Chapter 4 — We've Got to Win Him Over
Sengoku was sweating cold bullets from what he was hearing.
This brat really was saying whatever came to mind now that she was angry, huh? If anyone else heard this, who knew what they'd start thinking about him. At that point, would he still be able to become Fleet Admiral?
Ah, right. Future Fleet Admiral. Future. Keep it low-key, keep it low-key.
Gion was no fool either. At the time, her thoughts hadn't kept up with Sengoku, that old fox—but once she had time to think it over, the whole thing became obvious.
A future Marine Fleet Admiral, just about to execute the Pirate King, take office as Fleet Admiral, and reach the peak of his life—
And then, all of a sudden, he runs into a man like Uchiha Madara: not a pirate, yet monstrously powerful.
Gion admitted it too. If a combat force like Uchiha Madara could be brought into the Marines, then enduring a bit of grievance would absolutely be worth it.
But that didn't stop her from venting her anger at Sengoku.
"Sister was right after all. Men really are all pigs!"
That made Sengoku's teeth ache.
What was that even supposed to mean? Where had a little girl of twelve or thirteen learned that kind of biting sarcasm?
And the worst part was, he couldn't hit her or scold her.
Because he really was coveting Uchiha Madara's body—ah, no, his strength. What he wanted was Madara's strength.
And it was for justice! For peace across the seas!
"Now, Gion, I know you're angry right now, and maybe you can't understand what I did—but think about it carefully. With the relationship we have, would I ever harm you? I'm helping you here."
Gion rolled her eyes adorably, clearly not wanting to bother with Sengoku.
Sister Tsuru had been absolutely right. Whenever these men needed something from someone, they all wore the same face.
"Look, let's not even talk about Uchiha Madara's strength for now. Let's just talk about helping you get revenge on him—helping you vent your anger. Don't you want to get a handle on that ungrateful wolf, Uchiha Madara?"
Gion was still young, after all. The moment she heard that, she couldn't hold back anymore.
She really had been wronged badly today. She had saved that huge ungrateful brute, ended up covered in injuries, had her memories read clean through, and had even cried her eyes out.
The moment Sengoku saw that Gion was interested, he hurriedly pressed on.
This had a chance!
"Little Gion, maybe you don't trust Garp's judgment—but surely you can trust your big brother's experience. A man like Uchiha Madara, at first glance, seems cruel and vicious, but in reality, he's the kind with a very thin skin, right? What do you kids call that sort of person these days?"
"Tsundere," Gion sniffed and answered.
"Yes, yes, exactly—tsundere. Think about it. If he became your master, would someone like that really treat his disciple badly? People like him may be hard to move, but once you do move them, they're definitely easy to get along with."
"As the saying goes, a teacher for a day is a father for life. What kind of father doesn't dote on his daughter, huh? Maybe at the beginning we'll have to suffer a little, but once he's in hand, won't everything be up to us? The entire Marine force will be standing on your side. At that point, he'll have nowhere to cry for help. Won't you be free to embarrass him however you like?"
"Today it'll be, 'Master, I want the moon.' Tomorrow it'll be, 'Master, I want the sun.' Won't you be able to make him run around for you then? Everything is hardest at the start. Suffer a little today, and you'll live comfortably for the rest of your life, right?"
Gion listened until her eyes sparkled.
Her mind was already full of future scenes where that ungrateful old man Uchiha Madara was laboring like an ox or a horse for her.
She slapped her thigh on the spot.
Done!
The moment Sengoku saw that, he immediately leaned close to Gion's ear and began whispering.
Mutter mutter mutter mutter.
After listening, Gion exchanged a look with Sengoku.
The two of them smiled in equally sinister fashion.
"We've got to win him over!"
The scene shifted.
Inside the temporary command center for the Loguetown deployment.
Garp was chewing on senbei while chatting with Uchiha Madara.
"Hahahahaha! Say, Brother Madara, how'd you pull out that giant bony thing of yours? Devil Fruit power?"
After reading the information in Gion's memories, Uchiha Madara now had a general understanding of this world.
At the same time, he had also accepted the Wano Country ninja persona Sengoku had handed him.
"A hereditary secret technique. It requires a special bloodline."
Under normal circumstances, the old Uchiha Madara definitely would not have bothered explaining something like that.
But after the blow of Black Zetsu's betrayal, and after discovering that this was not his own world, the aimless confusion inside him had begun driving him to communicate with the people around him.
