The New World.

Miracle Island.

The rain kept falling—relentless, cold—drenching the land in silence.

The world felt like a giant tomb, with only the mournful sound of rain echoing through it.

No one knew how much time had passed before a Marine soldier in a hooded raincoat came running over. He stopped before the unmoving Sengoku and saluted sharply.

"Report, Admiral Sengoku! The warships have been fully refitted. We have ten vessels ready for combat. Five are capable of sailing normally post-battle. Please give your orders!"

Sengoku's gaze, vacant and unfocused, flickered for a moment before he slowly came back to himself.

He was soaked to the bone, his signature afro hanging limp and matted. He looked utterly defeated.

"...Give the order. All personnel, board the warships. Prepare to set sail."

His rain-whitened lips parted slightly, the words emerging in a hoarse murmur.

The messenger hesitated.

He stared carefully at Sengoku's pale face, then pressed his lips together.

As part of Sengoku's personal guard, he had never seen the Admiral so lost, so hollow.

Sure, this battle hadn't gone exactly as planned, but was it really such a devastating blow?

They had still taken down plenty of pirates from the New World, hadn't they?

"Are you all right, Admiral Sengoku? Should I call the ship's doctor to take a look at you?"

He asked cautiously.

Sengoku was silent for a moment before forcing a stiff smile and waving him off.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

His eyes wandered blankly toward the Marines preparing in the rain.

Seeing the young, resolute faces, he unconsciously clenched his fists tighter.

"Go."

The messenger nodded and left without another word.

Sengoku remained rooted to the spot, eyes fixed ahead.

In his mind, the hoarse, aged voices of the Five Elders echoed again—cold, mocking—like demons whispering, over and over.

They wouldn't go away.

"Sengoku, you're a smart man. You should know what choice to make at a time like this…"

"This is our final test for Daren, just as we once tested you. We trust you understand the care behind our decision."

"The choice he makes will define his life and his fate."

"And you, Sengoku... You know we've always had high hopes for you."

"Kong has already decided. Once this matter is settled, he'll assume his new post in the Holy Land."

"You know what that means..."

"You... will become the next Fleet Admiral of Marine Headquarters!"

"The greatest strength of a Fleet Admiral is making the right call at the critical moment—and standing firmly with the government, defending the absolute authority of the World Government."

"So... don't let us down, Sengoku."

...

"Damn it!!"

Sengoku suddenly bowed his head, grinding his teeth as a low, feral growl escaped him—he couldn't hold back a curse.

His eyes were bloodshot.

Those five old bastards were telling him to prepare for the worst.

Yes, this was a test for Daren...

But it was just as much a test for him, Sengoku!

If he didn't make the most rational, decisive choice, he might never become Fleet Admiral.

Worse, he could be held responsible, dismissed—or even arrested!

In the pouring rain, Sengoku's fists clenched tighter, nails digging into flesh until blood began to seep out.

The World Noble Hunting Tournament…

The so-called "graduation trip" for the Celestial Dragons' elite...

Wasn't that kind of inhuman spectacle buried by history long ago?

Why, after twelve years, were they digging it out of the trash heap and putting it back on some sacred altar again?

Did they think the seas weren't chaotic enough already?

Roger's pirate crew was about to reach the "Final Island," and yet the Celestial Dragons in Mary Geoise were still obsessed with their twisted games of pretend.

And the most chilling truth—the one that made Sengoku's spine go cold—was...

Would that proud, defiant brat Daren really go through with such a mission?

The "Celestial Dragon killing" in the North Blue suddenly flashed through Sengoku's mind, and his heart sank.

Would a young man like that really be willing to carry out something so vile?

And worst of all...

The tournament was to be held in North Blue.

That was where Daren rose to power—his domain.

A place he would never let anyone defile.

Could Daren really stand by and watch an entire nation—or an entire island—be wiped out in a genocidal massacre?

Sengoku didn't dare think any further.

In his mind's eye, he could already see the flames, the blood, the bodies—burning before him.

"Admiral Sengoku."

A cold, grim voice rang out unexpectedly.

Sengoku paused, wiped the rain from his face, and turned his head.

Sakazuki, wearing his military cap, had walked over at some point. Rain dripped steadily from the brim as he looked at Sengoku with a solemn expression.

"Prepare to set sail."

He frowned, clearly noticing something was off about Sengoku.

"Hmm..."

Sengoku took a deep breath, pulled himself together, and began striding toward the coastline.

But after only a few steps, he suddenly stopped and turned to glance back at Sakazuki.

"Sakazuki, if one day our comrades or fellow soldiers disobey the government's orders... what would you do?"

He asked it as if in passing.

Sakazuki froze for a moment.

He looked deeply at the worn-out Admiral in front of him, then replied grimly,

"It is the duty of a soldier to obey orders."

There wasn't the slightest hesitation.

Sengoku went silent.

Without saying another word, he turned and continued walking toward the warship.

When he reached the front of the vessel, he stopped.

"The rain has stopped!"

"That's great... Otherwise, we would've hit a storm on the way back."

"..."

Some Marines had noticed and spoke up in surprise.

The rain... stopped?

Sengoku slowly raised his head, staring up at the sky, now slightly brighter. His lips pressed even tighter together.

On the far horizon, the cloud sea rolled and churned. Dense black clouds hung heavy and unsettled.

Lightning flickered faintly within.

He sighed inwardly.

No, the rain hadn't stopped.

A far greater storm was brewing.

"Let's go!"

Sengoku clenched his fists.

Under the stunned gazes of the surrounding Marines, he coldly raised his hand and gave the order:

"Destination... North Blue!"

The moment those words left his mouth—

Kuzan, Gion, Yamakaji, and the others were all struck dumb.

Borsalino blinked in surprise, then smiled with hidden meaning.

Sakazuki looked as if he'd been hit by lightning.

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