"I suppose my guesses were a bit conservative."
Nao shrugged, pointing upward toward the sky.
"So what then… a near-Earth orbital satellite, a thousand kilometers up, with 24-hour global surveillance?"
"Or maybe every single Transponder Snail in the world is actually one of your eyes and ears—including the one I'm carrying right now?"
Imu's lips curved faintly, and she raised her index finger.
"That would be a bit exaggerated. Here—watch closely."
Hum—
The air around them suddenly trembled, and a faint shimmer seemed to wash over reality itself.
Everything before him blurred slightly, as if covered by a thin, translucent film.
Even Imu, standing just a few meters away, now appeared distant—her graceful silhouette wavering behind a rippling veil of light.
"Glub… glub…"
When Nao opened his mouth in surprise, a stream of bubbles escaped.
His expression changed instantly—he understood what that shimmering membrane really was.
Looking around, he saw it clearly now:
His entire body was trapped within a cube of seawater about five meters wide, dense and salty, pressing on his skin.
The tang, the weight, the suffocating dampness—it was unmistakably the sea.
"A Logia… Ocean-Ocean Fruit?"
Imu rested her chin lightly on her hand, clearly enjoying the shifting look on his face.
"Exactly. The Ocean-OceanFruit. If I will it, the oceans of the entire world become extensions of my Observation Haki.
Tell me, does that answer satisfy you?"
Nao didn't respond. He simply tried to thrust his hand through the watery barrier—
but it was like striking an invisible wall of steel.
Even using brute force, he couldn't break through.
"You're not the first to make it this far," Imu continued, strolling casually around the prison of water.
Her lilting voice echoed faintly in his ears.
"A pirate, five hundred years ago, ended up sealed beneath the East Blue trench.
A Marine Fleet Admiral, a century ago—he's the cute little turtle guarding the door now."
"Whether pirate or Marine, justice or freedom, they all eventually come here…
always thinking that even if they can't defeat me, they can at least escape alive."
Her smile widened—until she suddenly froze mid-sentence.
Something had changed.
Imu's head snapped toward Nao, her expression narrowing.
And then—
CRACK!
A blinding flash of blue lightning burst forth, shattering the watery cage like a bubble bursting underwater.
The roar of thunder filled the room. Shards of water glittered like molten silver as they scattered in all directions.
From within the collapsing prison, a figure stepped forward, lightning still crackling faintly around his body.
Beneath his feet, seawater streamed outward, soaking the crimson carpets and rose gardens, until the morning sunlight filtering through the glass reflected both his silhouette and Imu's calm, narrowed gaze.
For a long moment, there was silence.
Then Imu tilted her chin slightly, regarding him as though seeing him anew.
"Well, isn't this… unexpected."
Her voice was soft, almost amused.
"It seems seawater doesn't restrict you at all.
You can breathe, move freely—and even use your Devil Fruit ability."
Her dark eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"That's not something mere physiology could explain."
She paused, a faint smile returning as a cold, bluish light bloomed at her fingertip.
"This is getting more and more interesting, little one. It seems the secrets on you are far more numerous than I anticipated..."
...
BOOM!
A fierce collision suddenly reverberated through the entire Flower Room.
Blinding blue lightning erupted skyward; above the Holy Land, clouds gathered, thunder roared, and gales howled as seawater surged and boiled—
Until the entire Mary Geoise trembled as though the heavens themselves were collapsing.
"How strange…"
Outside the collapsed walls, the hunchbacked old man who had been lazily basking in the sunlight turned his head, a sharp glint of confusion flickering in his eyes.
But the next moment—feeling the growing, almost absurd intensity of the disturbance within—he sighed, shaking his head.
His frail body suddenly expanded, transforming once more into his massive turtle form.
The jagged shell on his back rose sharply, then spread outward in all directions, quickly forming an impenetrable barrier, cutting off the Flower Room from the outside world entirely.
Though I don't know how that brat managed to do it…
But in any case…
This should allow the Master to have her fun.
The giant turtle yawned, glanced lazily up at the darkened sky, then lay back down on the ground in boredom.
...
No one knows how much time passed.
Perhaps two hours, perhaps three.
It wasn't until the sun climbed to its highest point at noon, finally managing to peek out from the dark clouds, that the rumbling of the earth gradually subsided.
The thunder vanished, and the seawater receded.
The Flower Room no longer retained its former tranquility and stillness. Everywhere the eye could see were shattered walls and ruins, damp, messy, and utterly devastated.
Im, with her hair disheveled, casually untied her tattered robes and discarded them. She sat back down on the Empty Throne, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with an expressionless face.
And below the steps.
The heavily wounded Nao was half-leaning against a pillar. Even though the horrifying, monstrous wounds on his chest were rapidly healing at a terrifying speed visible to the naked eye, it couldn't hide his current state of near-death.
"Cough… cough…"
He kept coughing, his breathing sounding like a bellows. But even so, when he laboriously raised his head, he actually managed to grin at Imu... and laugh?
"Heh… hehehe…"
Crack!
With a flick of her finger, a precise water bullet pierced clean through his shoulder.
Flesh burst open, exposing white bone beneath.
"What are you laughing at?"
Imu's cold voice cut through the silence.
Even her tone now carried a hoarse edge, and the mocking amusement from before had completely vanished from her face.
Nao coughed again, his voice faint but steady.
"Laughing? Of course I'm laughing… because things turned out so much better than I expected."
He didn't seem to feel the pain at all.
Instead, his grin widened.
"You're not as strong as I thought. Not as invincible as the world believes."
