As the five Shichibukai settled into their lines, the air itself seemed to hold its breath. A hush pressed down on the port until young Marine recruits could feel their scalps prickle and their throats work in dry swallows.
"Sengoku…" Tsuru stepped close and lowered her voice. "We can't let this farce continue. The investiture is about to begin. News ships from every major outlet have already passed the Gates of Justice. They'll reach Marineford any moment."
Sengoku, who had been enjoying the spectacle, frowned. "No need to rush," he murmured. "Not everyone's here yet."
Tsuru gave him a look sharpened by years at his side. "Intelligence has Visual Den Den Mushi rolling," she said, voice turning crisp. "If this isn't contained by the time the press arrives, we lose control of the narrative."
He paused—then understood at once.
Cut it off now and Headquarters could shape the story. Wait, and tomorrow's "Marine Headquarters Admiral Sengoku Single-Handedly Crushes the Arrogant Shichibukai" might turn into "Shichibukai Wreak Havoc at Marineford; Justice in Tatters."
He shot Tsuru a grateful look. As Staff Officer and head of Intelligence, she was the expert here.
"Hm. You're right," he said gravely. "That was exactly my plan."
Tsuru's lips twitched.
Sengoku cleared his throat, stepped forward with a practiced, confident smile, and raised his voice to the five bristling Warlords:
"Time's up. Settle your grudges in private later."
"Call it a day. Show an old man some respect—"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Footfalls detonated across the stone.
His bid to defuse the standoff had the opposite effect. The five launched in the same instant, each lunging for his chosen enemy.
Sengoku froze, momentarily blank.
Not one of them looked his way.
Clang!!
Air-shredding threads smashed against the massive Black Blade, sparks bursting like fireworks.
Doflamingo's pink coat snapped in the wind as he grinned at the stoic Hawk-Eyes, voice laced with deranged amusement. "Heh heh heh… That broken Black Blade of yours is something. I've got a friend who collects rare Meito."
A flicker of murder touched Mihawk's eyes. His tone was cold steel. "If you're not afraid to die, try to take it."
He heaved the blade, throwing Doflamingo back, then stooped and struck like his namesake—relentless, the sword a blur harrying the flamingo's wings.
They clashed again and again, each impact hurling them apart. Earth, buildings, and bulwarks split wherever they passed, driving Marines back in terror.
Elsewhere, Fisher Tiger stood alone against Moria and Crocodile.
"Fish-Man Karate: Million True Fists!"
His fist, packed with the raw might of a Giant, detonated the Desert Treasure Blade into shrieking fragments.
As sand skirled in the air, Fisher Tiger stamped once. A column of water towered up from the harbor's edge. With an easy sweep of his great red hand, he gave the torrent shape and will, turning it into a high-pressure jet.
"Fish-Man Karate: Water Heart - Sea Current Shoulder Throw!"
Boom!!
The water cannon punched through the black cloud of Shadow Bats, blasting both Moria and Crocodile into a scrambling retreat.
Their faces darkened. The earlier swagger was gone.
This damned Fish-Man matched them blow for blow—and here at the water's edge, his mastery of the sea let him suppress two Devil Fruit users at once. For Crocodile, it was worse; the damp air and flying spray gnawed at his transformations, the Sand-Sand Fruit's strengths blunted by a single man's reach into the ocean.
Chaos bloomed.
Sandstorms howled. Blades flashed. Shadows writhed. Seawater roared. Shockwaves hammered the port until iron groaned and stone sang.
And in the midst of it—
Sengoku stood with his hand half-raised, the confident smile on his face going stiff.
Under the curious stares of a thousand subordinates, he let his hand sink back down—very casually.
"…"
"The Shichibukai are awfully arrogant," Borsalino observed, wearing a mask of annoyance. "Not one of them's willing to give you any face, Admiral Sengoku. Should I go take them all down for you?"
Sengoku: "…"
The surrounding Marines: "…"
Tsuru covered her face. "Borsalino… sometimes silence is a virtue."
Sengoku's jaw knotted. "Borsalino…"
Both of the Admiral's hands went up in mock innocence. "I only wanted to help you save face, Admiral… You look very scary right now…"
Sengoku: "…"
He clutched at his chest as if in pain.
Buzzz… buzzz… buzzz…
A violent droning tore across the distant sky, swelling louder by the heartbeat. It sounded like a killing tool ripping the air to shreds, hurtling in at impossible speed.
"What now…?" Sengoku's expression darkened.
Borsalino's eyebrow arched, intrigued.
The five Shichibukai felt it in the same instant. Pupils contracted to pinpoints. A chill surged from the soles of their feet up over their scalps; pores prickled open. Overwhelmed by raw danger, they broke off, throwing themselves backward.
The next instant—
Two streaks—one black, one white—speared into the earth with ghostlike speed and crushing force.
BOOM!
BOOM!
The vast oval port heaved as twin geysers of dust roared skyward.
To be continued...