Just as Topman Warcury congratulated himself on reacting swiftly—believing he had stabilized the situation with calculated finesse, believing the carefully crafted "empty title" had neatly resolved the crisis—
He turned instinctively to observe Gern's reaction.
What met his eyes was the same smile.
Unchanged.
Blatant.
There was no anger at being maneuvered. No resentment at being subtly confined.
Only the calm amusement of a man watching a clown perform.
Beside him, Shepherd Ju Peter's expression had already grown extremely grim.
Lowering his voice, he hissed through clenched teeth:
"Warcury! He forced you to step out. He wanted you to reveal the second move!"
"Forced us?" Warcury clearly did not believe it. If anything, he thought Ju Peter was overreacting. "In this situation, we've provided a reasonable arrangement. We've blocked his path, given him face and substance—albeit nominal. What can he possibly do now? Refuse the promotion?"
In Warcury's mind, this was the optimal resolution after placing Gern over the flames of public expectation.
There was no path left to him but acceptance.
Especially under global broadcast. The World Government could not retract its declaration, and Gern could not publicly reject advancement.
After all, the Marines and the World Government had not yet reached open rupture.
He refused to believe Gern could counter this.
But Gern forced him to.
The moment Warcury finished speaking—
Gern moved again.
The unsettling smile faded, replaced by solemn gravity.
He stepped forward, eyes sharp as drawn steel, sweeping the entire audience before settling squarely on Warcury.
"I thank the World Government for its trust—and for this promotion."
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku's continued tenure is the foundation of stability. I have no objections and fully support it."
"As for the position of 'Grand Commodore,' I understand the weight of this responsibility. I shall give my all to guard the gates of the New World for the World Government."
A pause.
Then his tone shifted.
"However, since the World Government has granted me the authority to 'oversee all Marine bases within the New World,' and to 'conduct unlimited-scale special military operations against the Four Emperors'—"
His voice rose.
"—then to ensure this strategy may be executed without obstruction… to prevent logistical or personnel constraints from delaying battle and staining Justice itself…"
"I, Gern Reginald Sigmar, in the name of Grand Commodore, formally request—"
"Effective immediately, all budgets and material allocation for every Marine base in the New World—"
"And all personnel appointments, dismissals, and transfers at the rank of Vice Admiral and below—"
"Shall fall entirely under the unified command and coordination of G-10."
"This is not excess. It is the necessary foundation for the exercise of my authority—and for the defense of Justice."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Well? Is there a problem?"
He looked directly at Warcury.
"Warrior God of Justice, Topman Warcury."
Warcury felt the tension Ju Peter's warning had sparked dissolve.
Gern had accepted the title.
And the requests? They were simply formal recognition of powers he already effectively exercised—powers the World Government had previously refused to officially acknowledge.
A faint smugness flickered within Warcury.
"I agree. Within the New World, full authority shall be yours."
"This is the World Government's promise."
"Witnessed by the entire world."
"Well said!"
For the first time, Gern seemed genuinely pleased by something the World Government declared.
And that was the moment.
When the World Government believed he had been tamed by honor and gilded office—when, before the entire world, they had affirmed his authority without reservation—
Gern finally bared his true fangs.
The curve of his lips widened into something openly predatory.
He abandoned the minutiae of administrative power.
Instead, he turned once more to the live broadcast.
With the freshly "recognized" title of Grand Commodore, he dropped the true bomb.
"Since the World Government and Headquarters have entrusted me with such responsibility…"
"Then, as the newly appointed Grand Commodore of the New World, I hereby formally propose a strategic initiative—"
"To relocate Marine Headquarters to the New World, in order to confront the Four Emperors' balance of power directly."
The words struck like a thunderclap.
The plaza fell silent.
Across the seas, millions stared in disbelief.
Wait.
Didn't you just agree that Fleet Admiral Sengoku would remain in position?
And now you want to move his headquarters into your territory?
Didn't you just demand full authority over the New World—
And now you're proposing to build the new Marineford there?
