I, Kizaru—Borsalino—am an admiral who lives by "unclear justice," a veteran who understands workplace survival better than anyone.
I've never been the type to risk my life fighting a monster of my own level just for a five-hundred-beri monthly salary—figuratively speaking.
So when I clearly felt Gern's completely unfeigned killing intent, and when that blade—Eight Desolations—was pressed right against my throat…
I made a very decisive choice.
…I followed my heart.
"Th-that—now hold on! You know me, Gern-kun."
Kizaru kept both hands slightly raised, his tone returning to its familiar drawl, but the substance of his words was pure compromise.
"I've always been on your side, you know?
Since you've already made up your mind, Gern-kun… then I won't say anything more."
As he spoke, he very carefully—extremely slowly—tilted his head back just a little, using a finger to nudge Eight Desolations away, putting some distance between the blade and his throat. He forced an utterly insincere smile onto his face.
"After all, we're colleagues. As your senior… I'll offer you my moral support, at least."
"Good luck to you~"
The moment those words left his mouth, he didn't give Gern any chance to strike again.
His body dissolved once more into countless golden particles of light.
This time, it wasn't a short-range displacement—but a full-speed escape straight into the sky beyond the G-10 base.
In the blink of an eye, he vanished beyond the horizon, fleeing far faster than he had arrived.
Light-speed retreat—true to its name.
Of course, even as he fled, Kizaru didn't forget to use an encrypted Den Den Mushi to report what he had learned.
In particular: that Gern had already returned to G-10, that his attitude was extremely uncompromising, and that the Revolutionary Army's "Tyrant," Kuma, had appeared.
He conveyed the information concisely to Sengoku, far away in Marineford.
With that done, Kizaru washed his hands of the matter entirely, planning to find a safe place and observe the coming cataclysm from afar.
As for stopping Gern?
Whoever wants that job can have it. Borsalino certainly wasn't getting involved.
Back at G-10, Gern was not surprised by Kizaru's sensible retreat.
He slowly withdrew the black blade Eight Desolations, the bandages coiling back around it automatically, sealing the blade once more.
He did not act immediately afterward.
Instead, Gern waited—quietly—for several days.
During those days, G-10 Base operated like a precision-built war machine, running at unprecedented efficiency.
Under Tesoro's coordination, all supplies, ammunition, and ship maintenance were completed at top speed.
Everything was made airtight—because even though Gern had already warned Whitebeard, caution was never optional.
Finally, when all preparations were complete—
On that day, the atmosphere at G-10's harbor was grim and suffocating.
Led by Gern, the core members of the so-called "Calamity Faction" boarded a single warship—one flying both the Marine flag and a unique "Calamity" banner.
There was no massive fleet.
Just one utterly ordinary-looking warship slowly left the harbor, cutting through the waves of the New World with a clear destination—
Marine G-1 Branch Base.
The reason for choosing G-1 instead of any other route was simple.
The Red Line bisected the world, dividing it into east and west.
To reach the Holy Land of Mary Geoise at the top of the Red Line from the New World side, the most legitimate and shortest path was through the Marine-controlled G-1 Branch at the New World's entrance.
(If coming from the first half of the Grand Line, one would surface via the coating route at Sabaody Archipelago.)
Gern's objective could not have been clearer.
He wasn't planning some covert revenge.
He intended—using the most dominant, most unquestionable posture—
To follow the World Government's own rules and march openly…
Straight up to Mary Geoise.
At the same time, at Marine G-1 Branch Base—
In front of the massive elevator corridor leading to Mary Geoise atop the Red Line.
The atmosphere was not tense, as one might expect.
Instead, it carried a strangely… leisurely air.
Garp sat cross-legged on the ground with zero regard for appearances, a huge bag of senbei beside him, crunching away happily.
Marine Admiral "Aokiji," Kuzan, lounged in a deck chair nearby, wearing his signature sleep mask.
He seemed to be fast asleep, even letting out soft snores, looking completely unconcerned about what was coming.
Marine Admiral "Kizaru," Borsalino, sat cross-legged atop an ammunition crate, calmly trimming his fingernails.
It was obvious that despite his extreme reluctance, Kizaru—being one of the few admirals not otherwise occupied—had still been dragged into this.
The gathering of these three top-tier Marine combatants should have signaled an earth-shaking event.
Yet to the other Marines at G-1, it looked more like an ordinary high-ranking inspection.
After all, the base had not entered maximum alert, and everything continued operating as usual.
"Hey, Kuzan, don't actually fall asleep!" Garp said through a mouthful of senbei. "That kid's probably really coming through here!"
Hearing him, Kuzan pulled down his eye mask, revealing a bleary eye, and let out a massive yawn.
"Ara ara… Garp-san, don't worry.
If he really shows up, with that kind of commotion, there's no way I'd be able to sleep anyway."
With that, he pulled the mask back up, adjusted his position, and prepared to nap some more.
Kizaru blew the nail dust off his fingers and chimed in lazily,
"Maybe Gern-kun is just coming back to report for duty?
After all, something that big happened—it'd be normal to come explain things to the Fleet Admiral, right~?"
Of course, his wandering gaze made it clear he didn't believe that himself.
Garp snorted.
"Report for duty? With Celestial Dragon heads in hand? Now that I'd like to see."
He stuffed another handful of senbei into his mouth and sighed.
"Sengoku, that stubborn old fool—always obsessed with saving face. Stuff like this can't be covered up forever."
After all, Gern represented the Marine's face and deterrent power in the New World.
And Marineford was the absolute symbol of dominance in the first half of the Grand Line.
Marines fighting Marines—if that got out…
The pirates would laugh their heads off.
So the matter had been almost completely suppressed.
To the pirates and other factions outside, it probably just looked like another routine dispute between G-10 and Marineford over funding or authority.
After all… the moment Sabaody erupted, World Government agents and the Marines had erased all witnesses.
So quickly that even Morgans' people never caught wind of it.
That was the illusion the Marine high command and World Government were desperately trying to maintain—
Forcing a storm capable of overturning the entire world order into the shape of a mundane "internal affair."
Garp finished the last senbei, brushed the crumbs from his hands, stood up, and cracked his joints.
Looking out toward the roiling seas of the New World, his eyes grew slightly more serious.
"Alright. Time to stay sharp.
That kid… isn't one to play by the rules."
"If he really dares to pass through here…" Garp clenched his fist—like a sandbag—bones cracking loudly.
"Then even if it costs this old body, I'll make sure he understands—
Some things are best left at just a warning."
Watching Garp's rising enthusiasm, both Aokiji and Kizaru muttered the same thought internally:
If they truly wanted to stop that man… they wouldn't have sent the three of us.