Chapter 38: Fleet Admiral, Are You Returning To The New World?
In a world where creatures like the Den Den Mushi exist, the transmission of news is extremely fast.
The banquet in Dressrosa continued from noon until late at night, and finally, at Elus’s request, this feast that seemed like it could last until the next day came to an end. Afterward, he returned to his flagship with his aides-de-camp, rejecting the invitation to stay overnight in the Royal Palace.
As soon as he boarded the ship, before he could even sit down steadily, Fran stood in front of him holding a Den Den Mushi that wouldn’t stop ringing.
“It’s former King Sokachio.”
Fran said softly.
“Grandfather? What happened again?” Elus muttered, took the Den Den Mushi, and picked up the microphone.
“Hello?”
Before the words had even fallen,
“Yo! El, it’s Grandfather!”
The familiar loud voice made Elus dig into his ear with his pinky finger. Only after that booming laughter stopped did he speak up and ask: “Grandfather, what happened again?”
“I heard about it!”
“What?”
“You taking down Umit! This matter has already spread throughout the New World, and even the World Government has received reports from below. The King of Maritime Transport has fallen, and the New World is about to face another wave of turmoil······ The Navy is urging for money, warships, equipment again. I’m just a small Gun Barrel Manufacturing Bureau Director. Why come to me about gun stock issues? Go to the Gun Stock Manufacturing Bureau! It’s simply annoying to death.”
Red Line, an office building of the World Government—this is the territory of the Gun Barrel Manufacturing Bureau.
The World Government is a colossal entity beyond ordinary people’s imagination. It possesses over 170 affiliated nations and also controls the Red Line, the world’s only continent. To rule such a vast territory naturally requires an equally massive governing body.
Ever since the Twenty Kings established the World Government eight hundred years ago, after eight hundred years of development, the World Government has long since become a bloated, gigantic monster.
Those who cannot access the inner workings of the World Government can never imagine the extent of its bloat. For example, the production of a single firearm is subdivided into over twenty manufacturing bureaus, with relationships so complex that every new official feels like they’ve fallen into a fog.
Of course, this can also be seen as a society of refined division of labor, an inevitable trend of development.
However,
Take the Gun Barrel Manufacturing Bureau: the civilian staff exceeds fifty people, half of whom are nominal, the kind who take salary without doing work. The other half are mostly lax, showing up sporadically, and even when they do, they only handle some meaningless official documents.
The truly busy ones are only the frontline workers and on-site managers, yet these people hold the lowest status. The workers can only support their families with meager salaries—salaries so small they can’t cover any extra expenses. Even a minor accident means the ruin of a family.
The World Government’s deformities and perversions are vividly embodied in these details.
But,
Extraordinary martial power suppresses the possibility of uprisings among the common folk. The blood on the Celestial Dragons’ slaughter blades has never cooled. Without martial power to rival the World Government, a bottom-up revolution is basically impossible.
“······El, the commotion you’ve stirred up this time is no small matter!”
Sokachio, sitting in his office, rambled on with a bunch of nonsense before finally returning to the main topic.
This was a very handsome old man. His grayish-white short hair was neatly groomed, his emerald green eyes bright and sharp, without the slightest turbidity common in old people. A tailored suit perfectly accentuated his aged yet robust, magnified physique, and the faintly visible sharp, defined muscle contours were enough to make many young girls’ eyes sparkle with admiration and their brows bloom with spring.
He was holding a cigar in his mouth, sitting in a new genuine leather office chair, blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling. His gaze fixed on the bright full moon as large as a jade plate outside the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and he continued:
“From the intelligence I have, Umit had no relation to the World Government. This time, the internal discussions in the World Government are basically about who will replace Umit as the next King of Maritime Transport in the New World. If there are no major changes, I estimate the World Government won’t intervene in this event.”
“After all, the New World is, in a sense, a fallen zone, a lawless land not under the Holy Land’s jurisdiction. The Holy Land is quite happy to see chaos erupt within the New World. But the Navy—I’m not too sure what the Navy will do.”
The old man said so.
