Listening to Borsalino's lazy, drawn-out words, Raleigh felt the final puzzle piece slam into place.
It wasn't a comfortable realization.
'Oh,' he thought, his stomach dropping. 'So that's how it is.'
Raleigh was, however, 100% sure of one thing: the World Government was planning to make an issue out of him.
He probably wasn't even their main target.
No, they were going to use him to accomplish something else.
"This is mentally exhausting," he grumbled out loud to the empty deck.
He hadn't used his brain this hard in... well, ever, if he could help it.
Suddenly having to engage in high-level deduction was proving to be a real pain.
He sighed, rubbing his temples, and pulled out his Den Den Mushi.
He needed to talk to someone competent.
Click.
"Momonga, it's me," Raleigh said, cutting straight to the chase. "I think I've figured out some things, but I don't have the complete logic yet. It's messy. For now, your only job is keeping Bell-mère safe and out of sight. Got it? By the way, is Zephyr with you?"
"Yeah, he is," Momonga replied, his voice tinny. "Should Zephyr-sensei be informed about this?"
Raleigh let out a short, bark-like laugh.
"Heh, it's fine if Zephyr-sensei knows. In fact, I suspect his reason for coming to the East Blue isn't so simple either. Think about it. A high-ranking officer, an Admiral, not capturing pirates on the Grand Line but instead going to the East Blue to find you? That in itself is totally illogical."
He hung up, the call helping him piece together another part of the puzzle.
No wonder.
No wonder Zephyr, who should have been guarding the Grand Line or sitting at headquarters, had suddenly and quietly appeared in the East Blue.
A man of his rank couldn't just take a vacation.
Every move they make is monitored by the World Government.
Under normal procedures, he would have reported his travel plans.
Then, a marine base in the East Blue would have provided him with a large fleet, a full escort, the whole nine yards.
But right now? Zephyr just had an adjutant.
No fleet, no soldiers, no fanfare.
No matter how you looked at it, it was sketchy.
Raleigh leaned back against the ship's railing.
"So, the Headquarters already guessed," he muttered.
Raleigh estimated that the Headquarters had also guessed that the World Government might use the incident of the Royal Guard's massacre as apretext to take action against the Marines.
The economic sanctions mentioned in therecent phone call also made Raleigh think about the Marine's military fundingissues.
Any evidence—even the slightest, most fabricated trace—connecting Raleigh to the Mad Blade Pirates.
The moment they had that, it would immediately serve as grounds to target the entire Marines.
"See? Their officers are colluding with pirates! They're corrupt! We have to cut their funding, replace their leadership..."
CP9's focus on him wasn't because they actually had evidence.
They had already mentally designated Raleigh as the scapegoat.
He was the one they had chosen to burn.
Evidence could be fabricated later or "uncovered" over time.
"Damn it," Raleigh spat. "Seems like my head just happens to meet their standards."
It all made a sick kind of sense.
Initially, CP9 probably had a whole list of potential targets, including Duncan, the commander of Branch 127.
But after Steele (the CP9 agent) had systematically eliminated the others, only Bell-mère and Raleigh's group remained.
Bell-mère's rank was too low.
Using a random soldier wouldn't be convincing to the world.
But Raleigh? A former Captain, a Base Commander, a freshly-minted Rear Admiral... his head was just the right size.
Perfect for their purposes.
Moreover, CP intelligence probably told them Raleigh had few close connections.
He wasn't part of some big, powerful Marine family.
Apart from his lazy-ass brother Borsalino and his buddy Momonga, he didn't have a network among the higher-ups.
They figured, 'Even if Raleigh were to be convicted, the Marines wouldn't react too violently.'
They thought he was just an ordinary, if talented, officer.
The irony was staggering.
Not even Steele, the CP9 agent hunting for a scapegoat, had anticipated that, by sheer, dumb coincidence, they had stumbled upon the real mastermind behind the whole damn massacre.
They were trying to frame him for a crime he had actually committed.
"It's utterly unscientific," he grumbled, feeling extremely irritated.
He wanted to overthrow the World Government, sure.
But he was just getting started!
He was planting trees, building barracks, trying to enjoy his "retirement," and already the World Government had its eyes on his crystal.
He had no intention of running.
Deserting the Marines to become a pirate was out. And joining the Revolutionary Army? Please.
Although Dragon's departure was a secret, Borsalino had gossiped about it once.
Monkey D. Dragon had gone to God Valley, seen... something... and changed.
A few months later, he was gone.
Raleigh knew Dragon had now established his "Freedom Fighter Army."
It was a joke.
As Dragon traveled the seas, he was gathering the people who would later become the Revolutionary Army, but right now?
Thinking of Belo Betty, sleeping soundly in the cabin below, Raleigh almost smirked.
If she hadn't met him, she'd most likely have been picked up by Dragon and become the future East Blue Army Commander.
In Raleigh's eyes, the current Freedom fighter Army was even worse than pirates.
They were like a makeshift theater troupe.
They had no revolutionary program, no clear goals, and no catchy slogans.
It was just a loose alliance of people disillusioned with the world, gathered by Dragon's charisma.
No way.
Raleigh was not deserting to join that mess.
He stroked his chin.
"Since the situation is this awkward... it might be better to just talk to the old men about it."
Let the higher-ups in the Marines handle whatever comes next.
"Anyway, I'm a marine man for life," he shrugged. "Death? Impossible! As long as the Marines can protect me, I'll keep slacking off right here. If they really can't... well, I'll just slip away and figure something else out. There are still many years ahead."
What Raleigh lacked least was time.
He had plenty of it.
He pulled out the Den Den Mushi he'd just used and dialed his brother again.
Buru buru...
"Ooooooh, what is it now, Raaaaleigh?"
"Hey, bro," Raleigh said, injecting as much boredom into his voice as possible.
"So, funny story. Momonga just called. Says the World Government is investigating my records. Something about that Mad Blade Pirates thing. CP9 is involved. Can you, like, pass that up to the higher-ups?"
With a free messenger available, he couldn't be bothered to argue with the top brass himself.
Besides, Raleigh didn't even need to think to guess what solution the higher-ups would come up with.
They'd definitely transfer him to the Headquarters.
The thought of going to HQ made Raleigh scratch his head irritably.
"Ugh."
In the Four Seas, there weren't many high-ranking officials.
Here, he was the boss.
But at headquarters... he'd have a pile of superiors above him.
Vice Admirals, Admirals, Fleet Admiral... Even if they had no direct connection to him, just thinking about all those people bossing him around was annoying.
Back when he graduated, aside from wanting to build his own power, he'd just been utterly fed up with the leaders above him.
They'd come over every single day to lecture him.
'Raleigh, you have so much potential! Raleigh, why are you napping? Raleigh, be serious!'
Even if he didn't listen, they couldn't stop preaching, like they enjoyed playing teacher.
It was like their life's goal was to educate a slacker like him, just so they could brag about it.
Thinking about it, what Garp did made perfect sense.
Hold the title of "Hero" as a Vice Admiral.
Everyone had to show him respect.
But don't become an Admiral.
That way, he didn't have to stay at headquarters or babysit the Celestial Dragons.
He just took the "Capture Roger" mission and set off.
Drifting around the sea all day, no one really knew if he was working or not.
It was the perfect gig.
Getting paid by the company for "field work" without anyone checking his results.
He could just turn in a few small-time pirates and call it a day, then go wherever he wanted.
Raleigh sighed.
That was the dream.
Garp's freedom, without all the Garp-level work.
And a transfer to HQ was the exact opposite of that dream.
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