"One hour?"
Those words—what did they mean?
Fisher Tiger's head shot up in disbelief, his breathing suddenly quickened. Across from him, Nao saw that he wasn't answering and thought he was hesitating, so he asked calmly,
"Not enough time? If you need more, I can try to buy you—"
"It's enough! It's enough, Vice Admiral!"
Tiger hurriedly waved his hands, his lips trembling with emotion. He dropped to one knee, about to kneel in gratitude, but Nao had already nodded slightly.
"That's fine, then. Don't waste time—change course immediately."
Leaving those words behind—
In the next instant, Nao's entire figure turned into a flash of pale-blue lightning that shot straight into the sky and vanished from sight.
"He… he just left?"
The slaves all looked up, dazed, staring at the fading streak of blue light.
"Brother Tiger…"
One slow-witted young man, still not quite understanding, asked blankly, "That Vice Admiral White Dragon… does that mean he's letting us go?"
"Idiot, of course he is!"
The rabbit-eared girl nearby vigorously rubbed his head, laughing happily:
"That man has been my idol since I was little! I knew it—he'd never follow the World Government's orders to do something like that!"
The boy, his head spinning from the rubbing, still wasn't entirely sure and looked eagerly at Fisher Tiger.
Only when Fisher Tiger smiled and nodded did it sink in.
"Awesome!"
The boy couldn't contain his joy—he jumped three feet into the air and waved his arms, shouting,
"Wahoo! We're really safe now! We escaped for good! Dad! Mom! I can finally come home and see you again!"
His voice was like a spark that ignited the entire deck.
The momentary silence broke into an uproar of celebration.
These poor souls—who had barely escaped from hell itself—had held their breath ever since Nao appeared. They'd been ready to fight to the death, ready to face despair one last time.
But never had they imagined that the ending would be this—salvation instead of slaughter.
Some laughed and clapped each other on the shoulders, others closed their eyes and wept in silent gratitude, praying for the young Vice Admiral who had saved them.
Those who had been enslaved for years and knew little of the outside world began asking their more informed companions about Nao's deeds—about what kind of man he truly was.
Finally, Fisher Tiger raised his right hand to quiet them.
"All right, everyone. I understand how you feel—but let's save the celebration until we're truly safe."
He swept his gaze across the crowd and said in a deep, steady voice,
"You all heard what Mr. White Dragon said. Time is short—this isn't the moment to start another feast!"
"That's right, Brother Tiger! We can't delay—let's move now!"
"Mr. White Dragon came here alone. He must already be under enormous pressure. We have to clear this area within the hour—if anything unexpected happens, no matter what, we can't cause him more trouble!"
"Change course—full speed ahead!"
Meanwhile, in a quiet corner—
Hancock still stood there, staring at the distant sky where the pale-blue light had vanished. Her mind was filled with the image of Nao's face, his voice, his gentle smile.
She… she had really seen him.
After so many years of disappointment and broken hopes, finally seeing her idol—the one she had admired for so long—felt unreal, like a dream she might wake from at any moment.
A few moments later—
The sudden lurch of the ship as it turned made seawater splash up along the hull, snapping her back to reality.
She instinctively reached into her arms—
but found nothing there.
Only then did she remember—
she had torn that precious photograph to pieces.
Regret flooded her, and she stomped her feet again and again, eyes brimming with frustration.
Hancock, you fool, what have you done!
How could you tear up the photo?
...
Meanwhile—
In the southwestern Sea Area 23,
a Marine warship was sailing lazily across the ocean—
its speed so slow, it looked more like a pleasure cruise than a pursuit mission.
The officer commanding the ship was Vice Admiral Yamakaji.
At the moment, he was lounging comfortably in a wicker chair, one leg crossed over the other,
a cigar dangling from his lips as he flipped through a tattered old manga volume—
a copy of Bleach that he had shamelessly begged his old friend Aokiji to lend him.
Around him, the Marines were equally relaxed.
Some leaned on the railings chatting and yawning.
Others were doing push-ups on deck, while their comrades counted loudly and cheered them on.
A few had even set up poker games in the corners.
"Vice Admiral…"
His newly assigned adjutant couldn't take it anymore. After glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he lowered his voice and said,
"This incident shook the Holy Land itself. It's too serious. The Fleet Admiral gave strict orders — isn't… isn't this a bit too casual of a response?"
