At this moment, the battlefield of Marineford had already veered completely off its original course.
The Blackbeard Pirates had fled in panic, dragging their half-dead captain with them. Whether Teach would even survive was anyone's guess.
Crocodile and Buggy the Clown had led the Impel Down escapees and slipped away long ago, vanishing into the chaos the moment Whitebeard fell.
The only remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates still present were already retreating at full speed, shielding a shattered Luffy and never once looking back.
In other words—
Standing face-to-face with Marine Headquarters in the harbor now…
There was truly only the Red-Hair Pirates left.
Alone.
No allies. No buffers. No shields.
They stood by themselves against the entirety of the Navy's main force—battle-hardened, bloodied, and freshly galvanized by Gern's return.
"Shanks."
At that moment, Benn Beckman stepped forward silently, leaning close and lowering his voice to a whisper.
"We can't win."
Across from them stood the elite core of Marine Headquarters—plus the monstrous "Calamity" subordinates under Gern's command.
Numbers. Top-tier combat power. Home-field advantage. Morale.
Every category tilted overwhelmingly against them.
If a fight broke out now, the ending was predetermined.
Total annihilation.
Shanks clenched his jaw so hard it ached.
Did he not see it clearly?
Especially with Garp on the other side—fresh from the agony of losing his grandson and in desperate need of something to unleash his fury on.
There was no need to speculate.
The moment he uttered the words "we'll see this through to the end"—
Even a single syllable—
They would all die.
A cold bead of sweat slid down his temple.
His hand tightened around Gryphon's hilt… then loosened… then tightened again.
At last, his rigid shoulders dipped by the faintest fraction.
He accepted it.
The helm of the new era had already been seized firmly by Gern Reginald Sigmar.
There was no room for outside interference.
His hand began to lift from Gryphon's hilt—
Ready to swallow the humiliation and withdraw.
And then—
On the opposite side of the battlefield, among a corner piled high with broken walls and corpses—
A pink-haired boy's fingers twitched.
Slowly, painfully, he raised his head.
It was Koby.
First struck senseless by Whitebeard's soul-shaking Conqueror's Haki.
Then knocked unconscious again by Luffy's unconscious burst of the same power.
Then battered by the successive Haki clashes between Gern and the Golden Lion, his consciousness teetering at the edge of collapse again and again.
"Koby! You're finally awake!" Helmeppo called out in relief, his own face still pale with lingering fear. "It's over! The war's over! We survived!"
But Koby didn't answer.
Or rather—
He wasn't listening.
The moment his eyes opened, they locked onto the suffocating standoff at the center of the battlefield.
The Navy's overwhelming might—along with Gern's Calamities—pressed down like iron walls upon the isolated Red-Hair Pirates.
And in his half-conscious state earlier…
He had sensed it.
The chaos.
The grief.
The fury.
The murderous intent.
A thought ignited within him like wildfire.
Clear.
Burning.
Without hesitation—
Just as the Red-Hair Pirates were about to be forced into a humiliating retreat—
In that razor-thin moment of silence—
Koby exploded upward from the pile of corpses, as if some hidden reservoir of effort—two hundred times over—had ignited at once.
Helmeppo stared in stunned disbelief as Koby burst forward at the fastest speed of his life, leaving even a faint afterimage behind him.
In a blink—
He stood between Gern and Shanks.
Facing the entire upper echelon of Marine Headquarters.
He spread his arms wide.
And with every ounce of strength in his trembling body, he shouted toward Gern, toward Sengoku, toward every soldier still capable of fighting—
"Stop the war!!!"
"Don't fight anymore!!!"
"You're wasting lives!!!"
For a split second—
Gern froze.
Staring at the face that had abruptly inserted itself into his field of vision—
A face brimming with foolish courage and misplaced righteousness—
His mind blanked.
…What?
What?!
Right now, the Navy stood at the height of victory.
They held absolute military dominance.
The opposing leader was moments away from conceding and slinking off like a beaten dog.
And you—
A Navy nobody—
Jump out in front of your own side—
And shout the words the enemy captain was about to say?!
The sheer absurdity of the logic break made even Gern—renowned for his composure and control—experience a momentary cognitive stall.
A flawless net—
And he'd forgotten there was still one colossal idiot on his own side.