And Garp, as a member of the D. clan, was famously carefree, loud, and easygoing.
So the two of them actually got along rather well.
"I saw both you and that little girl use that special technique before—the one like instant movement. Soru, was it?"
"Ah, you mean Soru. That's one of our Marine Six Powers. It's basically something all officers at the field-grade level have to master."
The two of them weren't really discussing anything useful. They were just exchanging mutually understood nonsense.
Having read Gion's memories, Uchiha Madara had learned Soru on the spot.
Mainly because, out of the Six Powers, Soru was the only one Gion knew.
After trading nonsense for half the day and both beginning to feel bored, Sengoku entered, dragging along Gion, whose eyes were red as if she had just been crying.
The moment Uchiha Madara saw Gion, his head started to ache.
He simply could not understand what went on inside the minds of little brats like her—and with those slightly red and swollen eyes, it pushed his irritation dangerously high.
The moment she entered, Gion pitifully called out to him:
"Master~"
Madara's face turned cold, and just as he was about to speak—
He saw that miserable little face of hers looking ready to burst into tears again.
His blood pressure instantly shot up.
Madara formed a seal on the spot and fled using the Body Flicker Technique.
At the same time, Garp slightly raised his head and glanced at the rooftop.
Sengoku, meanwhile, revealed the look of someone whose scheme had succeeded and nodded toward Garp.
Garp looked puzzled, but he still understood Sengoku's meaning, so he stayed seated where he was and did not move.
There was no need to go up onto the roof to deliberately monitor Uchiha Madara.
That terrifying aura of his wasn't concealed in the slightest. In Garp's perception, Madara's location was as obvious as a sun blazing overhead.
With the corners of his mouth raised, Sengoku hurried off with Gion.
The two exchanged a look. The meaning was obvious:
Later, go find him again.
Yes.
That was the battle plan Sengoku and Gion had devised—
Operation: Play Pitiful.
And judging from that little test just now, the method appeared to be highly effective.
A man like Uchiha Madara clearly looked like the lone-wolf type: cold, arrogant, violent, domineering.
But at the same time, he seemed to place an unusually high value on things like favors and bonds.
Like those gangsters from the West Blue—big on brotherhood and loyalty.
Having climbed all the way to his current position, Sengoku could be said to have seen all sorts of people.
Uchiha Madara's strength might well surpass Sengoku's, but when it came to handling human relationships, Madara's overwhelming power and overbearing nature made him inferior to someone like Sengoku, who spent every day navigating between superiors and subordinates.
Night fell.
Uchiha Madara lay alone on the rooftop of the second floor.
He knew Garp had been sent by Sengoku to keep an eye on him. It was obvious that the Marines regarded the execution of the so-called Pirate King as an extremely important matter.
But Madara did not particularly care.
What he felt now was only confusion.
After the battle at the Valley of the End, he had lived alone underground for who knew how long, and never once had he felt such loneliness.
Even when all he could eat day after day were rats—or, on better days, military ration pills—he had still found that period of his life fulfilling.
He had possessed ambition.
He had possessed purpose.
He had possessed the Eye of the Moon Plan as a means of achieving true peace.
Then came his reincarnation through Impure World Reincarnation, and his battle against the Allied Shinobi Forces.
Though there was admittedly something of a suspicion that he was bullying children, he had still found it enjoyable.
He enjoyed battle.
He even enjoyed the deep fear and despair the Allied Shinobi Forces felt whenever they heard the title Asura of the Shinobi World.
He remembered that little Onoki being shaken by Tengai Shinsei.
He remembered the Five Kage risking their lives to fight him.
Especially Hashirama's granddaughter.
Though her strength had been lacking, her spirit was absolutely worthy of being Hashirama's granddaughter, and worthy of bearing the title of Hokage.
Then there was the taijutsu beast who fought him while emitting red steam.
And the children of destiny, Naruto and Sasuke.
Ah… that boy whose face resembled Izuna's.
He had not disgraced the Uchiha name.
Though they were enemies, Madara had never hated anyone who fought him.
On the contrary—because they fought him, he had found the world interesting.
Even when he was killed by that sneak attack, he had not complained of unfairness.
Those two brats, Naruto and Sasuke, were no match for him.
He felt only that he had lost to his own carelessness.
In the end, you still won, Hashirama.
Your will—or perhaps what they called the Will of Fire—was passed down successfully after all.
I was supposed to drink with you again someday, Hashirama.