"Casual?"
Yamakaji didn't even look up, still flipping through his manga with interest.
"Not really. We marched at full speed all day yesterday, didn't we? I figured the men were tired, so I'm letting them rest for a bit."
He exhaled a puff of smoke.
"Even Marines are human. When you're tired, you rest. Perfectly reasonable, right?"
Reasonable?
Tired?
The adjutant's mouth twitched as he glanced at a group of shirtless Marines in the distance, still enthusiastically doing thousands of push-ups.
He sighed, finally realizing his superior's stance, and decided not to argue further.
Then suddenly—
A "buru-buru-buru" sound came from his pocket.
Startled, the adjutant quickly answered the transponder snail. After listening for a few moments, his expression turned grave.
"Yes, understood."
"I'll relay the message to Vice Admiral Yamakaji immediately."
He hung up, turned toward his superior, and said seriously,
"Vice Admiral, Headquarters just sent new orders. Based on intelligence, a suspicious large ship was sighted near Sea Area 30. We're to proceed northeast immediately and assist in the interception."
"Then let's go."
Yamakaji exhaled another smoke ring, flipped a page, and muttered with mild surprise,
"Ho—so Byakuya Kuchiki's actually that handsome? Hmph, still not quite as good-looking as me though…"
He clearly wasn't taking it seriously.
The adjutant gave a strained smile and went off to deliver the order.
The warship took half a day to slowly change course, continuing at this geriatric tour group pace, crawling sluggishly towards the northeast.
"Oh, right."
Hearing the adjutant's returning footsteps, Yamakaji spoke up casually:
"Those orders you mentioned — were they from Headquarters, or from White Dragon?"
"They were from Mr. Nao, sir."
"…Hm?"
Yamakaji froze mid-puff.
For the first time, he set his manga aside, stood up, and began pacing thoughtfully.
"What's wrong, Vice Admiral?" the adjutant asked, confused. "Does… does it make a difference?"
"Orders are orders, right? Whether from Headquarters or from him, what's the difference?"
After a moment of silence, Yamakaji seemed to realize something.
He sat back down, grinning as he clenched his cigar between his teeth.
"Pass down the order — full speed ahead. Head northeast immediately. This is critical — no delays allowed."
"Yes, sir!"
The adjutant turned to leave, then froze mid-step.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he spun back around.
"Eh? Wh—what?! FULL SPEED?!"
...
On another warship—
Vice Admiral Barker, a seasoned officer in his fifties, stood by the railing, stroking his beard, his face dark with anger as he glared at the Captain reporting in front of him.
"Fifteen speedboats were sent out at noon, and it's been nearly ten hours now—yet not a single one has reported back with any useful information?!"
"Y-yes, Vice Admiral," the balding Captain, trembling, pushed up his glasses and answered, steeling himself. "Everyone's doing their best to search. We plan to expand the reconnaissance area—by dawn at the latest, we'll definitely have some updates. Please, sir, try not to worry too much—"
"Dawn?"
Barker's eyes flared with fury. He slammed his palm against the railing with a thunderous clang! and roared,
"Idiot! There are five Vice Admirals leading operations right now! If we wait until dawn, someone else will beat us to it—and by then it'll be too damn late! You understand that, right?!"
"U-understand."
The poor Captain was sprayed with spit but didn't even dare wipe his face. "There are still six lifeboats aboard, Vice Admiral. I'll send them all out immediately and urge the others to report faster. We'll make sure—"
"Should've done that from the start!"
Barker waved him off impatiently. "Go, now!"
"Yes, sir!"
The balding Captain saluted smartly and turned to leave—without the slightest trace of resentment.
He'd served under Barker for years and understood why his superior was acting so desperate.
Barker was a firm believer in absolute justice, cold and ruthless to the core. Because of his personality and ideals, he had long been at odds with many of the top brass at Marine Headquarters.
And ever since that brilliant "White Dragon" Nao had risen to fame and changed the entire Marine's direction, Barker's influence had only declined further.
Now, with the new Fleet Admiral Veil freshly appointed, this mission was his one chance to turn things around—to reclaim relevance and prove his worth.
Capturing this target first would be crucial to his comeback.
"Report, Vice Admiral! Urgent orders from Vice Admiral White Dragon!"
Before the Captain could take more than a few steps, a brigadier officer rushed out of the communications room, out of breath.
