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Miles away, back in the West Blue, the makeshift grave he had left for his family had been unearthed.
The grave robber? None other than Nico Robin, a girl he had never even met.
The metal box he had dismissed as worthless trinkets held no gold or jewels. Instead, it contained the hidden truths of the D. Clan, the secrets of the three Ancient Weapons, and something even more astonishing—the original design schematics for Pluton's power system.
Fate has a twisted sense of humor. The prize he had carelessly tossed aside had fallen into the hands of a complete stranger.
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Outside Water 7, Redfield reappeared before Arthur, having vanished overnight. He was back in the same attire he had worn three years ago, before his capture.
His face bore the lines of age, yet his posture was ramrod straight, like a spear driven into the earth. His long, silver hair was meticulously combed back.
He wore crimson trousers, a purple shirt, and a blood-red cape draped over his shoulders. Pinned to his left breast, over his heart, was a single, vibrant blue rose. A thin gold chain linked an earring to a ring on his lip. In his hand, he held his signature bat-handled umbrella-weapon.
"Ready when you are."
A wicked grin spread across Redfield's face. For a fleeting moment, he looked like the man who had once terrorized the New World.
On the Grand Line, the truly powerful often had a distinct, unforgettable style.
Arthur's own appearance had not changed—white trousers tucked into boots, a white shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest revealing toned muscle, and his sky-blue greatcoat. His black hair, uncut for years, was pulled back in a simple gold clasp.
He had stopped growing years ago, topping out around seven feet—practically a dwarf by this world's standards.
"Let us move," Arthur nodded. "Wasting time is not my style."
Stretching out from Water 7's shipyards was an endless ribbon of iron rail, part of the Sea Train network designed to connect disparate sea routes. From Water 7 on the fourth route, heading left would lead them directly to their destination: the dazzling, infamous city known as Spring Queen.
"Map says it should only take us about five days at top speed," Arthur glanced at Redfield, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Care for another race?"
"I may be older, boy," Redfield chuckled, "but I guarantee my stamina has not faded."
He shot off first, his red cape billowing like a wave, vanishing over the horizon in seconds.
Arthur stretched, cracked his knuckles, then exploded forward in pursuit.
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Atop the Red Line, in the holy land of Mary Geoise.
The grand council chamber gleamed, polished marble floors reflecting the light. Seated on ornate sofas were the Five Elders, the supreme authority of the World Government. Some sat with hands steepled, others leaned back casually. One clutched a cane, another a sword. All wore expressions ranging from displeased to outright furious.
Standing before them was a phalanx of the Navy's top brass: Fleet Admiral Sengoku; the three Admirals—Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji; the Admiral candidates, Momousagi and Chaton; Chief of Staff Tsuru; and even the nearly retired legends, Zephyr and Garp.
A war council was in session.
"THUD!"
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn slammed his staff onto the marble floor, cracking the stone.
It was a startling display of anger, yet no one present flinched. They were the most powerful men and women in the world. Their faces remained impassive, bordering on bored. Garp was actually picking his nose, looking utterly uninterested.
"Useless!" Saint Saturn spat, his body trembling with rage. He glared at the newspaper spread across the table before them. "Is this what the World Government funds are for? To support a Navy full of incompetent fools who cannot handle a single crisis?"
He nearly hurled the newspaper at Sengoku's face.
Redfield escaping Impel Down was a disaster. It massively bolstered the pirates' strength and made the World Government appear weak, utterly incapable of controlling the situation. If this continued, their authority would evaporate.
"This failure is not entirely on the Navy," Sengoku said, forcing his voice to remain calm despite his own anger.
"The rule against executing prisoners was set by the World Government. And Impel Down's current forces were never enough to stop Arthur."
"What did you say? You dare blame us?" Saint Topman Warcury roared, his eyes bulging.
"Watch your tone, Sengoku! Have you forgotten your place just because you have worn that title for a few years?"
"Enough," Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro cut in coolly. "Temper tantrums solve nothing. The pirates cannot be allowed to grow stronger. If the Navy cannot devise a solution, perhaps it is time Cipher Pol Zero took over command."
CP0 were loyal dogs. They might lack the Navy's sheer numbers, yet they followed orders without question.
Sengoku sighed internally. He placed a prepared document on the table. Bold letters spelled out the title: THE SEVEN WARLORDS OF THE SEA.
"This is a plan developed by myself, Vice Admiral Tsuru, Vice Admiral Comil, and other staff officers. It has... potential."
"The Warlord Project?" Saint Marcus Mars picked up the file and broke the seal, scanning the proposal.
"Recruit certain independent pirates... grant them legal authority to plunder... in exchange for their neutrality and cooperation? Give them power and status?"
His voice rose with incredulity. "Have you lost your mind, Sengoku? What kind of moron in your think tank came up with this absurdity?"
It was not just the Elders who were outraged. A murmur of disbelief went through the assembled Admirals. Akainu looked ready to explode. Granting pirates legitimacy? It was spitting on the very idea of Justice.
"I object," Zephyr growled, his head bowed, fists clenched. His voice was thick with grief and fury. "Why were we not consulted on this?"
This man, who had lost everything—his family, his arm—to pirates... how could he possibly agree to such a compromise?
Sengoku looked at Zephyr, a man who had dedicated his entire life to the Navy, and felt a pang of guilt. The Navy owed him an unpayable debt.
Yet this was the only way he could see to curb the pirates' growing power.
"The Great Pirate Era is five years old," Sengoku stated, his voice firm despite his guilt. "The power structures in the New World are solidifying. Yet these pirates are not unified. They fight amongst themselves. If we recruit a select few, grant them legitimacy under the World Government's banner... it sends a signal. It aligns them, however loosely, with us."
His eyes met Akainu's fiery gaze. "My plan is simple: turn the pirates against each other."
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