The Navy is the World Government’s official armed force, the largest military organization in the world.
As the saying goes, in a big forest, all kinds of birds exist. In such a massive institution as the Navy, there are naturally many discordant voices. The three Navy Admirals each uphold different concepts of justice, giving rise to different factions. Not to mention the internal struggles within the Navy, the conflicts between the Navy and the World Government, and between the Navy and Marie Geoise, have never ceased.
The Navy is a direct organization under the World Government and, in principle, should obey the World Government and the Holy Land’s commands. In fact, the Navy does so, but at the same time, it has never given up its right to act independently. Through repeated clashes with superiors, the Navy has learned to exploit loopholes in the Holy Land’s orders, attempting to seize more power.
Ever since being swept clean of most of its forces in the New World by the Four Emperors, returning to the New World and reasserting control over this chaotic lawless land has become the Navy’s obsession.
“The Navy has never thought of abandoning the New World. On the contrary, they have always been striving to return, demanding funds, equipment, power······ For these trivial matters, that Fleet Admiral Sengoku of the Navy hasn’t quarreled less with the Five Elders.”
“El, with Umit down this time, the New World magnates are reshuffling. The Navy might see it as a good opportunity to return to the New World. El, I heard your old man say you want to snag a Seven Warlords position to play around with? You’re sure you’re not joking with your old man?”
“It’s real.”
Elus picked up the scalding coffee milk, took a gentle sip, savoring the sweet aroma in his mouth, a contented expression on his face. “Also, don’t say it like I’m not doing proper work. The Seven Warlords aren’t some shameful thing!”
“So, El, you’re really planning to take over Umit’s legacy. Are you intending to become the next King of Maritime Transport in the New World?”
Sokachio pressed.
“My trophy—I don’t plan to let others take a cut.” Elus said casually.
Hearing this not-unexpected answer, Sokachio still felt waves of headache. “El, have you really thought it through? The Seven Warlords look prestigious, but it’s just a big mud pit. If you jump in, even if you climb out, you’ll be covered in mud.”
“Killing Umit has already shown our friends and enemies the muscle of Eckmond Kingdom’s next King. Your performance was perfect. Neither I nor your old man were as outstanding back then. You really have no need to get involved in the troublesome maritime transport business in the New World!”
Sokachio earnestly persuaded this outstandingly excessive grandson to abandon that dangerous idea.
Yes,
In Sokachio’s view, Elus’s idea was very dangerous.
Accustomed to biding time and tending to Eckmond Kingdom’s patch of land, slowly developing—the old man was not used to Elus’s aggressive ideas.
“Grandfather, no need to rack your brains. Once I’ve decided, I won’t change it lightly.”
Elus interrupted the persuasion.
“Don’t forget, the New World is actually a very simple world. Here, the strong reign as kings, and the victors are the true justice······ And I, Sokachio Elus, Crown Prince of Eckmond Kingdom, prefer the reputation of Black Emperor over the title of Black Prince in the future.”
The Den Den Mushi fell silent.
Sokachio in the office was stunned by his own grandson.
He didn’t even notice the cigar falling onto the table.
Black······Emperor?
In this era, the ancient title of ‘Emperor’ is rarely used by countries. In the recent decade or so, it has gradually become the title for great pirates. After the four Pirate Emperors fully established supreme authority in the New World, ‘Emperor’ became the exclusive term for the most powerful pirates.
“El, you’re going to become a pirate······ No, wait, that······”
Sokachio’s mind was a bit chaotic.
He understood that what Elus meant wasn’t literally becoming a pirate at sea, but referring to status—he planned to become an existence as powerful as a Pirate Emperor. That was even more worrisome than becoming a pirate. Ambition too great isn’t a good thing—
However,
This grandson seemed to have strength matching his ambition.
Black Emperor—this title might not just be absurd delusion.
“·····El, don’t casually say such things anymore. You······ Fine, do whatever you want! I’ve realized my experience and lessons may not suit you······ Anyway, no matter what you plan in the future, try to preserve the foundation left by our ancestors. Don’t······ That’s it!”
