Three days later, though his wounds were far from fully healed, Kuzan formally submitted his resignation to Marine Headquarters.
He stepped down of his own accord from the position of Admiral.
He ignored Sengoku's attempts to persuade him. Ignored Zephyr's stern warnings. Ignored even… his teacher, Garp.
There was no grand farewell. No drawn-out speech.
In silence, he handed over the Admiral's uniform—
And the coat of justice he had worn for years, the symbol of everything he once believed in.
Then, quietly… alone… he packed what little luggage he had.
One early morning, while sea fog still clung thickly to the harbor, that tall figure dragging an ice-forged leg walked forward without looking back.
And at last, it dissolved into the blurred horizon.
He left the organization to which he had devoted half his life, taking with him the final trace of gentleness and hesitation that had defined an era.
Thus—
Sakazuki remained.
Carrying victory's obsession… and its scars.
Kuzan departed.
Carrying defeat's incompleteness… and its confusion.
Their earth-shattering duel on Punk Hazard—their final, irreversible rupture—marked the true end of something far greater.
It signaled the curtain call for the era that once represented the Marines at their most glorious and overwhelming height—
The age forged by four peak powerhouses who stood at the very summit of the world:
"White Qilin" Gern Reginald Sigmar.
"Akainu" Sakazuki.
"Kizaru" Borsalino.
"Aokiji" Kuzan.
Four distinct philosophies. Four monstrous forces of nature.
The era of the Four Admirals.
And now—
It was over.
—
At the same time, within the Marines, Koby—publicly branded by Gern himself as "The Shame of the Marines"—continued to endure immense pressure and scorn.
Inside him, that twisted sense of "justice" and his desperate obsession with becoming a "hero" finally burst through the dam of rationality.
He could no longer tolerate being sidelined.
Despised.
Looked down upon.
"I'll become a hero too! I'll achieve a feat no one can rival—and wash away all this humiliation!"
Through a series of bitter struggles and fortuitous covert missions, he managed—through certain unspeakable channels—to contact two exceedingly dangerous figures.
One was "Blackbeard," Marshall D. Teach, freshly recovered from grievous injuries and eager to expand his power.
The other was the enigmatic "Surgeon of Death," Trafalgar Law, who was likewise weaving unseen schemes with unknown objectives.
Thus, a shocking conspiracy quietly took shape—
One involving a disgraced Marine, an ambitious pirate, and a shadowy strategist—
All centered on Pirate Paradise, Hachinosu… the Rocky Port.
Koby intended to leverage pirate power to orchestrate a grand spectacle of either "salvation" or "destruction."
A stage grand enough to crown him a hero.
What he failed to realize was that he himself was becoming a poisoned chess piece on someone else's board.
—
Elsewhere, riding the strange notoriety and fanatical followers he had gained during the Impel Down breakout at the Summit War, "Buggy the Clown" demonstrated astonishing luck—and even more astonishing opportunism.
After conducting a secret, undisclosed transaction (in other words, a loan) with Crocodile, he secured startup capital and officially founded "Buggy's Delivery."
With breathtaking speed, he established a massive underground logistics and mercenary network spanning vast territories.
More astonishing still—
Whether the World Government had taken interest in his unpredictable "influence," his rapidly swelling forces, or simply wished to fill the vacancy left among the Seven Warlords—
They formally invited Buggy to replace the former Warlord, "Gecko" Moria, who had "perished" in a mysterious attack not long after the Summit War.
And just like that—
Buggy became one of the new Seven Warlords of the Sea.
A former comic relief figure had transformed into a major power upon the seas.
The tides of the era lifted the most unexpected individuals to the forefront.
—
Several months later.
To Gern Reginald Sigmar, Kuzan's departure felt like dropping a coin.
It made a small sound.
Then it was over.
He allowed himself a few days of reflection before neatly packaging those sentiments and tossing them into the "Past Events Recycling Bin" in his mind.
His gaze returned to the strategic blueprint spread across his office floor—so large it dwarfed even the carpet beneath it.
There was a hotter issue at hand.
Not a hot potato.
More like volatile magma.
