Silence swallowed the cabin.
Every employee of the World Economy News Paper stared, unable to believe what they were seeing.
A heartbeat later, outrage broke like a wave.
"Will, what are you doing?!"
"That's the President!"
"Don't forget—President Morgans saved you from freezing to death that winter!"
"You were just a child! He raised you like his own!"
"How dare you point a gun at him now?!"
Will, the young man with the pistol, listened without a flicker of emotion. He only shook his head and said hoarsely,
"Destroy the report, President Morgans."
"You know if you print this, the World Government won't let you walk away."
Morgans lifted his hands, inhaling the faint scent of gunpowder at the back of his head—then laughed.
"Tell me, Will… are you truly a homeless orphan?"
Will paused, then answered, "Every member of Cipher Pol is a homeless orphan."
"Please, President Morgans. Do as I ask… I beg you."
Morgans tipped his head back, staring through the window at the pale sky. He sighed.
"Will, did you know? Twelve years ago, I faced the same choice."
Will's brow twitched. "God Valley?"
"Yes. God Valley."
Morgans smiled faintly.
"I promised a child I would publish the truth. It would've been the biggest story on earth."
"A naive little brat—though he looked like a terrifying bear."
"Twelve years, and I missed my chance."
"Were you threatened?" Will asked, voice cold.
"Yes."
Morgans gave a dry chuckle, regret flickering in his eyes.
"The World Government leaned on me. I yielded."
"It was an offer I couldn't refuse."
"I never thought I'd get another chance. But fate has handed me one—and I won't let it slip."
He turned slowly, staring down the barrel aimed at him. A gentle smile touched his beak as he looked at the boy he'd rescued from winter, raised for fifteen years, and brought to manhood.
"Pull the trigger, if you mean to stop me."
"But don't expect me to give up."
His smile softened.
"After all, I am… Big News Morgans."
Silence fell again.
Will stared at the strange, indomitable figure before him. His gun hand trembled.
Pity, ruthlessness, resentment, fury, shock, confusion—emotions warred across his face until all that remained was a deep, hollow despair.
He gritted his teeth. Resolve flashed in his eyes.
To the horror of everyone watching, he let out a raw, animal sound, pressed the muzzle to his own temple—
—and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The shot cracked through the air.
The pistol spun from Will's hand.
He stared, stunned, at Morgans—now holding the gun.
"My boy," Morgans said, smiling as he patted Will's shoulder, "I saved you so you wouldn't throw your life away like this."
Will's legs buckled. He crashed to his knees.
Morgans shook his head, chuckled, and blew the white smoke curling from the barrel. Then he faced the staff and declared, solemn and clear:
"This place isn't safe anymore. Prepare to evacuate."
"And one more thing—" He lifted the report and photographs, spread his wings wide, and laughed.
"Print every word. Front page. Run extras all night. Within twenty-four hours, I want the whole world to know the Celestial Dragons' Holy Land—Mary Geoise—was bombed to hell!"
"The headline reads: 'King of the North Blue Rogers Darren Officially Declares War on the World Government! — The World's Strongest Fleet, the North Blue Fleet, Enters Its First Battle!'"
"The Flying Fleet is reborn! The greatest weapon of mass destruction this world has ever seen!"
"Hahahahaha!!"
At that thunderous laugh, every spine in the cabin straightened.
"Yes, President!"
A deep rumble traveled through the hull. Above, the enormous hot-air balloon unfurled; the burner roared to life, and buoyancy wrenched the World Economy News Paper's headquarters skyward.
The ship shuddered. Morgans looked out at the open blue and drifting clouds, exhilaration flooding him like wind in his feathers.
"President Morgans…"
The rasp came from behind.
Morgans turned. Will still knelt on the floor, staring up at him, throat working, eyes reddening.
"In the past… what kind of threat were you facing?"
Morgans was quiet for a long moment. Then he smiled, easy and untroubled. "It doesn't matter, my boy."
Will looked as if lightning had struck him.
---
Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
Cold, lethal battleships cut in and made fast. Before the gangplanks touched wood, Marines poured over the rails, spears and sabers in hand, racing toward a designated sector.
They moved in grim silence, reaching a Japanese-style compound in under ten minutes.
The surrounding buildings had been crushed flat, the ground a scarred wasteland of shattered stone.
And yet the mansion stood untouched. Serene. Sealed away from the ruin—as if the world outside did not exist.
It had been defended to the last.
Now—
Hundreds—no, thousands—of Marines ringed the estate, hands shaking, eyes red, jaws clenched as they raised their weapons.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Black muzzles of repeating spears.
Knife-bright edges of service sabers.
A cold bristle of steel.
The barrels and blades of comrades-in-arms leveled at familiar figures—battered, bloodied, and spent—standing before the mansion.
More precisely:
At the purple-haired old man at their head.
"By order of the Gorosei, supreme authority of the World Government—this area is under military lockdown!"
"All personnel will evacuate the premises at once. Failure to comply will result in… lethal force!"
To be continued...