The offensive operation, led by the Marines' finest—a force of a scale rarely seen in naval history—had ended in failure.
One cause of defeat was undoubtedly the decision to limit their forces. They were facing an opponent that, under normal circumstances, would have required a grand fleet to even consider engaging in a decisive battle. Instead, with the World Government insisting on the need for stealth, they were forced to fight with a force merely equivalent to a semi-Buster Call.
Deep down, every soldier who knew of the Black Cat had a feeling it would end this way.
"I can't believe it... Both Admirals were defeated."
"It really was the 'Black Cats' after all. Even without their captain... Ah, damn it all."
After recovering as many of the wounded as their remaining ships could carry, the battered Marine fleet managed to withdraw. Their escape was largely thanks to the pirates, who, upon defeating the two Admirals, shifted their focus from attacking to rescuing their own wounded. Still, they had managed to flee the jaws of death.
Their original plan was to use Mogwa as a base of operations after the battle, but all contact with the detachment sent to secure the island had been lost. They had likely been sunk by the fleet of Marine deserters who, like Commodore Taki, had sided with the "Black Cats."
This meant that Mogwa was now completely under the "Black Cats'" control. The local population already trusted them due to their past activities, and the pirates themselves were more than experienced in matters of governance. Even if the World Government attempted to send in agents, it would be no easy task to undermine them.
"...Knew this would happen... but still... The morale is the worst I've ever seen..."
With Mogwa lost, their options for a safe harbor were limited. Their only choice was the base they had used to launch their attack on the Black Cats. It was the closest location and the only place where they could quickly tend to their surviving soldiers. It was a fortress, a small island that was, in its entirety, a Marine base.
By the time they reached its port and finally felt they were in a safe zone, darkness had completely fallen.
"Not even a welcoming party... The nerve of those bastards."
The personnel left at the base were primarily reinforcements from the World Government. They had demanded to be placed on the front lines against the Black Cats, but from the Marines' perspective, they were just a bunch of amateurs who didn't know the first thing about fighting. Thus, they had been assigned to guard duty as much as possible.
Regardless, the first order of business was to reassess their losses. After that, they had to give the soldiers medical attention and rest.
They stepped onto the naval port. Bonfires had been lit to illuminate the encroaching darkness. Akainu, whose wounds were relatively light compared to the heavily injured Zephyr, took command with a click of his tongue.
"Hurry up and get the wounded inside! Let them rest!"
"Sir! But... Admiral, you should get treatment immediately as well."
"I can wait."
"...Yes, sir."
A Marine officer who had served as Sakazuki's aide since his time as a Vice Admiral saluted and turned to leave, shouting orders to the nearby soldiers.
(A battle where we did nothing but lose.)
They had gained nothing. In the West Blue, they had lost an unpredictable but reliable ally. They had lost soldiers, lost the Government's reinforcements, and the Marines' reputation was in tatters after the defeat of two Admirals. To top it all off, a large number of their own men had defected to the pirates.
(If there was any silver lining, it was that the casualties among our Marines were relatively low, while the Government's supplementary forces... were significantly culled...)
The eight special Vice Admirals who had acted as overseers, bossing around every soldier despite their late arrival, had all been killed by the Marine Hunters and Royal Guard members during the pursuit. The forces under their command had been scattered, and the few who survived had lost all will to fight. The World Government's influence within the Marine ranks had taken a serious blow. They would undoubtedly try to regain their power, but it would take a considerable amount of time.
(Depending on what happened to that man in the New World, we might get orders to attack again... but how much strength can we even commit...)
Ordinarily, they had no business being bogged down in the West Blue, a sea that had been relatively peaceful—ironically, thanks to the Black Cats. The moment Kuro, who had been managing the collection of materials and food for the Holy Land's reconstruction with careful consideration for each nation's influence and situation, was gone, the Celestial Dragons began hoarding supplies indiscriminately. The Marines were forced to divert a large number of troops to act as their escorts, which in turn led to a spike in pirate activity and escalating damages across the seas. The Marines who should have been dealing with these threats were already stretched thin.
They were short-staffed in every sea. And yet, the Government had forced them to dispatch so much of their strength against an enemy whose threat level was, in the grand scheme of things, extremely low, only to have it all wasted for nothing.
"...If he ever returns to the West Blue... that crew might truly become unstoppable."
It was a sentiment a Marine Admiral should never utter. But he had to admit it. After all, a single strategy left behind before he departed for the Holy Land had been enough to bring them to this state.
