"Arrest Rogers Darren, the criminal who slaughtered the Celestial Dragons!"
Sengoku's command cut the air like a winter blade, and every Marine stiffened under it.
Vice Admiral Darren—one of their own—declared a criminal? Even after watching that demonlike figure butcher World Nobles with their own eyes, the mind balked. He was the Corps' brightest star, the future Admiral—Rogers Darren.
But Sengoku's order branded him at once: the man who murdered Celestial Dragons.
Shock and fear tangled with disbelief. Arrest Vice Admiral Darren—with what? With whom? This was the hero who flattened the World Destroyer and felled the Golden Lion, the man whose strength brushed shoulders with Roger, Kaido, Whitebeard. Even if they could match him, could they really turn blades on the comrade who'd saved them at Marineford?
Men traded helpless looks. Doubt hollowed them out and left them frozen.
Sengoku's face hardened. Then he caught Saint Saturn's cold stare across the miles of snow and sea and felt his spine chill. He ground the words out:
"Do you dare defy my orders—defy the World Government?"
That struck like a hammer. The Government's wrath didn't end with a man—it ran through his family, his friends, his children. Eight centuries of power burned anyone who stood against it.
Eyes went bloodshot. No one could raise a weapon against Darren; no one dared defy the Government.
"Well, isn't this awkward…"
The lazy voice drifted across the deck. Borsalino flashed upward in a lance of gold, cloak billowing. He spread his arms, fingers poised.
"My apologies, Darren. From this moment, you're an enemy of the Marines."
Light bloomed along his body and burst outward in a storm.
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
Golden beads of light hammered the shore, blossoming into fireballs, a choir of explosions roaring skyward. Smoke boiled. Borsalino touched down with a theatrical sigh, scratching his head. "That Indestructible Body of his is terrifying. He didn't even bother to dodge."
Sengoku's eyelid jumped. Not a single shot had come close—but he swallowed his fury. Now was not the time.
Around them, the Marines seemed to catch the cue. Faces flushed with sudden purpose, they swung barrels and rifles toward Darren's silhouette and unleashed a thunder of fire.
"Arrest the criminal Rogers Darren!"
"Fire!"
"For the glory of the World Government!"
Shells stitched the ground into a hell of dust and flame. In the wavering heat, Darren watched the blasts walk harmlessly past and let a crooked smile touch his lips.
This won't hold. They'll smell the farce soon enough.
He should be here any moment.
Heat rolled over him. Far out on the decks, Sengoku, Borsalino, Sakazuki, and Kuzan all lifted their heads at once.
The sky darkened. Clouds thickened to ink, folding into a grinding vortex. Lightning cracked; thunder rolled; the gale took on a voice.
A monstrous serpent eased from the churn, vast enough to blot the horizon. Jade scales shone with violet lightning; a tail like a tower tore the cloudbank like paper. A mountain-sized head pushed free; crimson slitted eyes swept the fleet with a killing calm.
The Azure Dragon.
"Wororororo! Marines, we meet again!"
The roar tossed the sea into chaos. Battleships pitched and groaned. Sengoku's face drained.
"Beast… Kaido!!"
The line of Marines paled as one. They'd tasted that terror two days ago on Miracle Island. To face it again now—
"Kaido joined the party too," Borsalino mused, stroking his chin, sly smile thin as a knife. "But one Kaido won't turn the tide. We'd need Big Mom at least…"
Sengoku's stomach dropped. The answer came before the dread could finish forming.
"Ma—ma—ma—ma! Isn't this just like God Valley!"
She strode from the cloudbank on a black swirl, sword on her shoulder, pink dress hugging a mountain of muscle and menace, crimson boots gleaming. The pressure that fell from her was no less than the dragon's.
Big Mom—Charlotte Linlin.
"She actually came," Borsalino murmured.
Sengoku said nothing.
Two of the New World's greatest hung in the sky, grinning like wolves at the Marines below.
"Sengoku! Hand over the prize for the hunt—the Float-Float Fruit!"
Their voices overlapped—and then their wills broke loose. Conqueror's Haki poured into the heavens like a storm of black lightning.
"???"
Sengoku rocked as if struck. The Float-Float Fruit? The final prize for this so-called Native Hunt was the Golden Lion's Devil Fruit?
Why was he only hearing this now?
To be continued...