Somewhere in the New World...
"We should be getting close. According to our intel, Shiki's last known appearance was near this area."
On the deck of the warship, Sengoku calmly flipped through the nautical chart in his hands. He adjusted his black-rimmed glasses as he spoke.
Daren narrowed his eyes at the vast ocean ahead, frowning.
Even with the Marine's massive intelligence network, finding a pirate crew in this endless sea was no easier than finding a needle in a haystack.
He was starting to understand the difficulties Sengoku and the other Marine top brass faced.
It wasn't that the Marines were incompetent—standing by and letting the Great Pirate Era run rampant, allowing so many pirates to wreak havoc across the seas.
The truth was, the world was just too vast. Communication and intelligence networks were underdeveloped. Warships, while not exactly slow, were still nothing compared to the sheer scale of the ocean.
Even if they acted immediately upon receiving intel about a pirate sighting, by the time the main force arrived, it would already be hours or even days later.
And that's not even considering how unpredictable and treacherous the weather in the New World could be.
All of this made the Marines' ability to chase down pirates incredibly inefficient.
These were objective limitations—ones that couldn't be easily overcome.
And that was one of the main reasons Sengoku was so desperate to establish a flying fleet.
The Marines didn't lack firepower—they lacked mobility.
If they had a flying fleet, their maneuverability would increase exponentially. With that, their ability to pursue pirates would reach an unthinkable level.
"Wandering around like headless flies won't get us anywhere. Admiral Sengoku, have we figured out why Shiki the Golden Lion showed up this time?"
Sengoku shook his head.
"No, we haven't. Shiki is extremely secretive, highly strategic, and excellent at concealing his objectives."
Daren's frown deepened. This wasn't going to be easy...
"Hmm? Looks like something serious is happening over there..."
Borsalino's lazy voice cut in.
He raised his hand and casually pointed toward a direction on the distant sea, his smile laced with amusement.
Daren and Sengoku followed his gaze, and their expressions immediately shifted.
Through the thin sea mist, the faint outline of a small island came into view.
Thick black smoke was rising into the air above the island, hanging heavy and unmoving.
As a cold sea breeze swept over them, both Daren and Sengoku's eyes narrowed sharply.
So thick... it was overwhelming.
"Land on the island!"
Sengoku didn't hesitate and gave the order at once.
The entire town on the island was strewn with severed limbs. Crumbled, low-built civilian homes lay in ruins, blood soaking the ground and splattered across the shattered remnants of walls.
Jagged sword marks crisscrossed the earth, and the clean, smooth cuts in the buildings made it obvious—this was the work of a master swordsman.
Dusk approached, casting the fading sunlight over the devastated remains of the town.
Everything before them was desolate and lifeless. Vultures were already pecking at the rotting bodies.
The stench of decay and blood was overpowering—so pungent it turned the stomach.
The Marines who had come ashore turned pale. Many of the younger ones felt their guts twist, on the verge of throwing up.
Sengoku's sudden roar shattered the oppressive silence.
His bloodshot eyes locked onto the carnage around him, teeth clenched tight.
Daren's expression darkened as well.
There was no need to guess. In this vast sea, only one person was capable of such a brutal massacre of civilians.
And with those terrifying slash marks, still brimming with a cold and violent energy...
"Looks like we were a step too late. Shiki's already been here..."
Borsalino sighed, his tone a mix of helplessness and resignation.
Sengoku's face was grim.
"Search for clues. See if there are any survivors."
The chances were slim, but it was still their duty to try.
At his order, the accompanying Marines fanned out immediately.
"Admiral Sengoku! We've got a survivor here!"
A panicked voice rang out nearby.
Sengoku and the others rushed toward it.
Beneath a collapsed wall lay a man, his body soaked in blood and his face deathly pale.
His lower half was crushed under the rubble, completely immobile.
"How are you feeling?"
Sengoku crouched down beside him, voice tight with urgency.
As he spoke, he glanced toward the ship's doctor, who silently shook his head.
The man struggled to open his eyes. Through the blur, he made out the Marine uniform Sengoku wore.
His hoarse voice barely made it out. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
There was a sorrowful, almost bitter trace behind that smile.
Cloudy tears welled up in his eyes and slid down his stiff cheeks.
Sengoku paused. His gaze dimmed, and he replied quietly.
The man slowly lifted his head, staring blankly at Sengoku. His lips curled into a hollow, mocking grin.
Blood-tears welled up in his empty eyes. Then, suddenly, he exploded in fury, his eyes burning red.
"We paid the Heavenly Tribute!"
"Every day we worked ourselves to the bone—groveling like dogs before tax collectors, too scared to even see a doctor when we got sick!"
"My wife died in bed because of it! She couldn't afford a doctor, couldn't afford medicine!"
"All because we had to keep paying that damned Heavenly Tribute!!" Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel fire.net
"And in the end? When the pirates came, where were you Marines?!"
"You strut around in your pristine uniforms, riding your magnificent warships, flaunting your power! And now you stand here and tell me... 'I'm sorry'?!"
"My father, my mother... my two children... they're all dead!!"
"This is your justice?! This is how the Marines protect us after taking the Heavenly Tribute?!"
His weak, grief-stricken roar echoed through the ruins like thunder, startling flocks of vultures into flight.
The Marines stood frozen, heads bowed in silence.
Sengoku opened his mouth, lips trembling, but no words came out.
He could've explained so much.
That the Heavenly Tribute had nothing to do with the Marines. That most of it never reached them—it all went to the Celestial Dragons to fund their extravagant, hedonistic lifestyles.
That the sea was vast, and they'd gotten here as fast as they could.
That the Marine forces were stretched thin, and Marine Headquarters was far from the New World...
There were countless reasons.
But for this man—who had already lost everything, and was moments away from death—none of that mattered.
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