The pirate, "Kuro of a Hundred Plans." No, that was his old name. Now he was—"He of a Thousand Visions and Ten Thousand Plans."
One who sees a thousand possibilities and meets them with ten thousand stratagems. At only fourteen years of age, he was already one of the world's greatest military minds. He was the pirate the Marines would have to be most wary of from now on.
(To crush them, it truly had to be now. While the soldiers and the brain are separated... but...)
The soldiers were organizing the supplies left at the base. An enemy pursuit was a real possibility. In addition to their personal arms, they had to load the ships with cannonballs.
"...Huh?"
One of the soldiers lifted a crate of cannonballs and tilted his head.
"Hey, this is..."
"Yeah."
"Doesn't it feel a little... light?"
The moment those words reached his ears, a bad feeling—no, a chilling premonition—ran down Sakazuki's spine.
"You there."
"S-Sir!"
"Our apologies, Admiral! We'll get this loaded right away!"
"No. I want you to check the contents of that box."
"Sir, at once!"
Admiral Akainu. Famous for his ruthless nature, his order sent the soldiers scrambling. They set the box down, gave a quick salute, and immediately pried open the lid.
Inside, it was packed to the brim with cannonballs. Sakazuki picked one up. It gleamed darkly, even under the red glow of the bonfires.
"—So that's... how it is!"
His hand began to glow red-hot. The heat from his ability washed over the soldiers several steps away. One of them, thinking it was about to explode, reflexively tried to back away and fell over in a panic.
But the cannonball, subjected to heat that could melt anything, didn't explode. It burned... and melted.
"MADE OF WAX?! EVERYONE, CHECK ALL SUPPLIES IN THIS BASE! NOW!"
Sakazuki's enraged roar spurred the startled soldiers into a frenzy. They ran around, inspecting every last crate and barrel.
"Medical supplies are fine, sir! They're all real!"
"The cannonballs, bullets, and gunpowder are all fakes made of wax!"
"Someone get over here! We've got soldiers in the fourth warehouse, tied up and covered in wax!"
"The food, too! More than half of it is just colored wax!"
"Damn it all, from the metal goods to the spare parts... even the contents of the document shelves have been carefully replaced with fakes! Even the Transponder Snails!"
The reports flew in one after another, revealing a single, horrifying truth to every soldier and officer present.
While they were fighting for their lives in the waters near Mopuchi, this base had been taken. Despite facing what should have been a decisive battle, the Black Cats had somehow deployed a separate unit and captured their rear base.
(...Wait, why go to the trouble of creating fakes...?)
The fact that the base had been captured, while not good, wasn't unbelievable. He knew firsthand how formidable the enemy's soldiers were. They had poured the majority of this base's manpower into the battle against the Black Cats. If even a moderate number of enemy soldiers, led by two or three members of the Royal Guard, had attacked, the base wouldn't have stood a chance.
But why create such elaborate fakes? The base was empty, but the deception was so perfect that at a glance, no one could tell it had been compromised. And so, the Marines had all docked their ships and disembarked—
"...! DAMN IT! EVERYONE, GET AWAY FROM THE SHIPS!"
The instant Akainu screamed, the warships they had just moored began to list at once.
Countless large holes had been drilled into their hulls, plugged with wax that had now melted away. A time-delayed trap, using lit fuses and fire, had activated with perfect timing. Seawater rushed into the hulls in an instant, and the warships—the very ships they were meant to use for a counterattack—all began to sink. The masts, also rigged with wax, were engulfed in strategically placed flames and went up in a blaze.
As for their remaining warships—the ones already battered from the previous battle—
—suddenly, blades of sand flew in from a distance, slicing every last one of them apart.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇
"Heh heh heh. Well now, that went off without a hitch."
Having completed his crucial role of neutralizing the last of the ships, Capone Bege, an ally of the "Black Cats," confirmed the results through his spyglass. He laughed with satisfaction and let out a puff of purple smoke from his cigar.
"I gotta say, having those Marines switch sides was a huge help. Let us pour a ton more forces over here, y'know?"
"Yeah, they had way more supplies stockpiled than we expected. Capturing the base was one thing, but buying us time to load everything up and set up the fakes was a game-changer," Galdino replied.
As the special assault unit of the First Division, this elite team specialized in covert operations. Bege, who served as their transport and was tasked with sinking the ships for the finale, and Galdino, who handled the deception, couldn't stop laughing as they looked at the mountain of confiscated supplies.
"I really wanted to take at least half of the medical supplies, though..."
