patted Kizaru's shoulder, still smiling as if it were all a joke.
"Looks like the real show at Marineford is just beginning."
"Senior… your carefree 'neutral' days might be coming to an end."
Kizaru paused.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
He had made up his mind.
"Ah, Gern-kun~ You know I've always supported you."
"I visit G-10 all the time! It's not just to slack off, you know~"
"Is that so, Senior Borsalino?"
"Gern-kun… never underestimate the judgment of a man who's devoted to a salted-fish life."
He adjusted his sunglasses slightly, tone light—but words sharp.
"Because that judgment determines whether he'll be able to retire… in one piece."