And haven't you already swallowed up Whitebeard's former territory whole?!
What "threat" from the remaining Emperors are you talking about?
This was a thief crying thief.
Gern did not give anyone time to digest the shock.
His reasoning flowed rapidly, logically—personal ambition wrapped perfectly in collective necessity.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Summit War proved that the end of the old era ushers in a far more brutal struggle for supremacy!"
"Kaido. Big Mom. Even Red-Haired Shanks. They will ravenously devour the power vacuum Whitebeard left behind!"
"If the Navy remains entrenched in the so-called 'Paradise'—the first half of the Grand Line—we will lose all control and deterrence over the New World!"
"The destruction of Marineford will not be the last—such devastation will repeat itself endlessly if we do not seize the initiative!"
"Only by placing our strongest forces on the front line can we maintain constant strategic pressure!"
"Relocating Headquarters to the New World sends one unmistakable message—"
"The Navy is the true sovereign of these seas!"
A beat.
"And most importantly—this fully aligns with the World Government's own directive to prepare for retaliatory action from the Four Emperors!"
"I am merely obeying orders."
He pressed on.
"Marineford lies in ruins. Reconstruction would demand immense resources, and its location is no longer strategically optimal."
"Why not invest those resources where they matter most?"
"With the powerful foundation already established at G-10—with its existing systems, infrastructure, and command network—we can ensure efficient, secure reconstruction under full Marine—and World Government—control."
Then—
Without allowing the Five Elders space to respond—
He shifted again, binding the collective.
Turning to the assembled Marine officers below.
"Comrades!"
"Think of those who fell in this war! Think of their blood!"
"Shall we allow the next generation of Marines to grow complacent in 'Paradise,' watching pirates dominate the New World—only to pay later with even more lives to close the widening gap?"
"Justice is not passive defense!"
"It is proactive offense!"
"It is strangling threats in the cradle!"
"It is pushing the battlefield to the enemy's doorstep!"
"Just as I declared when I was a rising star in the West Blue—"
"Justice delayed is justice denied!"
"So—"
"Justice must not be late!"
The declaration rang like cannon fire.
Then he pivoted toward Sengoku, voice earnest.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku! I ask you to oversee the new Headquarters!"
"With you commanding the broader strategy in the New World, I can fight at the front without hesitation!"
"The Navy will have its pillar!"
"And we can confront the Four Emperors without fear!"
His speech welded together Marine honor, grief, vengeance, and hope—binding them inseparably to his relocation proposal.
Sengoku blinked.
For a moment, he almost forgot who the supposed "tactician" was.
That move—retreating to advance, reshaping the entire strategic framework—was masterful.
But Sengoku recovered quickly.
Before the entire world, he invoked the authority Gern had just publicly affirmed.
"Grand Commodore Gern speaks with clarity and foresight."
"For the future of the Navy—for the fulfillment of Justice—"
"I approve this strategic proposal."
Fleet Admiral and Grand Commodore.
Lawful authority and frontline power.
Together, backed by the implicit will of the entire Navy.
On the global stage built by the World Government—
Using the very title they had bestowed—
Gern executed the ultimate political assault.
He accepted the "empty office."
Then immediately defined, solidified, and absolutized its implied power.
He was not requesting.
He was demanding.
The title they had given him became his spear—
And he thrust it directly into the chains meant to restrain him.
You gave me legitimacy?
Fine.
I will use it to seize real authority.
He had never cared about hollow rank.
Not even the Fleet Admiral's chair.
What he wanted—
Was to move the entire command center of the Navy onto the foundation he had built over years of blood and strategy.
This—
This was the true objective of Gern Reginald Sigmar.
"You…!"
Warcury's mouth hung open.
He finally understood Ju Peter's warning.
Gern had anticipated the second move from the very beginning.
And prepared a counterstrike far more devastating.
He had shattered their attempt to elevate and contain him—
And now was climbing the ladder they handed him to tear off the roof itself.
In that moment—
The pressure shifted.
It was now the World Government that stood at the edge of the blade.