"They started this fight, so we're gonna hit back with everything we've got. But leaving them that shows we ain't interested in a senseless slaughter. We even left 'em a fair bit of food," Galdino said.
"Just enough to last until a rescue ship is likely to arrive. Their morale will plummet day by day, and if squabbles and fights break out between the Government soldiers and the Marines, I won't be complaining..." Bege mused.
"Well, if the guys who need medical attention survive, there'll be more mouths to feed. If someone makes a fuss about that..."
"FUHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
"HEHHEHEHEHEHE!!!"
"You two really have the most wicked laughs. Not quite on Captain Kuro's level, though," Sandersonia sighed, looking at the two of them.
"Nyuu~... I knew it, but you guys really are pirates, huh? I was starting to think of your men as just regulars at my food stall, Mr. Bege."
The speaker was Hachi, the octopus fish-man. He had served as a key communications officer for the Fish-Man Pioneer Group, which had been tasked with surveillance—monitoring the movements of the remaining Marine fleet and rapidly sharing intelligence.
"Yo, Hachi. You and the other fish-men did great work on lookout and escorting the transport ships. Thanks to you, our timing was perfect," Bege said. "...Although, the unexpected addition to their forces did throw a wrench in the plan."
"Yeah, about that... We never even had to fire a single one of the long-range cannons we loaded into your castle, Bege," Sandersonia added.
"And that water cannon we prepped just in case we had to fight Akainu? We just ended up using it to drain some water," Bege lamented.
"Kuhahaha, it means we saved on gunpowder and cannonballs. You should be happy about that."
As the senior officers and Royal Guard members wore mixed expressions, a sandstorm began to swirl beside them. It was a phenomenon that should never occur in the West Blue, far from the Grand Line. When it subsided, a single pirate stood in its place.
"Crocodile. I never thought we'd see the 'King of the Desert' from the Grand Line all the way out here," Bege said.
"Before we set sail, Robin suggested we let you escape. Is this your way of repaying the favor?" Sandersonia asked.
"Don't be a fool. Piracy is a business. I wouldn't do something so pointless," he replied.
The infamous pirate who had recently attacked Canette in pursuit of Nico Robin. The man who had been defeated by Dracule Mihawk and the Royal Guard, then imprisoned in Mopuchi, now stood there, smoking a cigar just like Bege, and gazed at the Marine base, now completely stripped of its usable ships.
"So you win a tactical victory, then trap them in their retreat point after emptying it out, eh?"
The island was already a small dot on the horizon, and there was no sign of pursuit. It was safe to say their containment strategy was a perfect success.
"Once Mogwa fell, the Marines had limited places to run. Just as the captain said, distance is everything in naval warfare. They had to choose the shortest, most optimal route based on their supplies, ammo, and the condition of their wounded," Sandersonia explained.
"Captain Kuro's original plan already accounted for their cargo capacity and the state of the nearby member nations. This whole area was hit hard by the Alliance, so supplies and personnel are limited. The plan said that once we defeated them, they'd have very few places to flee," her sister added.
"Heh heh, the enemy had fewer numbers than we expected and they were all scattered. I was worried they might disperse all over the place, but... well, I'm glad it all fell perfectly into place," Bege said with relief.
Crocodile watched the Black Cat Pirates and their gangster allies as they spoke, relieved that their operation had ended successfully. His own expression was unreadable.
"Even if they manage to call for help immediately, it'll take quite some time."
"That's right... At least ten days, I'd say. With two Admirals stranded, Headquarters will rush to retrieve them, but the delay is inevitable."
"As their supplies dwindle day by day, the soldiers' spirits will be ground down to nothing. By the time the food becomes critically scarce, a riot wouldn't be out of the question... is that the idea?"
"...Captain Kuro's prediction was that only Akainu was likely to come... With Zephyr there as well, things might not get that chaotic."
"Even so, fear and discontent will fester. After being mentally broken, what stories will these defeated soldiers spread to their comrades when they're finally rescued...? Heh heh heh. That Kuro... what a vicious bastard, leaving behind a plan like this!"
Every pirate, every gangster wore a look of relief. But what Crocodile found more striking was that from the very beginning, even as they lay in wait for the enemy, he had seen almost no sign of distrust or anxiety among them.
(...The Black Cats, huh?)
"So, Mr. Crocodile. Is what you said back on Mogwa true?" Bege asked.
"Yes. For a time, I will forget about Nico Robin—and lend you my strength."
"In return, you will let me meet him."
"To the brilliant captain you're all so proud of—the one who drew up this entire masterpiece."
