Sabo was breathing slightly as he said urgently, "The Marines have fully sealed off the key routes around the Sabaody Archipelago. Material transport and movement of personnel are both trapped.
"And worse, the massive fleets of the Four Emperors are moving aggressively toward Paradise. The towns they've passed along the way… have all suffered severe damage."
"There's no time."
Dragon's voice was low and powerful, rolling through the empty command room like muffled thunder.
His arm slowly rose, then swept down hard.
In an instant, the situation on the sand table changed completely.
Black flags representing the Revolutionary Army quietly emerged from the shadows. Like a silent and unbreakable line of defense, they stood firmly in the path of the spreading flames of war, holding up a piece of sky for the innocent lives caught in the disaster.
"Sabo, notify all army commanders immediately."
There was an authority in Dragon's eyes that allowed no argument. His finger moved steadily across the sand table before landing heavily on several vital islands.
"The Eastern Army, Western Army, Southern Army, and Northern Army are to enter first-level combat readiness. Make full preparations to receive refugees fleeing from the war zones."
Sabo did not dare delay. He quickly picked up a pen and began recording the leader's instructions at high speed.
As he wrote, he frowned slightly and asked with concern, "Leader, the situation is extremely urgent. Medical resources may become critically scarce. Should we contact the Okama King? Our medical units may not be able to handle casualties on this scale…"
"Have Ivankov activate the Shelter Plan immediately."
Dragon gave the order decisively, then shifted his gaze toward a lone island at the edge of the sand table.
A small flag stood there, looking lonely under the light, yet filled with strength.
Dragon continued, "Also notify Belo Betty. Her Pump-Pump Fruit ability will be crucial for helping civilians survive in desperate situations.
"She must use her power to ignite hope in people's hearts and give them the courage to keep moving through the darkness."
Outside the window, a blood-red dawn gradually spread across the distant horizon.
Dawn should have symbolized a new beginning and hope, but against the backdrop of smoke and war, it looked especially harsh and tragic.
Sabo carefully put away the documents and turned to leave, but his steps suddenly paused.
After hesitating for a moment, he gathered his courage and asked, "Leader, if the Marines and the Four Emperors truly go to all-out war, what kind of situation will we face?"
Dragon's cloak moved without wind, snapping softly as if voicing the ambition in his heart.
The corner of his mouth, hidden in shadow, lifted slightly into a confident and resolute smile.
He slowly raised his hand and pressed it against the center of the sand table.
At that moment, every black flag stood upright at the same time, fluttering as though declaring their resolve to the world.
Dragon's voice was firm and powerful.
"The storm of the era has already risen, and we are the harbor within that storm. No matter how many hardships wait ahead, we will stand here and protect those who need protection."
After a slight pause, Dragon's eyes grew even deeper.
"At the same time, keep a close watch on the Eternal Divine Kingdom's movements. If necessary… we can consider cooperating with them to face this unprecedented crisis."
...
The dark night of the New World was torn apart by the buzzing of countless encrypted Transponder Snails.
"Raise the interest rate by three hundred percent—no, five hundred percent!"
The red wine glass in the hand of Du Feld, the Loan Shark King, shattered across the gilded floor. Behind him, his accounting team frantically worked their abacuses.
Inside the holographic projection, purchase lists from Marine Headquarters kept appearing one after another.
Two hundred thousand sets of individual combat equipment.
Five thousand new ship-mounted cannons.
A stockpile of ammunition enough to support thirty consecutive Buster Calls…
"These madmen are starting a war that will hollow out the world."
He licked his gold tooth, then suddenly grinned.
"Contact the underground banks now! From this moment on, all war bonds are to be priced at 'Four Emperor-level risk'!"
...
Somewhere on the Grand Line, the Shipping King Umit was busily directing his flagship, the Black Tide.
The enormous ship was carrying out a special task.
It was tearing away every merchant-ship marking, preparing for an unprecedented operation at sea.
On the deck, sailors were busily painting massive red-cross symbols onto the hull.
Those red crosses were not only for disguise. At a critical moment, they could also draw rescue forces toward them.
Meanwhile, medical teams wearing gas masks were counting box after box of anesthetics, supplies that would play an important role in the battles to come.
Umit stood beside the helm, rubbing the gem-studded wheel, his eyes firm and deep.
From the communicator came a cold encrypted order from the CP department, instructing him to raise the World Government flag if he encountered a Marine fleet, and raise the flag of the Whitebeard remnants if he ran into an Emperor fleet.
But Umit did not fully follow those instructions.
He understood better than most how complicated and unpredictable this world had become.
Suddenly, he kicked over a medical crate. Glass bottles rolled across the deck, producing crisp notes that sounded like death.
Everyone present was shocked and confused by his action.
But Umit only said coldly, "Idiots! What's the use of hoarding bandages now? Go buy artificial-organ production lines!"
His words left everyone even more confused, but they also revealed his sharp understanding of the current situation and the firm resolve behind his future plans.
Deeper in the darkness, a chilling atmosphere lingered.
This place felt like land cursed by evil, silent yet hiding endless sin and greed.
The refrigerated warehouse owned by Gibson the "Organ Dealer" was now slowly releasing strange white smoke.
The smoke was no ordinary vapor. It twisted and coiled as if alive, carrying an indescribably eerie and sinister feeling.
The warehouse doors were tightly shut, yet they could not stop the sharp smell from seeping through the cracks, mixing with the cold air and making people shiver.
Inside the warehouse, assistants in white coats moved busily and orderly as they carried out their unspeakable work.
Their eyes were hollow and cold, as though they had long since lost their humanity and conscience.
They carried large buckets filled with preservatives and poured the liquid mercilessly into enormous cultivation tanks one after another.
Hearts soaked in formalin floated faintly inside the clear liquid, rising and falling with the movement of the fluid like grapes.