The Den Den Mushi sprouted a thick mustache, its eyes fierce and savage—perfectly mimicking the furious face of Saint Warcury, who was roaring on the other end.

Over the past eight hundred years of Gorosei and World Government rule, they had faced countless challengers and rebels of every kind.

Even Dragon, dubbed "the world's most dangerous criminal," was nothing more than a nuisance in their eyes.

But Saint Warcury would swear on his precious mustache: in the past eight hundred years, no Gorosei had ever encountered such an infuriating thorn as Borsalino.

He had already told himself to endure it, even going so far as to send someone else to deliver the message on his behalf. Yet Borsalino still managed to enrage him, his arrogant demeanor making Warcury's mustache tremble with fury.

"Eh? What do you mean by that, honored Gorosei? Are you really so eager to summon me?"

Borsalino feigned surprise, all the while giving Nami and Reiju a subtle hand signal.

The conversation was about to veer into matters not suited for outsiders—not because he was hiding anything from them, but because he didn't want to shatter the "righteous and noble" image they still had of him… assuming it still existed at all.

Nami and Reiju obediently left the private room. Unlike Borsalino—who never missed a chance to throw shade at the Gorosei—most people in this world viewed the Five Elders as the embodiment of absolute, untouchable authority.

If kings like Wapol could tyrannize their subjects at will, then the Gorosei's status was on a level far above mere kings.

Even the throne Judge dreamed of claiming was nothing more than one seat among the many nations under the World Government's banner.

But the Gorosei sat at the very top of that government, the ultimate rulers. Without Borsalino backing them up, just hearing the Gorosei's anger would have probably made Nami's knees buckle.

"What exactly are you plotting?! Don't tell me you still don't know—that madman from the Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates is already marching on Mariejois with hundreds of thousands of pirates!"

Saint Warcury snarled through clenched teeth, tearing away the thin veil between the World Government and the Marines, openly confronting Borsalino.

"What? That's impossible!"

To Warcury's astonishment, Borsalino actually gasped in shock, looking utterly shaken.

For a fleeting moment, even the Gorosei himself wavered—was it possible he had truly misjudged Borsalino? Could it be that the Marines genuinely knew nothing of the Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates' movements, and that their admiral had merely been misled by some hidden schemer?

Sensing the sudden drop in hostility through his Malice Perception, Borsalino nearly burst out laughing. In an instant, Warcury's killing intent had dropped from "blood feud" to something more like "romantic rivalry."

Of course, he knew full well this was mostly because the World Government couldn't afford an open rift with the Marines. As long as there was even a shred of hope, the Gorosei had no choice but to tread carefully when it came to breaking with Borsalino.

Still, the thought of those smug, holier-than-thou elders being forced to swallow their pride almost made him regret not being able to see their faces right now.

"Bastard! Do you take us for fools?!"

But the Gorosei were not like the dimwitted Celestial Dragons. It only took a moment for Warcury to regain his composure.

If it had been someone like Kong, parachuted into the position of Fleet Admiral, perhaps he could've been deceived. But Borsalino? This man had clawed his way up from the very bottom ranks of the Marines.

Compared even against the greatest admirals of the past, the newly appointed Fleet Admiral Borsalino commanded just as much—if not more—prestige.

To claim that such a man couldn't even control the Marine branches of the New World… that was treating them like idiots.

Bang!

Before Borsalino could answer, the private room's door slammed open, crashing inward. Sengoku stormed in, a report clutched tightly in his hand.

"Borsalino, we've got trouble! The Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates, after absorbing Big Mom's crew, are on the move—their target looks to be Mariejois!"

Sengoku, the Grand Inspector, barged in with furrowed brows, speaking in a rush—so urgent that he didn't even notice the transponder snail sitting on the table.

Halfway through his tirade, Saint Warcury froze mid-sentence. He had heard Sengoku's voice as well, and for a moment he actually began to doubt himself.

Could it be that he really had wronged Borsalino? That this infuriating troublemaker truly hadn't been scheming this time?

"Ahem… you see? Even Grand Inspector Sengoku only just found out about this…"

Borsalino gave a light cough. Honestly, he hadn't planned to shift the blame at first, but with the Gorosei and Sengoku unknowingly playing along so perfectly, it felt almost wasteful not to lean into the act.

"This call…?"

Sengoku's gaze landed on the snail's distinctive whiskers, hesitating for a moment. Such a recognizable feature was rare, and given the fact that the person on the other end was speaking directly with Borsalino, the identity was all but confirmed.