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇
In the New World, in the waters of the former Palmieri Island, the battle raged on.
"Yata no—"
"I won't let you move. Stay put!"
Despite wielding attacks that were, quite literally, as fast as light, the pirate managed to seal every single one of his techniques. Reading Kizaru's attempt to create distance and regroup, the pirate landed a Haki-infused kick just before the Admiral could activate his ability, disrupting it. The sharp, if not full-powered, kick struck Kizaru squarely in the shoulder. Kizaru was a veteran warrior; he naturally used Haki to defend himself. But—
(It's getting harder and harder... to even dodge him now...)
Several times since the fight moved to this deck, the pirate had unleashed some truly dangerous blows. He had managed to maintain a stalemate by dodging them and re-establishing his distance, but with every passing second, his attacks—no, his predictions—were growing sharper.
"Why don't you surrender now~? A man of your caliber... I'm sure the higher-ups would agree that having you work for the military would be more beneficial than sending you to prison, you know?"
"The military might think so, but the Government doesn't! That's why this idiotic battle, which does nothing but harm and offers not a single benefit, started in the first place!"
The retort was so sound he couldn't argue. He was right. There was no benefit to this. Originally, this pirate was someone with whom they had managed to build a decent, if highly unusual, relationship.
"The Black Cats will win this fight! I've left behind countermeasures for every contingency, and our preparations are flawless!"
Even without his usual weapons, the pirate's combat prowess hadn't diminished in the slightest. On the contrary, he seemed to be evolving, using this very battle as fuel for his growth.
"But casualties are unavoidable! Our soldiers and your Marines alike!"
He was right. People were dying. People who didn't need to die.
"How could we possibly trust a government that forces an Admiral to participate in such a pointless conflict, without even telling them the reason why?!"
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇
Seriously, why the hell did they start this stupid war?!
I get that our side, the Marines, and the World Government all use different yardsticks to measure things, but there has to be a limit! They make one half-assed move after another! If you're going to deploy an Admiral for something like this, you might as well send him to tour the nations and keep Shiki in check, since he's so obviously planning his next move! Once you reach the level of a top-tier power, your face becomes a better weapon than your strength! Especially for a ridiculously huge organization like the World Government!
"You really... have a knack for saying things that are hard to hear...!"
"It's not your fault. It's the fault of this bizarre organizational structure."
I saw Kizaru's kick coming. The moment I blocked it with a Haki-infused kick of my own, I saw the possibility of him pointing his index finger at me. I knew the laser was coming. I knew it, but my dodge was a few milliseconds too late again.
With a high-pitched, almost anticlimactic pew, my skin was slightly seared. I wasn't taking any fatal wounds, but I was covered in scrapes, my stamina slowly being chipped away.
...Well, compared to those insane training days, this is still manageable. It's only one opponent, after all. If Sakazuki or Kuzan had been here too, things might have gotten really bad.
"If the World Government accepts its own distorted nature and aims for a world of endless consumption rather than progress, then—!"
But aside from that one kick I landed squarely in his wide-open gut, I haven't been able to land a decisive blow. Something... something is missing. Or perhaps, something is in the way.
(But the pieces I need to take the next step should almost all be here...)
The reintegration of my consciously divided thoughts and senses. The parallel processing of reflexes and thoughts. On top of that, I'm adding future sight from Haki, running in parallel. I should be close to the complete form. Before, I could only see a vague future a few seconds ahead, but now I can see several dozen seconds, along with multiple possibilities. I can even faintly see the branching points—sometimes.
But for a while now, there's been static at the most crucial moments. And that mysterious drumbeat needs to calm down a little.
"I'll say it again: I'm breaking through! Admiral Kizaru!"
"...You're truly terrifying... Black Cat pirate."
The blurriness gets worse right when I need clarity the most. I have a vague idea why. It's a matter of confidence. Thanks to my training with Mihawk and Rayleigh, I've gained enough confidence to know I'm not half-bad in a normal fight. But now that I'm stepping into uncharted territory, my innate cowardice is slowly creeping back.
(Damn it, now that I think about it, even back in my student days, before Haki was even a thing... the really capable guys always had this... presence about them...)
They were full of confidence, strong-willed, and had the power to push their own opinions. From my perspective, I always wondered how they could believe in their own ideas so completely...
(—Ah.)
I was never good with conflict, so I always had a hard time dealing with the top-tier students who could go all-out in a debate—or rather, a shouting match. I used to wonder what the source of their confidence was—
(I see. So that's it. That's what it is.)