How exactly was he supposed to position Sakazuki—this double-edged blade who had just finished "intimate exchanges" with a colleague, now wrapped in bandages like a mummy and still smelling faintly of gunpowder?
Especially since his brilliant plan of "painting Akainu a glorious future and sending him to guard the front gate of the first half of the Grand Line" needed to move forward.
If he delayed any longer, the metaphorical pie he'd baked might spoil.
He couldn't keep rotating Vice Admirals there like duty students forever.
So, one afternoon a few days later, Gern strolled into Sakazuki's temporary office at G-1.
The moment he stepped inside—
The smell of cigar smoke and medicinal ointment hit him head-on.
Sakazuki sat behind his desk, wrapped in bandages, expression as rigid as cooled magma.
And yet his eyes still burned with the stubborn light of someone who believed, "I can still take on ten more Kuzans."
More than that, however, was unmistakable dissatisfaction.
He hadn't truly intended to kill Kuzan.
But when Gern arrived at Punk Hazard, he hadn't even given him a chance to speak.
Oh, how impressive.
Descending from the sky without warning—
Opening immediately with "Heavenquake: Eight-Extreme Jade"—
Then chaining together a relentless combo without explanation, beating him so thoroughly he didn't even have the opportunity to say "no."
And that business with absorbing Kuzan's injuries?
He'd been dragged straight from his hospital bed by Gern for that.
"Since he's leaving anyway, give him a good final impression."
What kind of nonsense was that?
Yes, Kuzan had left.
But was that an excuse?!
Faced with Sakazuki's simmering glare, Gern cleared his throat slightly, feeling a flicker of awkwardness.
Without wasting time on pleasantries, he cut straight to the point.
He deliberately positioned himself by the window, back turned to Sakazuki, gazing out at the construction of the new Headquarters blazing with activity.
"Sakazuki. Kuzan has left."
"Hmph." Sakazuki snorted coldly. "A man lost in confusion can't carry out justice. Leaving was the right choice."
Gern pressed his lips together briefly, then turned around and said directly:
"I need you, Sakazuki."
"Hmph. I'm not going."
The reply came instantly.
Of course not.
He'd nearly gambled his life away fighting Kuzan. Now he was supposed to leave the center of power?
Not happening.
"I know you won't," Gern said with a knowing look.
Then he suddenly lowered his voice, as if sharing a top-secret Marine revelation.
"But do you think your fight with Kuzan was the end of it? No."
"That was just the warm-up."
"…Warm-up?"
"Sakazuki, your battle didn't end internal Marine conflict. It only changed its form."
Sakazuki fell silent, signaling him to continue.
"Have you considered what happens when Headquarters fully relocates to the New World?"
"When all elite forces and global attention are focused there?"
"What becomes of the first half of the Grand Line—the 'Paradise' that connects the Four Seas and births countless pirates?"
He paused, then simplified bluntly:
"It becomes a pirate kindergarten. And a villain incubator."
"That's exagger—"
Sakazuki began to interject, but Gern didn't need his reply.
He painted the grim picture himself.
"Without the main force of Marine deterrence, pirates will breed and expand at unprecedented speed!"
"They'll believe we've abandoned the region. They'll raid trade routes without restraint. Slaughter civilians. Turn those waters into a lawless hell!"
"The fresh blood pouring in from the Four Seas will pass through unimpeded—flowing endlessly into the New World, becoming even stronger enemies for us in the future!"
He appealed to reason.
To responsibility.
He laid bare the strategic importance—and the lurking threat—of the Grand Line's first half.
"While we're up front fighting the Four Emperors to the death, they'll be stabbing us in the back! Does that make sense?!"
The more he spoke, the more impassioned he became.
He suddenly strode forward, slammed both palms onto Sakazuki's desk with a sharp crack, leaning in close.
His eyes were sincere.
"Sakazuki, I need a man like you right now."
"A man with justice as scorching as magma. With unyielding will. With absolute power."
"A man who terrifies pirates so badly they'd rather jump into the sea than face him."
"Station yourself at the former site of Marineford—rebuild it as the new G-2 Branch!"
"Reestablish iron order!"
"Use your Absolute Justice to purge that rotting 'Paradise'!!"
...
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