"It's me. Have you received the same report, Sengoku?"

Warcury sighed, a trace of weariness in his voice. Of course, he never once doubted Sengoku's loyalty. The man had served diligently for decades.

From the Government's perspective, Sengoku had never been the most obedient of Fleet Admirals. But when it came to matters of principle, his record was solid enough to put the Gorosei's minds at ease.

"Yes. I just received the intelligence report… The situation is extremely dire. We must mobilize all available forces at once, gather the fleets as quickly as possible, and intercept the Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates!"

Sengoku's expression was grave. Even during the Paramount War—when the Whitebeard Pirates and Red-Hair Pirates joined forces, bolstered by Impel Down escapees and opportunistic revolutionaries—the enemy's numbers had not exceeded one hundred thousand.

Now, based on reports from every channel, the enemy's headcount had already surpassed two hundred thousand, and was still climbing.

True, most of these so-called pirates were weaklings—many were just civilians forcibly conscripted into service—but sheer numbers alone made the situation critical.

What troubled Sengoku most was this: what on earth had the Marine branches in the New World and the CP agents been doing?

A disturbance of this scale should have reached Marineford's ears much earlier. Even if someone had been negligent, there was no way the situation should have grown this out of hand—allowing the Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates to fully consolidate their forces before headquarters even noticed.

"…Then that's the only option left. The World Government will do its best to muster troops of its own. The Navy is in your hands! Whatever it takes, we cannot allow the enemy to set foot on the Holy Land!"

Warcury's tone was sharp with urgency. The other Gorosei had already received the news and were pressing him to join them in council.

Had he not been so thoroughly infuriated by Borsalino earlier, he would never have allowed himself to lose composure to this degree.

Once Saint Warcury hung up the transponder snail, Sengoku was just about to discuss troop deployment with Kizaru—only to find that the private room was empty.

For a moment, Sengoku was at a loss, blinking in confusion. Then, like a flash of lightning, the truth hit him.

Of course. Even if some officers had been negligent, there was no way every single branch in the New World had gone blind and deaf.

No one had ever accurately counted the number of pirates in the New World, but as the Marines—their sworn enemies—there had always been at least rough estimates.

For the Cosmic Dark Matter Pirates to rally more than two hundred thousand men, they must have practically swept the New World clean of pirates. And undoubtedly, many of those counted were little more than dead weight.

A movement of that magnitude could not possibly be hidden—even Sengoku, a former Fleet Admiral himself, couldn't imagine how such a thing could be covered up.

But if someone had to be named the prime suspect… then the current Fleet Admiral, Kizaru, was both the biggest and the only possibility.

"…It couldn't really be him, could it?"

The corner of Sengoku's eye twitched. He wanted to believe that maybe Kizaru had just been used by someone else, that this wasn't necessarily his doing.

But remembering Kizaru's past actions, Sengoku found it hard to swear in good conscience that the man was innocent.

Kizaru, having slipped out of the restaurant suite, headed straight back to the Fleet Admiral's office. Yet barely had he set foot inside when Sengoku was already at his heels.

"Ahem… Grand Inspector, do you need something from me?"

Caught red-handed, unable to slip away, the smile on Kizaru's face turned slightly awkward under Sengoku's stern gaze.

It was far too late to play dumb—his antics weren't about to fool a former Fleet Admiral with Sengoku's experience.

Of course, if Kizaru wanted to, he could spin a dozen excuses. But against Sengoku, such rhetoric would be meaningless.

"…I won't even ask what you're really after. For now, this ends here. I'll do what I can to seek reconciliation with the Gorosei, and smooth this matter over."

Sengoku placed both hands firmly on Kizaru's shoulders, speaking with grave seriousness.

He could only hope that his own reputation, and the Navy's standing in the eyes of the Gorosei, would be enough to shield Kizaru from the worst.

After all, Sengoku understood him. They were both men who had clawed their way up from the very bottom ranks of the Marines.

But the problem was this: the World Government was not as easy to topple as it seemed. To think a ragtag pirate horde could overthrow its rule—and that of the Gorosei—was sheer fantasy.

"Mm… somehow, I doubt the Gorosei are all that interested in making peace with me…"

Kizaru shrugged. He didn't mind putting on a bit of a show, but with Sengoku preparing to march to Mary Geoise's aid, there was no chance that his little tricks could escape the Grand Inspector's eye.

°°°

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