I thought it might be fear, so I tried reintegrating my senses after detaching my emotions, but it didn't work. In fact, my reaction time slowed, and I took a relatively heavy hit. I thought something was getting in the way of the integration, so I tried intentionally removing certain thoughts and senses before combining them, but it just wouldn't click.
Of course. It was so obvious. It wasn't that there was something extra.
It was that something was missing.
The power to believe in myself. Courage. I thought that for a born coward like me, such shining things could only be obtained through relentless, desperate training...
"I finally understand."
Into the space between the gears that wouldn't quite mesh, I pour it. Not trying to change the number of gears, but adding what's needed to make them engage.
I take a step. And another, completely unguarded.
"—! Yata no Kagami!"
Kizaru uses his technique to create a massive distance, reappearing high above the deck. The other soldiers have already evacuated.
I can see the future. A storm of lasers focused on a narrow area. To dodge, I need to move now, and move big.
But—
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
I can see... everything.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
The pirate had clearly shown a major opening. I instinctively used my ability to gain distance and rained down a torrent of my finishing light bullets. This was it. If I didn't kill him here and now, he would become unstoppable.
—And yet.
The shower of light bullets, which I had unleashed with enough force to destroy the ship itself, poured down onto the deck. I had expected the pirate to make a big move to dodge.
"Ah, so what I was missing was..."
But he didn't. The pirate began to walk, as if nothing were happening.
"The spirit to believe in oneself implicitly, the spirit to be a martyr to oneself, the spirit to see oneself through to the end, and—the blind faith to feign ignorance, to efficiently look away and push forward—"
He was just walking, casually, through a deadly rain that could pierce through the sturdy deck.
(Im... possible...?)
The light bullets—they weren't hitting. He was evading every single one with the most minimal of movements.
"Those things are obviously poison in large doses. So just a little... a proper amount, a teaspoon's worth—ah, that's right."
Not a single shot, not even a graze, landed on him. As my storm of light bullets began to subside, the pirate, who had read it all perfectly without even using his signature "Stealth Foot," looked up at me with a blank expression.
"What I was still missing... was a touch of madness."
On reflex, I unleashed the same technique again. The sheer audacity of the pirate, who still made no attempt to dodge, made me want to click my tongue in frustration.
"If you're going to get this strong this fast, you'll leave no room for the rest of us!"
I used my ability, changing all the light bullets I had fired into clones of myself. It was a diversionary tactic that had brought down many powerful foes. I blended in with one of the clones approaching the still-unflinching pirate, aiming for his neck.
(Ama no Murakumo!)
I made all the clones, including myself, hold a sword in the same posture. First, I would hit him with the clones, which were just light bullets themselves, to throw him off.
(And then—!)
The moment I put strength into the hand holding my sword of light—
"Too bad for you..."
—something lukewarm touched my throat.
"I saw that a moment ago."
It was a shoe. A simple, hard leather shoe. Except this one, imbued with Haki, had hooked around my neck—
—and with a speed that could only be described as that of light itself, I was slammed into the deck.
"Gah...?! ...hk...?!"
The air was forced from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. But if I didn't get up, another attack would come...! The man who should have been in front of me was now, somehow, standing behind me!
I forced my body up from the deck and leaped backward. Then, using my ability, I tried to create more distance. It was an instinct born from years of experience.
—And that was my fatal mistake.
I heard the sound of flesh being torn. From my own body.
"If it's a given that nothing can catch up to light..."
Fresh blood sprayed out, dyeing everything red. My clothes. My coat of Justice.
"...then all I have to do is move first."
"—Gah... ah...?!?"
I didn't know what had happened. At the moment I dodged, the pirate hadn't moved an inch. Forcing Haki through my lacerated body, I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what it was that had cut me.
(This—is...?! Slashes... are just hanging in mid-air...?!)
"My apologies, Kizaru."
The space itself seemed to warp slightly, viewed through the net-like web of slashes, perhaps due to the Haki infused within them.
"I'll be moving on ahead."
I could see it. An unbelievable pressure of Haki was being poured into the pirate's right foot. It was visibly black, with sparks of lightning-like energy crackling from his leg.
"Conqueror's Haki!"
—Apocrypha...
"You really are! You're the one who—!!"
—IKOKU!!!
The "Black Cat's" powerful kick shot towards the center of the web of slashes that had torn me apart. Gathering all the intersecting slashes into a single point, that one devastating blow from his right foot closed in on me—
And there, the consciousness of Admiral Kizaru—Borsalino—faded to black.
***
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