"So, putting aside those concerns, who would you truly recommend from the bottom of your heart?"
Garp's crunching of senbei abruptly stopped, the senbei still dangling from the corner of his mouth, and his usually somewhat lazy eyes lit up.
This question, indeed, piqued his interest. He never bothered with these convoluted matters... but he was always curious about Sengoku's choices.
Hearing this, Sengoku leaned his hands on the cold desk, his knuckles gently tapping the surface, his brows slightly furrowed as he fell into deep thought.
Only the faint sound of the sea breeze rustling the flagpole outside the window remained in the hall, and the salty aroma of senbei gradually faded, replaced by a sense of solemnity.
After a long while, he let out a heavy sigh, his voice filled with an undisguised weariness:
"Sakazuki... he is too much like my younger self. The same absolute obedience to military orders, the same hatred for evil, unable to tolerate even a speck of pirate filth in his eyes, single-mindedly determined to end that damned Pirate Era, and even... delusionally wishing to eradicate all evil in this world."
As he spoke the last few words, his voice trailed off, tinged with self-mockery.
Then, he slumped back into the Fleet Admiral's chair, his broad shoulders slightly slouched—this chair, which had borne countless burdens, he would not be sitting in for much longer.
"But as you've seen,"
Sengoku said, his eyes downcast, his tone full of powerlessness,
"I've toiled my whole life, only to achieve nothing in the end. Pirates still run rampant, evil has never ceased, and so-called 'Justice' has never truly illuminated the seas."
He looked up at Garp, his gaze complex:
"I don't know if, by letting Sakazuki sit in this position, he will repeat my mistakes? Will he, in the end, also be left with nothing but weariness and unwillingness?"
"What about Kuzan?"
Garp scratched his messy hair, his face full of confusion.
So choosing a Fleet Admiral involved so many intricacies; a brute like him, whose mind only contained beating pirates and eating senbei, truly didn't understand how profound a "Tactical Genius's" thoughts could be.
"Kuzan?"
Sengoku muttered the name, and couldn't help but recall the man who always wore a loose coat and dared to sleep on the floor even in serious meeting rooms. The corner of his mouth twitched, his voice tinged with a sense of disappointment in someone who fails to live up to expectations,
"If he still acts so perfunctory and goes with the flow after becoming Fleet Admiral... he's probably out of the running!"
The Marine Fleet Admiral bears the weight of the entire world, the lives of countless Marine soldiers; how could there be any room for sloppiness?
"However—"
Sengoku's tone suddenly shifted, his eyes sharpening instantly,
"If Kuzan can find himself in this position, no longer be enveloped by confused, and can truly shoulder the responsibility of 'Justice,' no longer wavering... then the Marine may truly have a different, better future."
As soon as he finished speaking, his sharp, hawk-like eyes suddenly fixed on Garp, who was leisurely swinging his legs, with a profound, scrutinizing gaze:
"Speaking of which, if you could properly teach Kuzan and straighten out his uncertainty, wouldn't there be so much less trouble?"
Garp was stunned, then grinned:
"You know my teaching methods!"
Sengoku didn't reply, but his mind was clear.
Akainu's ability to contend with Aokiji was seven parts due to the Gorosei's strong support.
After all, Sakazuki's "Absolute Justice" appealed most to those in power.
The remaining three parts came from the support of grassroots Marine soldiers and veteran hawkish generals.
After all, Akainu had been stationed in the most dangerous New World for years, constantly confronting the Four Emperors and battling various heinous pirates in countless major and minor skirmishes.
In terms of seniority and military achievements alone, he had enough to propel a complete novice to the rank of Admiral, let alone a Fleet Admiral candidate.
In contrast, Aokiji seemed to be just coasting along.
Most of the time, he wandered around the Paradise area, occasionally handling pirate incidents. His achievements weren't entirely absent, but compared to Akainu, they were worlds apart.
The public's eyes are sharp, and even more so are the hearts of those within the Marine.
Who would pass over a "model worker" who constantly shed blood and diligently worked, only to support a "slacker" who always seemed careless and detached?
The shadow of the Fleet Admiral's chair fell across Sengoku's face, making his expression even harder to discern.
This struggle for Fleet Admiral was never just a contest between two people; it was a clash of two types of justice, a choice for the future direction of the Marine... "What about Borsalino?!"
Garp suddenly raised a hand to pick his nose, a mischievous smile spreading across his rugged face, as if he had recalled some immense joke.
He abruptly leaned closer to Sengoku, his stubble-covered face almost touching the other's, his breath carrying a faint salty scent of senbei, and after a moment of thought, he said:
"If I remember correctly, when you were still an Admiral, that guy was your subordinate, right?"
"What's wrong, now you're turning your back on him and don't even want to mention the possibility of him becoming Fleet Admiral? That's a bit too heartless!"
"—Garp!!"
As soon as the name "Borsalino" was uttered, Sengoku reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling.
In the previously solemn office, faint golden electric arcs suddenly erupted, intertwined with a hint of black-red Haoshoku intimidation.
The edges of the tables and chairs trembled slightly from this invisible aura, and even the air seemed to solidify somewhat.
His face was as black as a pot, veins throbbing on his forehead, and as he spoke, spittle flew, his voice filled with barely suppressed fury:
"You actually think that lazy good-for-nothing has the qualifications to be Marine Fleet Admiral?!"
"The biggest regret of my life was being blind for a moment back then and letting that slacker become my subordinate!"
What is a subordinate?
It's a right-hand man who can share the main commander's worries, handle tedious tasks, and a reliable backup who can stabilize the situation even when the main commander is absent.
But just thinking of Borsalino made Sengoku's temples throb, and scenes from back then automatically replayed in his mind—
In the meeting room, he was frantically dealing with a pile of urgent documents, only to turn and see his subordinate leaning back in his chair, eyes half-closed, his voice drawling:
"Kowai ne, this work is like a monster? It's too troublesome~"
During a pirate pursuit mission briefing, he emphasized the urgency of the operation, but Borsalino slowly adjusted his gloves, casually saying,
"Ma~ In the end, it'll probably get resolved anyway,"
which was enough to make anyone choke with anger.
Over the years, that guy, relying on the speed of the Glint-Glint Fruit and his top-tier strength, always maintained an attitude of "it's not my business, I'll slack off if I can" whenever something happened. He fought pirates purely based on his mood, and handled official business purely through procrastination, truly a useless slacker.
Whether Aokiji or Akainu was chosen as Fleet Admiral, at least they both had clear codes of conduct, and the foundation of the Marine wouldn't be shaken; the outcome still had suspense.
But if Borsalino truly sat in the Fleet Admiral's seat... Sengoku closed his eyes, almost able to foresee the future:
Within three months, all urgent documents would be piled up on the Fleet Admiral's Desk gathering dust, pirate encirclement missions would be repeatedly postponed due to his "trouble-aversion," Marine internal directives would be chaotic, morale would plummet, and the entire system would undoubtedly come to a complete halt!
By then, either the Gorosei would forcibly intervene, or internal dissatisfaction would erupt within the Marine, Borsalino would definitely be dismissed, and they would have to choose a new Fleet Admiral again.
—Pure waste of effort, just making a laughingstock of themselves!
Thinking of this, Sengoku's anger flared even more, and he glared at Garp:
"Don't mention that scoundrel! Giving the Marine to him is worse than directly handing it over to pirates to rule!"