Meanwhile—
Shanks, who had been seconds away from conceding defeat—
Saw the pink-haired Marine.
Heard the cry of "wasting lives."
And nearly laughed out loud inside.
A gift from the heavens.
A genuine, miraculous opportunity.
The hand that had been lifting from Gryphon's hilt slammed back down with lightning speed.
His expression shifted instantly—
Back to calm.
Back to righteous composure.
Shanks seized the moment without hesitation, using Koby as the perfect pretext.
"Gern! Did you hear that?!"
"That is the Navy's true plea! Not just my own!"
His voice rang out boldly, as though he stood atop the moral high ground.
He pointed directly at Koby—who trembled violently under the sudden spotlight yet stubbornly remained standing.
"As he says!"
"This is the wish of the countless Marines here!"
Then, as if consensus had already been reached—
As if the conclusion were self-evident—
Shanks declared,
"I'll take it that you've given me that face!"
Without giving Gern time to respond—
He turned sharply and waved.
"We're leaving!"
The Red-Hair Pirates didn't hesitate.
They practically ran toward the Red Force.
The maneuver was seamless.
Borrowing force to strike.
Turning black into white.
In a single smooth motion, Shanks transformed Koby—the unexpected variable—
Into the perfect chess piece.
A dignified exit.
And even a subtle check against Gern.
Left behind—
Gern stood with a face dark as iron.
Watching the Red-Hair Pirates retreat.
Watching the trembling pink-haired idiot in front of him.
A disgusting sensation—like being force-fed something rotten—
Mixed with a surge of fury at having his grand design disrupted by a nobody.
He finally understood how Sakazuki must have felt watching that scene in the original war.
And Koby—
Seeing that his cry had "stopped" the war—
Watching the Red-Hair Pirates withdraw "in response" to his plea—
A tidal wave of achievement flooded his heart.
For the first time in his life, he felt tall.
Important.
Like the embodiment of peace.
His tears vanished.
Replaced by self-righteous conviction.
He even turned toward Gern—whose face was thunderously dark—and spoke in a tone bordering on admonishment.
"Admiral Gern, I didn't mean to cause trouble."
"But continuing this has no meaning anymore!"
"The meaning of life—you'll never understand!"
"I hope you realize that victory isn't—"
"Isn't what, you little—"
Gern didn't let him finish.
Didn't even bother.
His hand shot up.
SMACK.
The crisp, explosive crack of a slap tore across the silent battlefield.
Koby spun three hundred and sixty degrees through the air like a broken toy before crashing down.
Half his face swelled instantly.
His mind blanked.
"Admiral Gern… you…?" Koby clutched his cheek, eyes wide with disbelief and grievance.
Gern looked down at him and asked one simple question.
"How many pirates did you kill?"
Silence.
Koby's mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Was he supposed to admit he had started as a deserter?
That during this mountain-of-corpses war he had been knocked unconscious repeatedly by other people's Haki?
That his hands were so clean he hadn't even killed a chicken?
Seeing the evasive look in his eyes—
Gern laughed.
"Ha."
"HAHAHAHA!"
He pointed at the surrounding Marines—wounded, exhausted, eyes dulled by what they had endured.
"Let me tell you something!"
"If ANY one of them stepped forward and said what you just said—"
"I wouldn't be this angry!"
"Because they faced death!"
"They fought!"
"They crawled out of a sea of blood!"
"They earned the right to speak!"
"NOT YOU!!!"
With each sentence, Gern stepped forward—
And struck Koby again.
And again.
And again.
Each slap echoed across Marineford.
Koby could only curl up, powerless, sobbing in pain.
"Trash!"
"You dare talk about life?!"
"Who did you protect?!"
Behind Gern—
Sengoku.
Zephyr.
Garp—lost in grief, not intervening.
Borsalino.
The entire upper command.
Not one stepped forward.
Because what Koby had done—
Speaking from a Marine's position while serving as a mouthpiece for pirates—
Being used by Red Hair like a tool—
Left a taste just as foul in their mouths.
At last, Gern grabbed Koby by the collar and hauled him up like a chick.
Before the entire Navy—
His voice rang clearly across Marineford.
"From this moment on—"
"You are…"
"The shame of the Navy!!!"
...
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