On the warship where Jake was stationed, a group of Celestial Dragons stood on the deck, some slumped on the ground.

The severed heads they had once worn as trophies at their waists were long gone—during their escape, those had only been hindrances.

Honor meant nothing compared to their own lives.

One particularly rotund Celestial Dragon removed his shattered helmet, panting heavily as he curse.

"Damn that Garling! If it weren't for that bastard insisting on ending this Hunting Season the very next day, we would never have encountered these monstrous waves. Had we still been on Borudoana Island, these waves would have been nothing more than a badge of honor for us!

But now! My elder brother and younger brother are both dead—swept away by the waves! When my father hears this news, he'll never let Garling off the hook! I'll make sure the Five Elders strip that bastard of his position as leader of the God Knights. A man like him isn't fit to lead the order!"

Another obese female Celestial Dragon, her hair as wild and tangled as seaweed, shrieked hysterically.

"My face got scratched by the debris! No! No! My face is scratched! Damn that Garling, damn the Marines—all of them is useless, utterly useless! If they weren't so incompetent, my face would never have been scratched! I'll have my father execute every last one of them!"

As these two vented their grievances, the surrounding Celestial Dragons joined in, echoing their cries.

In no time, nearly half of the surviving Celestial Dragons were vowing to have Garling and the Marines killed upon their return.

They didn't care if the Marines overheard—to them, the Marines were no different from ants.

The only one they needed to worry about was Garling himself.

But he wasn't on this battleship—they'd seen him boarding Kizaru's vessel when they were rescued.

That was precisely why they dared to shout such things.

Unbeknownst to the Celestial Dragons, however, Garling and Jake stood hidden in a blind spot on the deck, silently observing the raucous crowd.

Garling voice cut through the air, laced with an indescribable chill.

"Jake, I retract my earlier assessment of you. You're a promising Marine—a very clever one at that. Now, I have a question for you: if I don't want to be besieged by those fools, what do you think would be the best course of action?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow your words, Saint Garling."

Jake merely smiled, feigning ignorance at Garling implication.

Garling took a step forward, his tone turning even sharper.

"If you truly didn't understand, you wouldn't have brought me here. They pose a threat—to the Marines and to me. These people serve little purpose alive."

"But you cant kill them all, Saint Garling. What I mean is—at the very least, we can't afford to lose half of them again!"

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I suggest nothing, Saint Garling. Protecting the Celestial Dragons is our duty. Even if we failed in our responsibilities due to the tsunami, we must do everything we can to make amends."

Listening to Jake's words, Garling instantly grasped his meaning.

"You saw those two who spoke up earlier, didn't you? Remember their names. I don't want them returning alive to the Holy Land."

"I didn't hear you say that just now."

Jake continued to smile cheerfully at Garling, though his words and actions conveyed entirely different messages.

Jake nodded while verbally refusing Garling's offer.

Garling looked at Jake as a hint of indescribable amusement flashing in his eyes.

"You'll be a Marine with limitless potential, Jake. I believe you might become the earliest candidate for Admiral—perhaps even Marine Fleet Admiral in the future."

"Thank you for your praise, Saint Garling."

Amid their laughter, the tsunami incident gradually came to an end.

...

Five days after the tsunami, the number of surviving Celestial Dragons had dwindled further.

Under Saint Garling's leadership, the survivors slowly made their way toward the Holy Land.

Jake watched their retreating figures, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes.

...

At Marine Headquarters, Marineford, inside the Fleet Admiral's office, Sengoku let out a long sigh of relief as he saw the group return safely.

He turned to Jake, his tone slightly reproachful.

"You reckless brat, to come up with such an audacious plan—I must've lost my mind to go along with it. But why did you kill some Celestial Dragons afterward? You owe me an explanation."

"Fleet Admiral Sengoku, that was under Saint Garling's orders. Here's the recording from that time. He likely wasn't familiar with the recording shells from Sky Island, so I managed to capture everything—just in case he tried to cause trouble for me later."

After listening to the recording, Sengoku fell silent for a moment before suddenly chuckling.

"It seems even the so-called leader of the God Knights isn't so different from us. He, too, has people he fears. But with so many Celestial Dragons dead, those bastards will undoubtedly come after us."

"Jake, you're the lowest-ranking among us—they'll likely target you first. Stay put for a while and avoid taking on missions. Understood?"

At this, Jake nodded with a smile.

"I was just about to bring that up. I'd like to take some time off—there's something I need to do."

"What is it? You'd better tell me everything, or I won't approve your leave."

"I want to visit Fish-Man Island. It's the main artery supplying Pirates from Paradise to the New World. Even though it's currently under Whitebeard's rule, as long as that route remains open, Pirates will keep flooding into the New World. I plan to see if I can cut it off completely."

"I've already spoken with Whitebeard. Once the Marines arrive, actual control of the island will be handed over to us—though it'll still bear his name. This way, Fish-Man Island can avoid paying the exorbitant Celestial Tribute."

Sengoku nodded at Jake's words, removing his glasses to rub his temples.

"You're far too energetic for your own good. Fine, go if you must. But before making any major decisions, report to me first."