One month later, the Paramount War had completely come to an end.
But the aftershocks it unleashed swept across the world like a tidal wave. Each freshly printed newspaper landed like a boulder thrown into a still lake, sending ripples roaring outward in endless waves—carrying the final, brutal, and resplendent images of Marineford to every corner of the Four Seas.
This had been a war watched by the entire world—a total war that gambled the direction of the era itself.
In this conflict, three Emperors of the Sea had either entered the battlefield directly or intervened in its outcome.
And yet the result left the world speechless.
Justice did not collapse.
In this destiny-defining clash at the summit—
The Emperor "Beasts" Kaido was forced to withdraw, unable to set foot upon the main battlefield.
The Emperor "Red-Hair" Shanks ultimately led his crew away under the gaze of the entire world, choosing retreat.
The Emperor "Strongest Man in the World," Edward Newgate—Whitebeard—fell in battle. His towering body collapsed alongside the banner of the old era.
The legendary great pirate, the "Flying Pirate" Golden Lion Shiki, also burned through the last of his life here, dying in combat and drawing the final line beneath the myths of the past age.
"Fire Fist" Portgas D. Ace, bearer of the Pirate King's bloodline, was confirmed executed.
The elite forces of the pirates suffered casualties beyond counting.
And upon the ruins forged by the fall of legends—
One figure stood unshaken, like a pillar supporting the heavens.
"Heavenquake" Gern Reginald Sigmar.
With unquestionable, absolute power and iron-blooded authority, he defeated Whitebeard and the Golden Lion in succession.
He commanded the battlefield.
He ended the war with overwhelming force.
And he declared to every pirate upon the seas—
Justice does not fall.
...
New World.
Former Marine G-1 Branch.
Now serving as the temporary headquarters of the Navy.
Fleet Admiral's Office.
"Damn it! Did that bastard Gern strike some kind of shady backroom deal with that 'Big News' Morgans?!"
Fleet Admiral Sengoku slammed the freshly printed World Economic Journal onto his desk with a loud crack. The issue had already spread across the globe, and as he stared at its contents, his expression darkened visibly.
The front page featured an enormous photograph of Gern standing atop the ruins, right fist raised high as he led the thunderous chant of "Justice." The headline was sensational—blatantly slanted.
"Look at this! It's completely one-sided!"
"Other than listing pirate casualties and retreats, the rest of the space is nothing but praise for that bastard! How he turned the tide! How he ended the Legendary Era! How he upheld justice!!"
Sengoku's voice trembled with suppressed fury—and a hint of resentment at being sidelined.
"I coordinated the entire war as Fleet Admiral! Everyone else fought tooth and nail! And in these reports, we're nothing more than background props!"
Seated calmly across from him on the sofa, Chief Staff Officer Tsuru remained utterly composed.
She didn't even lift her eyes. Instead, she blew gently across the steam rising from her teacup and took an unhurried sip before responding in a mild tone.
"Sengoku, at this point, you'd better worry about yourself."
She set the cup down lightly.
"From the moment the war ended, Gern began shaping the narrative."
"This flood of praise is the clearest signal."
"The World Government will absolutely not allow you to resign and step down right now."
She continued evenly.
"The Celestial Dragons don't lack money. Whatever you ask for, they'll provide."
Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the temporary headquarters bustled in visible disorder.
"Marineford… is gone."
"They need a symbol of stability. At least on the surface, you must remain seated in that chair for now."
At the mention of the World Government, Sengoku let out a cold snort tinged with irony. Then, narrowing his eyes slightly, he asked,
"And what do you think Gern plans to do next?"
"March in here and force me out? Take the Fleet Admiral's position outright?"
"No."
Tsuru shook her head slowly.
"At least not now."
"Why not?" Sengoku frowned deliberately. "This opportunity is once in a lifetime."
Tsuru chuckled softly.
"Sengoku, you're the so-called 'Strategist Buddha,' aren't you? But if you won't say it, then I will."
She began laying out Gern's position with precise clarity.
"Right now, Gern's most urgent task is to capitalize on the Whitebeard Pirates' disarray."
"With Whitebeard dead and his crew leaderless and gravely weakened, Gern must move at the fastest possible speed to seize and digest Whitebeard's vast territories."
"His G-10 base already bordered Whitebeard's sphere of influence. This is the perfect chance for expansion."
"That is his core interest at present—far more important than a hollow title."
She paused, then continued.
"And he knows better than anyone that his foundation lies in G-10 in the New World—not here."
"Ever since the first attack on Zephyr's training ship years ago, he began deliberately drawing in promising recruits from each of Zephyr's classes."
"With various missions, temporary transfers—even 'loans'—he funneled them steadily into G-10."
"And Zephyr… tacitly allowed it."
Tsuru lifted her eyes and met Sengoku's gaze directly as she delivered the cutting truth.
"In other words, the factions at Marineford are too many and too tangled."
"He doesn't want a single one of them."
"This war was too brutal."
Her voice carried a chilling clarity.
"What collapsed wasn't just Marineford as a fortress…"
"It was the entire headquarters faction system you've maintained for years."
"Garp was suspended for half a year because of the Ace incident and has returned to Windmill Village in the East Blue—effectively stepping away from the center of power."
"Kuzan and Sakazuki's ideological conflict and personal grievances have exploded beyond reconciliation. Their factions are like fire and water."
"Borsalino? He'll side with whoever wins."
"As for the mid-level officers, casualties were severe. Organizational structures are in tatters."
She folded her hands calmly.
"So Gern doesn't need to worry."
She spoke each word clearly.
"He only needs to wait."
"And what he intends to do is not seize your hot-potato Fleet Admiral seat…"
Her eyes sharpened.
"But to hollow it out from within."