Are good and evil in human nature innate—or shaped by the world around us?
That question had no single answer.
On a grand scale, it touched on law, morality, philosophy—entire systems of thought.
But one truth always held:
Every pitiful soul has something hateful in them.
And every hateful soul hides a trace of sorrow.
Brian had long since abandoned the man he once was—his name, his memories, his ideals.
He would live now only by his own will.
He would seize the world through power and cunning, and bend it beneath his hand.
He would beg from no one, bow to no one.
Because this world—was a world ruled by the strong.
Watching Brian's retreating back, Vice Admiral Orton fell silent for a long time.
He didn't understand what connection that "boy" in Brian's story had to him, nor how to respond to such bitterness—but he understood one thing:
Brian wasn't mad with greed.
He was calm, rational, calculating.
And that terrified Orton more than anything.
Because he knew—such a man could never be redeemed.
Brian's heart had long since turned from the light.
"The time's almost up, old man," Brian said finally. "I've said what I needed to say. If you don't want to stand in my way, go home. But if you insist on being Kong and Sengoku's errand dog—then all you'll achieve is making me feel guilty for a few days. Nothing more."
He brushed away the last trace of tears without expression, turned, and walked back toward his warship without looking back.
Orton could only sigh—a deep, weary sound that seemed to age him years in that moment.
He watched as Brian's ship sailed off toward the Calm Belt, shrinking into the horizon.
At last, he reached for his Den Den Mushi and called Headquarters.
"This is Orton… Tell Fleet Admiral Kong I'm sorry. I'm getting too old for this. I'm retiring."
"Wait, Orton—" Kong's voice came through, sharp with surprise, but before he could finish, the line went dead.
Orton gave the order to turn back. His warship set a new course—one that drifted ever farther from Brian's.
Crossing the Calm Belt in an old West Blue warship was a near-suicidal challenge.
The ship's steam engines provided propulsion where there was no wind—but their thunderous churning noise might as well have been a dinner bell for the Sea Kings lurking below.
"Sir! Something's ramming the hull!"
"Look over there—Sea Kings! Huge ones!"
"Damn it, there's too many of them!"
Every man aboard Brian's ship was an elite—his personal troops, veterans he had trained for nearly a year, hardened by dozens of battles.
They feared no pirate fleet. But this—this endless swarm of colossal Sea Kings—made even the bravest pale.
Then one massive creature surfaced, its horned head rising like a mountain of flesh. It opened its jaws wide, aiming to swallow the warship whole—
"Presumptuous."
Brian's cold eyes met the beast's.
The Sea King froze mid-lunge—then let out a guttural wail and dove back beneath the waves.
"Get lost," Brian said quietly.
His gaze swept the ocean.
Every Sea King that dared breach the surface vanished beneath the waves, terrified into silence.
For a long moment, the crew stood in stunned awe.
Then, one by one, they began to cheer.
"Long live Lord Brian!"
"Long live Lord Brian!"
"Long live Lord Brian!"
When Brian finally returned to Marineford, he went straight to Headquarters—to face Kong and Sengoku.
Along the way, he drew countless hostile stares. The giant vice admirals in particular glared at him like they'd tear him limb from limb if given half a chance.
Inside Kong's office, the air was thick with tension.
Sengoku was there, along with Garp, Zephyr, and Tsuru. All of them seemed to have been waiting for him.
The moment Brian stepped in, Zephyr snorted coldly, scowling with open disgust.
Kong spoke first. His voice was calm, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.
"Brian, are you aware that Astona was rescued from the governor's dungeons by the smuggler Gerard, and that together they slaughtered two rear admirals, twenty-one captains, and numerous marines?"
Brian could hear the anger barely restrained behind that composed tone.
He answered crisply, "No. I wasn't aware."
"Brian!" Zephyr slammed the table, rising to his feet. "You still refuse to admit it?!"
"Admit what, exactly?"
"Don't play dumb! The killing of Karl—and the massacre at the West Blue Governor's Office!"
Brian spread his hands, calm as ever. "Not my doing. Why would I admit to something I didn't do? And may I remind you—Astona's… situation is something of my own handiwork. I crushed his hopes of ever having children. Do you honestly think he'd ever work for me? Or that I'd trust him to?"
He looked from one face to another, eyes gleaming.
"Or do you have proof that it was me?"
A beat of silence.
That question hit like a hammer.
Because the truth was—they didn't.
Brian was the prime suspect. He had motive, opportunity, and the most to gain.
But without solid evidence, it was all speculation.
Astona and Gerard had vanished completely after the attack, leaving nothing behind. No witnesses, no trail.
And everyone in the room knew—Brian's boldness came from certainty.
Certainty that the Five Elders would shield him.
When no one spoke, Brian gave a theatrical shrug.
"Well, I do sympathize with the victims, of course. But this is a world of law, isn't it? Everything must be handled fairly, with due process. That's justice, isn't it… Professor Zephyr?"
That smug tone—that smile—made Zephyr's blood boil.
"You… you bastard! Get out!" he roared.
"Of course," Brian said smoothly. "Just… calm yourself, Professor. It's bad for your health to get this worked up."
He left his chair with an easy smile—knowing full well that every word only stoked the fire further.
Zephyr, honest and upright to a fault, could barely restrain himself from striking the boy down.
Sengoku, sensing the danger, cleared his throat. "That's enough. Brian, go to your post. You're dismissed."
"Understood," Brian said lightly. He headed for the door, but before stepping out, he paused and turned back.
"If it's possible," he said with a disarming grin, "I'd like to organize a dinner sometime. To build some camaraderie, you know—clear up any misunderstandings between us."
"Enough!"
The outburst came not from Zephyr this time, but from Kong himself.
His voice cracked like thunder. "You'll stay in Headquarters and behave yourself! No more of your games!"
Brian blinked, then smiled faintly. "As you wish, Fleet Admiral. I'll just go catch up with my old friend… Dorag."
He stepped out the door, hands in his pockets.
"Bastard! Stop right there!"
Garp shot to his feet, ready to charge after him—but Sengoku and Kong caught him by the arms, holding him back as the door swung shut behind Brian.
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