At the same time — the New World.
On the fringes of what had once been Whitebeard's vast domain, smoke coiled into the sky above a battered island.
The remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates, led by Marco, had not chosen to vanish into the shadows. Instead, burning with vengeance, they actively hunted for traces of the Blackbeard Pirates. After all, during the Summit War, Blackbeard had suffered a devastating blow from Golden Lion Shiki, left on the brink of death. If there had ever been a perfect opportunity to wipe him out completely, it was now.
Unfortunately—
Reality struck like a hammer.
Without Whitebeard—their strongest shield and spear—the crew's overall strength had plummeted off a cliff.
Aside from Marco himself, who could still maintain near-Emperor-Commander-level combat power thanks to the Mythical Zoan Phoenix Fruit, the other division commanders—Jozu, Vista, and the rest—
When faced with the savage monsters Blackbeard had recruited from Impel Down's Level 6… along with original core members like Shiryu and Burgess—
They found themselves struggling at every turn, restrained, suppressed, outmatched.
Blackbeard himself hadn't even appeared.
And yet, merely through the strange and terrifying abilities of his crew—and their ruthless coordination—Marco's group was pinned down so thoroughly that revenge was a distant fantasy.
Even breaking through their encirclement felt nearly impossible.
Perhaps it wasn't coordination at all.
Perhaps it was simply the raw gap in individual strength.
…
Elsewhere in the New World — the waters of the Sorok Kingdom.
Once one of Whitebeard's most important affiliated nations.
Across the brilliant blue sea, a colossal warship cleaved through the waves, bearing the Marine insignia of "Heaven's Calamity" and the designation G-10.
At the prow stood Gern Reginald Sigmar, Justice coat draped over his shoulders, standing firm against the wind.
In the distance, four pirate ships—each flying a different skull flag—advanced arrogantly toward the island, hoping to seize this now "ownerless" territory amid the chaos.
Gern's gaze was cold.
He made no elaborate gesture.
He simply raised his left hand—
And clenched.
"Vmmmm—BOOM!!!!!"
The air in the region where the pirate ships sailed shattered violently.
The atmosphere screamed under unbearable strain as visible fractures rippled outward like cracks in glass—precisely enveloping all four ships.
The hulls twisted.
Splintered.
Collapsed.
Disintegrated.
The pirates aboard did not even have time to scream before their bodies were pulverized into dust beneath the crushing force of catastrophic vibration.
The sea swallowed them whole.
All that remained were four expanding plumes of white spray and scattered fragments of drifting timber.
With the riffraff erased effortlessly, the warship sailed unimpeded toward the harbor of the Sorok Kingdom.
The local populace—and the former Whitebeard-affiliated forces stationed there—offered almost no resistance. They accepted the Marine flag without struggle.
Gern.
Without spilling a drop of blood—
Claimed another island.
After swiftly concluding the annexation proceedings, Gern stood upon the deck once more, a secured Den Den Mushi resting in his palm.
"Tesoro. What's the situation on the other fronts?"
Whitebeard's former territory was a massive power vacuum—an irresistible lure to every hungry wolf in the New World.
Faced with such vast waters and tangled allegiances, Gern had adopted a strategy of divided advancement—multiple fronts, simultaneous pressure.
With Mihawk having returned to the Grand Line for vacation—
Enel and Bartholomew Kuma continued pressing against the Big Mom Pirates.
Enel used his Mantra-enhanced wide-area perception and devastating lightning to deliver rapid strikes and intimidation.
Kuma, with the Paw-Paw Fruit's instantaneous displacement ability, provided precise support and troop deployment—neutralizing stubborn strongholds with exceptional efficiency.
Lipo and Douglas Bullet were handling Kaido's Beasts Pirates.
Lipo used her healing abilities and agile close-quarters combat to support and strike surgically.
Bullet, meanwhile, embodied absolute overwhelming force—smashing through the hardest fortifications head-on.
"Snake Princess" Toritoma and Ghost Princess Perona were assigned to the areas closer to G-10 and the remnants of Wang Zhi's forces.
Toritoma, with the might of a supreme-grade swordsman, imposed regional control and carried out decapitation strikes.
Perona's Ghost Fruit could effortlessly shatter enemy morale and sow chaos.
Together, they often paralyzed entire pirate coalitions without bloodshed—especially effective against large, loosely bound alliances.
As for Gern—
As the absolute core and ultimate deterrent, he personally led a fleet, patrolling the most critical, sensitive, or fiercely resistant zones.
He was responsible for monitoring the Red-Haired Pirates.
Unfortunately, Shanks was far too cunning.
Even now, Gern had not caught so much as a shadow of them.
On the other end of the Den Den Mushi, Tesoro—stationed at G-10 overseeing rear operations—briefly reported the progress of Enel, Bullet, Lipo, and the others.
Advancement varied in pace, but overall, they were clearing obstacles with dominant force and steadily absorbing Whitebeard's inheritance.
After finishing the report, Tesoro added in a lower voice:
"Additionally, Vice Admiral Gern… Fleet Admiral Sengoku has allocated an enormous sum of funds through official channels."
"Under the designation of 'New World Defense Infrastructure and Marineford Reconstruction Special Budget.'"
He hesitated.
"How should we handle this money?"
A pause.
"…Should we redirect it? Or clean it discreetly?"
"Process it normally."
"…Huh?"
Tesoro blinked audibly through the snail.
"Gern, are you serious? By our previous standards, shouldn't we simply—"
Gern's lips curved slightly, not in surprise but in understanding.
He issued the order without hesitation.
"There's no need for complications this time."
"Set aside the portion necessary for our 'Fleet Admiral' to establish his 'New Marineford' in the New World."
"As for the rest—"
"Allocate all of it toward constructing Marine branch bases."
"…Understood."
Tesoro accepted the command immediately, without further question.
Once Gern formally issued an order, he never asked twice.
The call ended.
Gern pocketed the Den Den Mushi and turned his gaze toward the boundless blue horizon. Sea wind stirred the strands of hair across his brow.
"Planting flags to declare sovereignty…" he murmured quietly,
"…means nothing."
"In every critical sea zone, what truly matters is establishing tangible, fully functional Marine branch bases—complete with stationed troops and supply capabilities."
"Only that constitutes real stability."
His thinking was clear.
In the vast, chaotic waters of the New World, overwhelming personal power and a handful of banners could never secure lasting control.
Pirates came and went freely.
Territory seized today could be infiltrated or stolen tomorrow.
"Especially on this endless ocean…"
His gaze seemed to pierce beyond the horizon—envisioning a lattice of Marine bases scattered like stars across the sea.
"These branches will become the nodes through which I control the shipping lanes… project influence… gather intelligence… supply forces…"
"And most importantly—deploy military power at a moment's notice."
"They will be wedges driven into the sea itself—pinning 'Justice' firmly into territories that once belonged to Emperors."
This was not merely territorial acquisition.
It was a structural reformation of the New World's balance of power.
What Gern desired was not nominal allegiance—
But absolute, top-to-bottom, practical control.
And the network of Marine branch bases spreading across the New World—
Would be the most fundamental, and most critical, cornerstone of that grand design.
...
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