Chapter 32 — Convalescence
"You call this stability?"
Zephyr's tone was sharp enough to cut steel. His bandaged right arm hung stiffly at his side, the pain in it dull but ever-present — a reminder of everything he'd lost.
Across the desk, Fleet Admiral Sengoku barely had time to open his mouth before Zephyr's voice rose again.
"Tell me, Sengoku — you really went and fully implemented the Warlord system? Look me in the eye and tell me this is what you call peace."
His words came faster, each one heavier than the last.
"Legalized piracy. The right to revoke a bounty at will — both for them and their entire crew. Marines forbidden to enter their territorial waters without approval. And if permission is denied, we're to simply turn around and leave?"
Zephyr slammed his good hand against the table, his voice breaking with fury.
"What in hell does the World Government want?! Do they plan to strip the Marines of all authority? Tell me, Sengoku — what exactly are we supposed to be now?!"
"Zephyr," Sengoku said quietly, though the fatigue in his voice was obvious, "I understand your anger. But calm yourself. The Warlords don't just get privileges — they have obligations too. They maintain balance on the seas. And look around — the policy's working, isn't it?"
"Working?" Zephyr's laugh was bitter, almost hollow. "You call this working? Have you already forgotten what happened in Dressrosa?!"
He leaned forward, eyes burning. "I don't know all the details — but I know enough to say there's something rotten beneath that peace. A conspiracy. A dangerous one."
Sengoku fell silent for a moment. A shadow flickered behind his calm eyes — something like regret — before his expression settled again.
"Maybe there is," he admitted. "But look at the result. The kingdom stands. The people still follow their king. The world calls it peace, Zephyr. And that, at least for now, is enough."
Zephyr's jaw tightened.
"I'd rather see the World Government recruit those monsters than dress them up as saviors. The Warlord System is a joke — a stain on the Navy's honor."
"Those men aren't the type to be recruited," Sengoku said flatly.
"So you know they're dangerous!" Zephyr shot back, his voice low and bitter. "If that's the case, why not rally other powers instead? Independent warriors, free agents — even rogue Marines! Anything but this mockery!"
Sengoku's response came like a hammer.
"Because this is the World Government's decision."
Silence.
That one sentence hit harder than any blow.
Zephyr's lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. He simply sat there, shoulders trembling, fury slowly ebbing into helpless frustration.
Sengoku didn't gloat — he just sighed.
"I don't like it either, old friend. But right now, it's what the seas need. Look at the results. For all their flaws, the Warlords have kept the chaos in check. Let pirates fight pirates — it spares us the blood."
Zephyr gave a hollow chuckle. "Pirates fighting pirates, huh? No… this isn't justice. I think I'm finally starting to understand what that brat meant."
"Brat?" Sengoku blinked, confused — then realization dawned. His tone softened.
"You mean that retired ensign from the West Blue? The one from the 315th Branch — Eiger, right?"
He leaned back, crossing his arms, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"So even you and Kuzan have your eyes on that boy, huh? Interesting…"
For a brief moment, Sengoku's gaze drifted toward the wide window, out over the glimmering sea beyond Marineford.
A young man who spoke of his own brand of justice… and a teacher who could no longer believe in the one he once upheld.
He didn't say it aloud, but in that moment, even the Fleet Admiral found himself wondering—
What kind of man was this Eiger, to make Zephyr question the meaning of justice itself?
At first, Sengoku had thought Eiger was just another arrogant upstart — the kind of headstrong idealist who spouted grand words about justice before crumbling under its weight.
But now, hearing Zephyr bring the boy up again, there was… something else in his voice.
A rare trace of respect.
That alone was enough to spark Sengoku's curiosity.
"If you think so highly of him," the Fleet Admiral said at last, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "then why not bring him to Headquarters? I could grant him the rank of Rear Admiral — instantly. From what you're saying, it sounds like he's already found his own sense of justice, hasn't he?"
Zephyr chuckled — a low, humorless sound. "His justice isn't the Navy's. And it sure as hell isn't the World Government's."
He shook his head, the lines on his face deepening. "Besides… the kid's already settled down. Married, even. For him, home means more than any justice the world can offer."
"Then his sense of justice must be pretty weak," Sengoku said with a faint smile, half amused. "To walk away that easily from Headquarters… I don't see what you find so special about him."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Forget it — not worth debating."
A retired ensign, at that. Perhaps talented, yes — but hardly someone worth a Fleet Admiral's attention.
Sengoku's gaze drifted to Zephyr's bandaged right arm. "Your hand's been reattached, I see. Looks stable — though it'll take some time before it's fully functional, I assume?"
Zephyr followed his glance, flexing his fingers slightly. The movement was slow, clumsy — but there was motion, at least.
"It'll take about a year," he admitted softly. "Didn't think I'd ever get it back, to be honest. The doctors say with enough rest and training, it should recover."
"A year, huh? Then take it," Sengoku said firmly. "You've earned the rest. Stop blaming yourself for what happened — it wasn't your fault."
When Zephyr didn't respond, Sengoku added, "I'll approve a year and a half of leave. Go somewhere quiet — relax, heal. You don't owe anyone anything right now."
"That's actually why I came here," Zephyr replied. "To ask for leave."
"Oh?" Sengoku arched a brow. "Already decided where you're going?"
"Of course." Zephyr's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint gleam of purpose flickering within them.
"The West Blue. I'm going to the West Blue to recover."
Sengoku froze — then sighed, realization dawning on him.
"…You're planning to find that boy, aren't you?"
Zephyr didn't answer, but his expression said everything.
"Looks like you're not the only one who believes in him," Sengoku murmured. "Very well. I won't stop you."
He reached into his desk, scribbled a few lines on a form, stamped it with the official Marine seal, and slid it across the table. His voice softened, steady and sincere.
"Then go, Zephyr. Heal — and come back. I expect to see the return of Black Arm Zephyr in a year and a half."
Zephyr's lips curved into a weary smile. "Black Arm Zephyr, huh? We'll see. Thanks, Sengoku."
He stood, turned, and made for the door.
Could he really go back to who he once was?
Even he wasn't sure anymore.
As he reached the threshold, Sengoku's voice echoed after him.
"If he doesn't believe in the Navy's justice," he called out, "then what is his justice?"
Zephyr paused. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted into a faint, wry grin.
"His justice…" he said softly, his tone edged with amusement, "is his own. And as for the Navy's justice—"
He glanced back, his eyes glinting. "He said it's nothing but a pile of dog shit."
The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
---
Back in the West Blue — the Sibia River Archipelago.
"I told you, I didn't join any Mafia!"
Eiger's exasperated voice carried across the dock as he faced the frantic village chief, Marin, who looked ready to collapse from panic.
"Relax," Eiger said, gesturing emphatically. "I'm a retired Marine Ensign, remember? You think I'd go and join some two-bit Mafia gang?"
Technically, he wasn't lying.
The Mafia worked for him — not the other way around.
What kind of self-respecting ex-Marine officer would lower himself to take orders from thugs? The very idea was absurd.
If Enchi or the others at the 315th Branch ever heard about this, they'd probably laugh themselves sick.
Eiger sighed, slinging his axe over his shoulder, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"Besides," he added dryly, "I think I'm the one they should be worried about joining me."