Chapter 404: Transponder Snail Cut, No More News Seagulls!
Chapter 404: Transponder Snail Cut, No More News Seagulls!
The warship returned to Headquarters at breakneck speed. At Headquarters, massive forces had gathered. Though the numbers weren't as large as Top War's, their quality was no less formidable.
Even Momousagi and Tatsumaki were stationed at Headquarters as guards, fearing someone might learn of the situation and launch a surprise attack. Losing two Admirals at once would be a catastrophe.
Even Kuro was confined to Headquarters, forced to remain stationed at Marineford.
Three days later.
Kuro sat in his Headquarters office, puffing smoke rings. His office was simply one room carved out of Gramps' building. After all, as a Headquarters Commodore, how could he not have an office in Marineford?
"Yo."
The traditional sliding door suddenly slid open, and Kuzan strolled in, tossing Kuro a bottle of wine.
"Huh?"
Kuro blinked in surprise, catching the bottle. English letters on the label read "Jerez."
"Sherry? You're drinking this cheap stuff now? At least you're an Admiral."
Kuro flicked his thumb, popping the seal, then glanced at Kuzan. Scars from burns ran from his neck inward, covering half his body.
"Don't look down on this wine. It's Master Zeff's favorite. Don't you think it's cool to drink ordinary stuff when you're at the top?"
He pulled out the chair opposite Kuro and plopped down.
Kuro narrowed his eyes. As Kuzan sat, his slightly rolled-up pant leg revealed frost clinging to his skin.
His leg was gone—irreparably lost.
Unlike Kuro's injury from Shanks' slash during the Summit, Kuzan's leg had been completely melted away, just like Zeff's.
It was almost poetic.
The two closest master and apprentice—each missing a limb. One a hand, the other a leg.
Kuzan didn't need a prosthetic. His Devil Fruit powers made mobility easy, though his combat effectiveness had definitely dropped from his prime.
"I heard you carried me back when I fainted. I'm here to thank you."
Kuzan raised his identical bottle in a toast. "Drink?"
Kuro removed his cigar, clinked his bottle against Kuzan's, and took a few sips.
"Ugh, terrible."
Setting down the bottle, Kuro mused, "I think wine, like people, doesn't need to chase coolness or tradition. If it tastes good, that's enough. If it goes down easy, that's all that matters. Even if it's not exactly what you wanted, time changes flavors. Chasing ideals too hard just leaves regrets."
"I get your point, but people need their own pursuits."
Kuzan shrugged. "Sakazuki became Fleet Admiral. I'm leaving the Navy. Some truths can't be seen without stepping out of the Navy and clearing World Government's shadows—especially for people like us."
Admirals knew countless secrets.
Mysteries unknown even to ordinary people and great pirates were common knowledge to them.
Viewing the world through that lens...
"Decided already?"
Kuro bit his cigar again. "Maybe reconsider? It's been nice having you around Headquarters."
"Nope. I can't stand Sakazuki's leadership."
Kuzan took another swig, gulping down the entire bottle before placing it on Kuro's desk.
Standing, he said, "You keep developing. People like you thrive in the Navy."
Without waiting for Kuro's reply, he left the office.
"Thrive, huh?"
Kuro stared at the empty bottle. "Guess we're different types. That lazy haze in your eyes is gone, but I've never felt lost."
His life goal? Retire peacefully, then live comfortably until death.
"Twenty-five years of life—dreams and illusions. Born, die, live comfortably, no regrets." Reciting a haiku, Kuro downed the rest of his wine.
Kuzan—no, Kuzan had left the Navy.
This caused a major stir at Headquarters, but Akainu quickly suppressed it. To demonstrate his resolve against pirates, he decided to relocate Headquarters from Marineford to the New World.
Already, he'd gone to Mariejois to negotiate with the Five Elders.
But this didn't concern Kuro.
He was returning to the West Blue.
He was still the base commander of West Blue's Pegasus Island. No one could stop him going back.
"From now on, no incoming calls. Remember, no exceptions!"
On the returning warship, Kuro instructed his subordinates. "Same as before—avoid contact. If unavoidable, say I'm not here. Definitely not here!"
"Cut all Transponder Snail signals!"
Just in case, Kuro added, "Completely block all signals. No news seagulls either. I hear nothing, see nothing!"
"Understood, Kuro Mr." Klah sighed, adjusting his glasses before leaving to execute the orders.
Whether Sengoku or Akainu became Fleet Admiral, refusing calls meant no promotions. Who would bother transferring him?
Akainu was busy relocating Headquarters. Even after relocation, six months would pass. By then, New World and West Blue would be too distant. They'd forget him.
Besides, Gramps would cover for him.
No promotions, no transfers. Even if Sengoku and Garp visited Pegasus Island, he'd refuse to go.
No reason to return to Headquarters. No reason for reassignment.
Why follow orders?
Ha?
World Government?
Would World Government even care about such trivial matters?
Even if the 'One Piece' guy returned, he'd head to the New World. Nothing to do with Kuro.
Finally, Kuro entered peace!
Just as Kuro basked in this illusory peace, seagulls flew worldwide, scattering newspapers.
Literally scattering.
Previously, newspapers were sold. This time, they were simply dropped from the sky.
On a certain island, a civilian caught several newspapers dropped by seagulls. Opening one, he froze at the headline.
It wasn't the biggest recent news—Akainu's appointment as Fleet Admiral.
Instead, two photos dominated the front page.
One showed a Navy officer in a hooded cloak, cigar in mouth, sword pointing at four Curly Brows. The four bloodied faces lay at his blade. Behind the officer, a woman in flashy pink clothes half-lay, disheveled.
The headline: "North Blue Vinsmoke Four Slain!"
The other, larger photo showed the Navy officer prominently, sheathing his sword. Behind him, a red sun rose. Before him, an old man lay in a pool of blood.
"Solitary Crimson?!"
The civilian's eyes widened, mouth agape.
...
"This should work."
In a North Blue palace, a King held the newspaper, concerned. "We paid Morgans to publish this news worldwide. It'll cause a sensation. That Navy won't threaten us anymore."
"Should work. We've done our best. Even coordinated with World Government's official news. Coverage is complete—both official and civilian." Another King added.
"We even recommended that Navy for commendation. He'll definitely be satisfied." A third King said.
"Almost there. That Navy will understand our intentions!" The final King declared firmly.
(End of Chapter)
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