"The situation's already that severe? No wonder the Vice Admiral couldn't sit still — he grabbed Shumi and flew out last night ahead of us."
Onigumo sighed heavily. "We'd better get there as soon as possible."
As he spoke, his gaze turned cold, shifting toward the end of the conference table.
Sitting there, with a bitter expression, was the CP-0 captain — Wilson.
"I've already explained this, Rear Admiral Onigumo," Wilson said tiredly, rubbing his temples. "There are many CP-0 action teams, all operating independently. Our assignment in the North Blue was just to retrieve personnel — nothing more. Headquarters didn't tell us anything beyond that. You can't put this on us."
"Who are you trying to fool?"
Onigumo's temper exploded. He slammed the table so hard it cracked.
"Even if you were only here to retrieve someone, don't tell me you didn't see the hell that White City has become? Even if you're CP agents, you're still human, aren't you? How can you stand by and do nothing?!"
"When we arrived, the royal ships were already waiting by the coast…"
Wilson trailed off, then sighed. "Forget it. Arguing won't help now. Shumi is already guiding Vice Admiral Nao. The rest of us will also do our best to cooperate with the Marine's actions. Just say the word if you need anything."
"If the Vice Admiral hadn't ordered otherwise, I'd have already thrown you lot in a cell with that damn king," Onigumo spat, sneering. "Cooperate? Hah. A pack of World Government lapdogs — who'd want your help?"
Buru-buru-buru~
The sudden ringing of a Den Den Mushi interrupted Onigumo.
"It's the Vice Admiral."
Momonga raised a hand, signaling Onigumo to quiet down, and picked up the receiver.
He listened for a few moments, his eyes widening first in surprise, then disbelief, then outrage — before his expression finally turned complicated. With a long sigh, he said,
"…Understood, Vice Admiral. We'll head there at full speed."
He hung up, then looked around the room grimly.
"Whether or not the CP agents are bastards is one thing…" Momonga said bitterly. "But it seems we have an utter bastard in our own Marine ranks..."
After briefly explaining what happened on the beach.
"What?!"
BANG!
Onigumo's fist smashed through half the table, his face red with fury.
"How could such a thing happen?!"
"Bastards! For a bit of bounty money, they killed over two hundred children? They're simply beasts... no, worse than beasts!"
Even Wilson's face turned ashen. This should have been the perfect chance for him to fire back after being scolded earlier, but in the face of such an unspeakable massacre, he couldn't muster a single word of defense.
"The Vice Admiral also said that around twenty children managed to survive," Momonga continued gravely. "But they're all wounded — some badly, some less so."
"Given the situation, the Vice Admiral has to prioritize stopping the war and rescuing the remaining citizens of White City. Someone else will have to take over the scene at the beach. Once we get there, we'll split up — a small group will stay behind to tend to the survivors, and the rest will rush to Flevance to support the Vice Admiral."
His tone was calm and precise. Onigumo and Wilson both nodded in agreement.
"Those Marines, and the commanding Rear Admiral, his name is Engel, right?"
Wilson, as if remembering something, pinched his chin, frowned, and reminded them, "You'd better keep them under tight guard. Leave enough men at the beach. If those bastards manage to escape after what they did, it would be an insult to every child they murdered."
But no one answered him.
"…"
The silence stretched for several seconds before Momonga finally spoke again, his tone oddly flat.
"Don't worry. We won't need to leave many behind."
Onigumo folded his arms, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold smirk.
"The Vice Admiral will handle it himself."
"…Handle it himself?"
Wilson blinked, confused — and then, as he saw the cruel smile on Onigumo's face, realization dawned. His eyes widened, his face went pale, and he gasped aloud—
"No way…"
Doing that would be a serious violation of military regulations!
...
On the beach.
"Th-that's… that's everything I know…"
The freckled Captain, shaking all over, knelt halfway to the ground under Nao's icy stare. His voice trembled as he spilled every scrap of information he had.
"As for that man — the one who gave us the orders — I really don't know who he actually is…"
As he spoke, he carefully glanced up at Nao, terrified that a single unclear word might further enrage this cold, terrifying figure from Marine Headquarters.
But at that moment, Nao wasn't even looking at him.
His expression was dark as he silently surveyed the scene around them.
The beach was covered in corpses — and blood.
When he'd finally realized, far too late, that "Flevance" — that small, unremarkable name — was Law's hometown, the so-called "White City," he had immediately turned back, flying at full speed.
And when he'd heard the gunfire echoing over the sea, he'd rushed straight for this beach.
But in the end…
He was still too late.
Nao's hand clenched into a tight fist. Regret, guilt — countless emotions twisted through his chest. He wanted to slap himself.
More than two hundred innocent children…
And that young nun, her body so thin and weak, who had endured who knows how much hardship to bring these children here through the night...
If only he'd realized sooner.
If only he'd arrived a little earlier…
"...Hah."
He took a long, steadying breath.
Then Nao turned back around — his deep, dark eyes falling upon Rear Admiral Engel, whom he had moments ago lifted by the throat and thrown to the ground.
Unlike the freckled Captain and the other Marines, who had all collapsed to their knees in terror and were weeping for mercy, Engel — the deputy commander of the North Blue's First Branch — seemed to have abandoned all pretense.
He sat on the ground, arms crossed, sneering up at Nao with defiance.
"Even though…" Nao said quietly, his voice like ice, "after what you've done, you don't deserve the dignity of being treated as human — I still didn't expect that, even now, standing before me, you wouldn't show the slightest hint of remorse."
"Remorse?" Engel rolled his eyes and snorted. "What's there to regret? I got the money, didn't I? As for you, 'White Dragon'—" he smirked, "—you didn't seriously think I respected you the other day, did you? You think I was afraid of you?"
What the hell are you talking about, Rear Admiral?!
The Captain and the others turned to him, stunned and horrified.
"Pathetic fools," Engel barked out a laugh, stroking his goatee. "Scared already? Don't forget — whatever 'methods' we used, we were still carrying out orders from above."
He raised a thumb mockingly toward the sky, giving Nao a sidelong look.
"From above, White Dragon — the World Government! We were told to wipe out the survivors from White City. Not a single one was to be left alive. Orders from the top. If you don't like it, go take it up with the World Government. Don't come preaching to me."
"And besides…" He gave a dry, ugly chuckle. "Even if someone does come after me for this, I'd still have to be sent to Enies Lobby first, tried by a military tribunal, and then sentenced. Either way, it's not your place to judge me here, is it?"