The matter of Ace.
No matter how well Garp tried to hide it, a man of Sengoku's intellect was bound to find the threads.
A member of the 'D' clan, born in the East Blue, exceptional martial arts skills, proficient in dual-type Haki, and a masterful command of the Logia Flame-Flame Fruit. But the clincher was the intelligence Sengoku had gathered: this Ace was not only skilled in the Rokushiki (Six Powers), but his specific application of physical combat felt hauntingly familiar.
It bore the unmistakable signature of the old man.
"The Shichibukai? Haha, let those five old geezers in Mary Geoise lose sleep over that mess," Rowan chuckled, feeling a twinge of guilt.
He had originally hoped that with his direct involvement, Ace might deviate from the path of the original story and choose the life of a Marine. Yet, the boy had still snuck away to sea behind his back. Roger's bloodline was truly a headache.
In this world, under Rowan's tutelage, Ace's strength was significantly greater than his counterpart's in the original timeline. In the original story, before catching Whitebeard's eye, Ace had been roughly on par with Jinbe. Now, Ace had managed to hold a clear upper hand in their duel. Because of this, his rise as a Supernova—and the speed at which Whitebeard noticed him—had accelerated tremendously.
Strength was only part of the problem. What truly gave Sengoku a migraine was Ace's current web of connections.
He was intimately linked to the old man, yet favored by the Whitebeard Pirates. Intelligence suggested that Whitebeard was already grooming Ace to be his successor, perhaps even intending to push him toward the throne of the Pirate King.
As Fleet Admiral, Sengoku's logic told him he could not allow this boy to grow under Whitebeard's wing. With the talent Ace had displayed, he wouldn't just be a great pirate in the future; he would be the next Emperor of the Sea. Yet, that small spark of sentiment in his heart made it impossible to move against a junior raised by his own mentor.
Sengoku was, quite frankly, torn.
"That man Roger... he's been dead for twenty years, and he's still causing trouble," Sengoku muttered, shaking his head and ultimately pinning the blame on the deceased Pirate King.
"By the way, where's that brat Garp? I haven't heard from him lately," Rowan said, hastily changing the subject.
Garp hadn't called in a while. Usually, the man checked in every few days, but it had been over two weeks now. Even though Garp was at the peak of world power, he was still in his seventies. Rowan recalled that in the original story, the "brat" ran into trouble around that age. As his father figure, he couldn't help but worry.
In his early years, after countless attempts, Rowan had realized he was unable to have biological children in this world. Consequently, Garp—who had grown up by his side—was the closest thing to family he had.
"Garp? He's in the New World," Sengoku replied. "He said his hands were getting itchy for a fight, and since Kaido has been a bit restless lately, I sent him over to take a look. He should be back in a few days."
"I see... that's fine then." Rowan let out a breath of relief and nodded.
"Pops, did you call this late just to ask about Garp?" Sengoku's voice carried a hint of jealousy.
He was the one working day and night, yet the old man didn't ask how he was doing, focusing instead on that ox of a man, Garp. Garp might be your "big boy," but I'm your most brilliant student, aren't I?
"Not really. Just asking in passing."
Failing to catch the pout in Sengoku's tone, Rowan continued, "I mostly realized it's been a while since we talked. I wanted to catch up and mention that there's a nasty group of pirates near the Turbine Waters. They've been causing a lot of trouble lately, even robbing fishing boats."
"Is that so?"
Sengoku's mood brightened instantly, the frustration over Ace evaporating. The old man did care about him after all.
After a moment's thought, Sengoku answered, "Pirates in the Turbine area... that should be the Great Crocodile Pirates. They fled from the West Blue to the Grand Line a month ago, but intelligence from a few days ago suggested they retreated back to the East Blue. I suppose they landed in the Turbine Waters."
As the "Resourceful General," almost everything on the sea was under Sengoku's control, save for a few elusive crews.
"The Great Crocodile Pirates? Never heard of them. How's their strength?" Rowan asked.
"The captain is 'Mad Croc' Jakes. He has the Ancient Zoan-type Crocodile-Crocodile Fruit, Model: Chinese Alligator. His strength is average, with a bounty of 13.5 million Berris. He has three ships and roughly 270 crew members."
"Thirteen point five million? Just a small fry, then," Rowan said with a note of disdain.
Even if his strength had been bottom-tier among Vice Admirals before he retired, he was still a two-star officer of the Headquarters. A worthy opponent for him should at least have a bounty exceeding 100 million. A 13-million-Berri "shrimp" didn't even register on his radar—though, in the East Blue, that was actually among the highest bounties around.
"Thirteen million... a Colonel from the 197th Branch likely couldn't handle it alone," Sengoku mused. "I recently redeployed the Marines from the neighboring 166th Branch to the Rost Sea. They won't be back for another week. I'll notify the Colonel of the 197th to set up a perimeter, and once the 166th returns, we'll coordinate with the 154th and 142nd. Four branches in total will execute a pincer movement to eliminate them."
Sengoku was truly the Fleet Admiral. Despite the mountain of problems on his desk, he formulated a complete tactical solution for Rowan's request in seconds. His knowledge of the local branches was so thorough it was as if he were an East Blue commander rather than the head of the entire Navy.
"So, it'll take about a week," Rowan said, rubbing his chin.
"Roughly, yes."
"In a week, even with a perimeter, those pirates won't just sit still. They have ships; they can move. At their level of brutality, they probably strike every two days. That means at least three more tragedies before you're ready."
Rowan thought for a moment and made a decision. He rolled his shoulders, feeling his joints pop, and smiled. "I'll take care of this. It's been a while since these old bones have had a proper workout."
Though he had been retired for decades, Rowan had spent half his life as a Marine. His sense of justice remained ironclad. He couldn't do much about the scum of the Celestial Dragons, but he wouldn't sit by while civilians suffered. Besides, his body felt a bit "itchy" lately; he needed the exercise. A 10-million-Berri pirate was the perfect warm-up.
"No!"
Sengoku's expression turned stern immediately. "Absolutely not! Your body can't handle that kind of strain anymore. Not just me—Garp and Tsuru would never allow you to do this!"