"..."
As Hawk listened to Kuzan, memories and intelligence files flashed across his mind, all centering on a single name.
Nico Robin. Twenty-seven years old. Known as the Devil's Child. The World Government had placed a bounty of seventy-nine million berries on her head when she was just eight years old.
She was the sole survivor of Ohara, the island of scholars, and the only living person capable of deciphering the Poneglyphs.
At present, she served as vice president of Baroque Works under the Warlord Crocodile, operating under the codename Miss All Sunday.
"Hawk, her name is Nico Robin."
Kuzan's calm voice pulled him back to the present. "She was first wanted at only eight years old, with a bounty of seventy-nine million."
"At the time, I thought perhaps the seed Saul died to protect might one day bear fruit…"
"But I've changed my mind. What I want to see now… is how you will deal with her. Or perhaps, what kind of person she might become under your command."
"..."
"Brother Kuzan," Hawk said evenly, "she is a wanted criminal of the World Government."
The point cut to the heart of the matter.
If Robin were to be brought into the Navy, her status as a wanted fugitive would have to be erased.
"Do you think the World Government would consider one of their most driven admirals less important than the Devil's Child?" Kuzan shrugged. "Leave that to me. I'll personally vouch for her before the Gorosei."
"..."
Hawk immediately understood.
Kuzan wasn't being casual. He had already decided. If he was willing to face the Five Elders themselves, then it was clear he genuinely wanted Robin entrusted to Hawk at G-3.
But…
This felt familiar. Far too familiar.
Wasn't this exactly the same routine Akainu had pulled when he shoved his daughter Yunque into Hawk's care? And Vice Admiral Tsuru with her granddaughter Peacock?
Why were all the Navy top brass treating him like a dumping ground for their "special cases"?
His thoughts spiraled.
Akainu had sent him his daughter, Yunque.
Tsuru had pushed her granddaughter, Peacock.
Now Kuzan was trying to hand over Robin, the Devil's Child and survivor of Ohara.
What next? Would his second uncle, Admiral Kizaru, drop off Sentomaru, the so-called "man with the tightest lips in the world"?
And if Corazon hadn't died, would Sengoku himself have shoved him into Hawk's command too?
And old man Garp? Would he dump that crybaby deserter Koby on him?
If that really happened… knowing his own temper, Hawk would probably blast Koby's head off in one punch.
"You, lecturing a scarred and bloodied admiral? Try it."
"Hawk."
Kuzan's voice snapped him out of the tirade in his head. "From my years of observation, Robin knows what to say and what not to say. If you take her in, I'll personally warn her about the consequences."
"Understood." Hawk nodded.
Robin's childhood had been one of endless tragedy. That pain had forged her into someone far less naive than the scholars of Ohara.
Those scholars, without a shred of protection, had dared not only to touch the forbidden history but to openly provoke the World Government. In a world ruled by force, weakness itself was a crime.
Better to take a page from Dr. Vegapunk's book.
Even under Saint Saturn's watchful eye, Vegapunk researched the void century in secret. And when discovery became inevitable, he had already prepared his escape and fallback plan.
That was true brilliance.
"Alright then, Brother Kuzan," Hawk said, tucking the box containing both the red eyepatch and the golden Den Den Mushi under his arm. "I'll take responsibility for Robin."
Kuzan's face eased into a smile. "Good. Then I leave it in your hands. Now, shall we eat?"
"Sure."
The two walked side by side toward the mess hall, the morning light falling across Marineford.
Meanwhile, inside the Fleet Admiral's office, another storm was brewing.
"Tsuru!"
Sengoku's roar rattled the windows. "What nonsense are you up to now?!"
Opposite him, Tsuru calmly sipped her tea, unbothered by the thunder in his voice.
A brand-new warship had already been a special approval beyond precedent. And now she was pushing for one and a half times the normal military budget… and three large-scale warships… all for Hawk's G-3 Branch?
If Sengoku agreed, what would the other divisions think?
"Tsuru, do you think your granddaughter's future is worth all this trouble?" he demanded.
"..."
Sengoku nearly choked. "That's not the point! With all eyes on Marineford, what will the other commanders think of G-3? Of Hawk? Of me, their Fleet Admiral?"
"Hmm? If they have doubts, let them come to me," Tsuru replied, setting her teacup down. Her eyes gleamed sharp as blades. "I wouldn't mind cleansing their hearts personally."
Sengoku pinched the bridge of his nose. This was torture.
She made the promises, she played the generous benefactor, she earned Hawk's gratitude while he was the one forced to grovel before the Gorosei for more budget.
Him. Sengoku the Buddha, once feared across the seas!
"By the way," Tsuru added with a sly smile, "Hawk paid a visit to Burning Mountain yesterday."
"I happened to meet Burning Mountain afterward at dinner. Do you know what Hawk told him?"
Sengoku frowned. "What?"
"He said the balance of the Four Emperors is nothing but an illusion, like a powder keg ready to explode. Whitebeard's failing health is the greatest variable of all."
She repeated Hawk's analysis of the pirate era his cold, sharp dissection of the power balance across the seas.
"..."
"..."
Silence hung heavy in the Fleet Admiral's office.
Sengoku's expression shifted from puzzlement, to gravity, to
Explosive joy.
With a crash, he shot to his feet, slamming the desk as he stormed toward the door.
"What are you doing?" Tsuru asked.
"What do you think?!" Sengoku bellowed. His voice nearly shook the office apart. "I'm going to drag that brat back myself!"
"Hawk's not going anywhere near G-3. He's coming back here as my personal assistant! A mind like his, I'll teach myself!"
"Sengoku, you're the one being reckless now—!"
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