Sokachio picked up the cigar from the table and tossed it into the ashtray.
After chatting a few more sentences with his most valued eldest grandson, he hung up the Den Den Mushi, stood up, walked to the window side, looked up at the full moon through the glass, his emotions surging, still not recovered from the conversation’s aftertaste.
“Pirate Emperor······Seven Warlords······”
He let out a deep breath, and finally, a weary expression fitting his age appeared on his face.
“A dumb kid is no good, but one too smart is also trouble! However······Black Emperor, that’s indeed a pretty good name!”
————
Gazing up at the same full moon in the sky.
Different people naturally have their own different moods.
This is Marineford, Navy Headquarters, the great camp of millions of Navy worldwide, a terrifying region that countless pirates fear like tigers.
“Tsuru, calling a meeting so late—thanks for your hard work.”
“Sengoku, what exactly happened? An emergency meeting at this hour?”
“It’s a major event. You can take a look at this intelligence first. Not everyone is here yet—wait a bit more.”
The Navy’s highest authority, known as “Buddha Sengoku” and “Wise General Sengoku,” the current Fleet Admiral Sengoku pushed the document from his hand to Vice Admiral Tsuru sitting at his right. His long braided beard gently tapped the table with his movement, and complex lights flickered in his eyes under the frog glasses.
“This is······”
While Vice Admiral Tsuru was speed-reading the document.
Someone else pushed open the conference room door and walked in.
“Sakazuki, you’ve arrived!”
Watching the man enter, dressed in a dark red suit, wearing a Navy cap, black leather gloves on his hands—he had a hard, chiseled face like it was axe-hewn, with awe-inspiring dominance in his brows that could scare many.
Sengoku nodded lightly in greeting.
“Fleet Admiral, what happened?” Sakazuki casually picked a seat and sat down, asking in a deep voice.
“Hahaha! Sengoku, Tsuru, you got here too fast, huh? Oh, Sakazuki brat’s here too!” Before Sengoku could answer Sakazuki’s question, the conference room door was slammed open again, and a laughing old man rushed in.
“Garp, you bastard, sit down properly.”
At the current Navy Headquarters, of the three Admirals, Admiral Borsalino codenamed Kizaru commands the Navy’s Science Unit and is personally protecting Doctor Vegapunk, who is conducting research on the New World island ‘Punk Hazard.’ Admiral Kuzan codenamed Aokiji recently went out on a mission and is still on it.
So,
Only Admiral Sakazuki codenamed Akainu is holding down the fort at headquarters.
The lineup in the conference room right now is already the full highest combat power that headquarters can muster.
“Everyone’s here. No need for opening remarks so late at night—I’ll get straight to it.” Fleet Admiral Sengoku cleared his throat, passed the document Vice Admiral Tsuru had finished to Sakazuki, and said: “Not long ago, the Base Commander of the New World G5 branch, Vice Admiral Vergo, sent back a piece of intelligence.”
“Umit was killed.” He said word by word.
“Umit? Who was that······ Ah! That guy in the New World who calls himself the King of Maritime Transport?”
Vice Admiral Garp, picking his nose, tried hard to recall and remembered a vague impression.
“That’s right, the King of Maritime Transport.” Sengoku nodded.
“I’ve met that guy before. I remember his fist fighting was sloppy, and his physique wasn’t great······ Well, barely a decent hand. To take down Umit—was it that crazy bitch BIG·MOM who did it? Or her sons?” Vice Admiral Garp didn’t even look at the document Sakazuki pushed over, just kept pestering Sengoku with questions.
“Sakazuki, finished?”
Sengoku ignored this old bastard who loved to stir trouble and only asked Sakazuki, “Any thoughts?”
“Sokachio Elus····· Not a pirate, but still an unstable factor. This guy who won’t stay obedient must be punished.”
“Ah? Don’t talk about that. World Government member nation—that troublesome stuff can wait. I want to know your view on the future situation changes in the New World.”
“······Fleet Admiral, are you preparing to raise troops and return to the New World again?”