"Without the ability to suppress other Devil Fruit users… even you have to fight with everything you've got—two, three hours—just to barely bring me down."
He tilted his head, eyes glinting faintly with mockery.
"Eight hundred years old… and that's all you've got?"
He struggled to lift his right hand and, facing Imu's increasingly dark expression, raised his thumb — then turned it downward, grinning broadly:
"How lame… you old hag!"
The words seemed to finally shatter Imu's composure.
Without any visible movement, a surge of seawater appeared around Nao, pouring into his open wounds, flooding his chest in an instant—
Boom!
His heart, lungs, liver, stomach, intestines, blood vessels — all burst apart.
His entire upper body was shredded, barely recognizable as human.
Yet Nao was still laughing — louder, freer, more unrestrained.
Even as his heart exploded into fragments, he jabbed his downward-pointing thumb again and again, mocking her through the gore.
Imu remained on her throne, one leg crossed over the other, expressionless as she watched the chilling, grotesque sight.
She wasn't surprised.
This scene had already played out several times during their brutal battle.
Otherwise, that boy could never have lasted from morning until noon against her.
"At first, what interested me most was your face,"
she said evenly,
"but now… I'm far more curious about your body."
"You have two choices now."
"Either you cooperate—tell me all your secrets willingly. If I'm in a good mood afterward, maybe I'll let you live. I might even keep you by my side… as a pet, or a servant."
"Or…"
Her voice turned cold.
"I kill you here and now. But don't worry about being lonely—by tomorrow, your wife, your daughter, your family and friends… will all be joining you."
"You call that a choice?"
Nao's tone was still light, and Imu's cold smile deepened—tired of his insolence.
"Well? Which is it?"
"Hmm…"
Nao tilted his head, rubbing his chin as if in thought.
After a moment, he sighed and shrugged with mock regret.
"Honestly… I don't feel like choosing either."
"In fact, I think I've got a better idea."
"Oh?"
Imu's eyes narrowed slightly, her patience wearing thin, killing intent beginning to surge.
And then—out of nowhere—Nao pulled out a small red capsule and swallowed it whole.
What is he doing?
Before Imu could react, he looked up, smiling brightly, teeth gleaming white.
"See you next time… Grandma Imu."
...
Whummm—
In the next instant, everything shattered like a bursting illusion.
A wave of indescribable distortion rippled through the world around him.
The noonday sun above was devoured by clouds; thunder rolled and dispersed; the Flower Room, Pangaea Castle — all of it receded rapidly into the distance.
The red carpet beneath his feet turned into moonlit ocean, the Red Line fading into a wavering silhouette on the horizon.
And then—clarity returned.
Nao was standing at home.
In front of him sat a stone table cluttered with dishes and bottles, where Aokiji was silently drinking.
Behind him, a swing swayed gently in the night breeze.
He was still lowering his head, checking his watch — the second hand ticking lazily past the number 12.
It was an early summer night.
Cool and quiet, fireflies glimmering faintly in the courtyard.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, the corners of his lips curled upward into a silent smile.
He turned his head toward Mary Geoise, and suddenly stood up.
"What? Where are you going?"
Aokiji — never much of a drinker — was already tipsy, and Nao's sudden movement startled him. He blinked and asked instinctively.
"Obviously, where do you think?"
Nao yawned lazily.
"It's this late already — obviously, I'm going to bed. And you? Still hanging around? Planning to freeload breakfast again tomorrow?"
He waved dismissively and walked inside without looking back.
Aokiji stared for a moment, then smacked his lips, quietly slipping the half-finished bottle of sherry into his coat. As he closed the door behind him, he muttered under his breath:
"Like you even need sleep… you'll probably shake the whole damn house apart. Always kicking people out…"
"And to think I was worried about you — thought you were drunk and crazy enough to go cause trouble up in the Holy Land…"
...
The Next Day
The protests at Marine Headquarters were still raging.
The fortress was completely surrounded, crowds shouting and waving banners.
The new Fleet Admiral, Veil, had spent a sleepless night buried in chaos, only to be furiously scolded by the Five Elders through the transponder snail.
Swallowing his pride, he finally decided to visit Nao personally to apologize — hoping to patch things up.
But he was met with a closed door.
He lingered awkwardly outside for a long time as more and more officers gathered to watch, until, humiliated, he turned and left in silence.
That night, behind those same closed doors, Nao spent the entire day quietly with his family — laughing, playing, pretending nothing had happened.
And when night fell, he left Marineford.
No ceremony. No noise. Just silence and shadow.
A Few Days Later
Headquarters was still in turmoil.
Fleet Admiral Veil, now half bald and hollow-eyed from stress, could barely think straight when the news finally broke:
Nao had officially resigned.
The story, leaked to the press, hit the front page of every major newspaper in the world.
And the seas — exploded.
Pirates. Revolutionaries. Underworld syndicates — all reacted with disbelief.
They sent spies to confirm it, and when the truth was verified, they were stunned.
The "White Dragon" — the Marine's brightest young star, hero of countless battles, the man once seen as the future of justice itself —
had left the Marines.
The impact was seismic.
Across the seas — from the Four Blues to the Grand Line and even the New World —
Marine bases erupted in mutiny.
Even Branch Commanders refused to suppress the unrest; in fact, many young officers led the protests themselves.
Furious letters of dissent flooded Marine Headquarters like a tidal wave.
Only then did everyone — both outsiders and the upper ranks — finally realize the terrifying truth:
Nao's prestige within the Marine had grown far beyond anyone's control.
And Fleet Admiral Veil?
He instantly became the scapegoat — condemned by all as the man responsible for the Marine's greatest internal crisis in decades.
...
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