"Sir! The Thunderhawk has reportedly spotted a possible target and is pursuing toward Sea Area 35 northeast! To prevent the enemy from looping back, White Dragon orders us to move immediately to guard the southwest, to block any potential escape routes!"
"I see."
Barker's face twisted into a scowl, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Reply to White Dragon—tell him we'll head southwest at once. He needn't worry."
"Yes, sir!"
The communications officer hurried off to relay the message.
Meanwhile, the balding Captain hesitated, glancing toward his superior.
"Vice Admiral… are we really going to the southwest…?"
"Go my ass!"
Barker sneered, his voice full of contempt.
"'Guard the southwest'? 'Prevent escapes'? Hah! Who's he kidding? Those slaves escaping his hands? Impossible!"
He spat over the railing.
"He just wants to keep the spoils for himself—won't even share a sip of soup with me!"
"The northeastern Sea Area 35…" the Captain murmured after a pause, frowning. "If I recall, that's actually closer to our current position. Sir, could it be that you intend to…"
"Of course we're going there!" Barker's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam.
"Pass my order—the ship is to turn immediately and head northeast at full speed!"
He smirked coldly.
"That White Dragon kid's already got more than enough glory to his name. This time, it's my turn to shine before the Fleet Admiral!"
...
Night finally fell.
Aboard the Thunder Hawk—
"Vice Admiral."
Momonga looked up from the stack of documents and files, smiling.
"We can ensure there are no problems now. The other nine warships and hundreds of reconnaissance speedboats have all been diverted. Those slaves can break through smoothly all the way."
"Well done," Nao said quietly.
Nao was writing casually at the desk across from them. When he heard the report, he looked up with a faint smile.
"Smart strategy — as expected of Headquarters' top tactician. This kind of thing really is your specialty."
"Ah, it's nothing, really."
Though Momonga's heart bloomed with pride at Nao's rare praise, his face remained modest as he waved his hands.
"Vice Admiral Yamakaji and the others will surely cooperate with you willingly. The only troublesome one… is probably that old bastard Barker."
"Barker… hmph."
From the side, Onigumo snorted coldly.
"A piece of trash like that should've retired long ago. Can't believe he's managed to hang on to a Vice Admiral's seat all these years."
"I heard that guy did plenty of despicable things in his day — for the sake of quick promotions and achievements. He even shelled civilians just to wipe out pirates faster, and didn't care if his own men died in the process!"
The more he spoke, the angrier he grew, until he spat to the side in disgust.
"Just thinking about him makes me sick. I swear, if that bastard ever ends up under my command and screws up, I'll make sure he pays for it!"
Momonga chuckled and shook his head helplessly.
Nao, however, gave Onigumo a strange look.
Cold-blooded justice, absolute justice, more extreme than even Akainu himself…
He couldn't help but think that this man — Onigumo — would probably never realize that, in another parallel world, he'd taken the exact same path.
Then Nao's gaze softened, and he smiled faintly.
After all, years under his command had changed Onigumo a great deal.
But truth be told, that change had begun much earlier — seven years ago, on that sunny afternoon, when this proud man first challenged him out of arrogance. From that moment, Onigumo's fate had already diverged toward a very different future.
"By the way, Vice Admiral," Onigumo said curiously, leaning over before Nao could speak again, "what exactly are you writing there? A mission report? A letter to someone…?"
"Eh…"
Nao lazily lifted his left hand and pushed Onigumo's face away, wagging a finger with a mysterious smile.
"This—can't show you yet."
"But in a few days," he added with a hint of amusement, "you'll all find out what it is."
"Tch, all mysterious and secretive…"
Onigumo grumbled under his breath, but before he could say anything else, a voice suddenly shouted from behind:
"Vice Admiral! Look over there — Fisher Tiger and the others! Their ships… they've all stopped moving!"
"Hm?"
Both Momonga and Onigumo froze, quickly hurrying over to the railing.
To ensure everything went smoothly, Nao had not only sent the surrounding Marine ships elsewhere, but the Thunder Hawk had also been following quietly at a distance, tailing the slave fleet through the southwestern sea — ready to escort them safely until dawn before withdrawing.
But now—
Dawn was just beginning to break, and they were preparing to pull back soon…
when suddenly, all the ships in the distance had stopped completely.
From afar, it looked as though everyone aboard had gathered at the stern, for some unknown reason.
...
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