At the same time, on the Grand Line, inside the Fleet Admiral's office at Marineford, the atmosphere was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.
"Damn it! That bastard Shiki—this old man will personally twist his head off!" Garp slammed his fist onto the desk, splitting the solid wood down the middle and sending documents and teacups spilling across the floor.
"Garp! That's the third desk this year!" Sengoku shouted, veins bulging on his forehead as he scrambled to save the paperwork.
"Can you calm down?! We still don't have proof that Zaraki was killed or captured by the Golden Lion!"
Garp whirled around, his normally carefree face taut and bloodshot.
"How do you expect me to calm down? How many days has that brat even been at sea? He disappeared in Loguetown, ship and all. Besides that old lunatic who can make things float, who else could it be?" He gritted his teeth, his knuckles cracking.
"That kid might have strange abilities, but against a legendary pirate, what is he supposed to fight with?"
"Garp is blessed by fortune," Vice Admiral Tsuru said, calmly setting her teacup on the sofa table.
"Since his vivre card hasn't burned away, he's still alive. Also, the aura left at the scene suggests an upward current."
"Arara What a scary expression, Vice Admiral Garp," Kuzan drawled, strolling through the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
"But speaking of which, that rookie Zaraki is quite interesting. If the Golden Lion really took him, he might have already ended up tens of thousands of meters in the sky."
"Kuzan!" Sengoku glared at him. "Stop making sarcastic comments."
"Since we've confirmed the general direction, send warships to search!" Garp grabbed his Justice cloak from the rack and strode toward the door.
"Even if I have to turn the whole sea upside down, I'll—"
"There is no need," a cold voice interrupted, dropping the temperature in the office by several degrees.
Admiral Akainu stepped from the shadows by the door.
He ignored Garp, walking straight to the ruined desk to toss a document onto the cracked surface.
"Mobilizing Headquarters' intelligence network and warships for a provisional trainee who hasn't even formally enlisted is excessive. If he disappeared, it only proves his caliber was lacking. The weak are not worthy of justice wasting its time."
The atmosphere grew even heavier.
Akainu unhurriedly clipped and lit a cigar while dark-red magma dripped from his cuff, burning the expensive carpet with a sizzling stench.
"Vice Admiral Garp, your personal feelings are tainting justice. If he cannot deal with an old-era remnant like the Golden Lion, then the so-called genius has never seen a true battlefield. Dying at a pirate's hands is just a form of natural selection."
"Sakazuki…" Garp lowered his head, his gray hair shadowing his eyes.
The old man's trademark smile vanished into a tight line as visible dark-red Haki surged from his body.
The air pressure plummeted, rattling the Marine painting on the wall and making the windows groan under the strain.
"You want to fight here?" Akainu didn't retreat a single step. His right arm churned into bubbling magma, melting the corner of the desk.
"Enough!" Sengoku roared, a golden shockwave forcing the two men apart.
His hat was knocked crooked as he pressed down on Garp's pitch-black, Haki-coated fist.
"Garp! This is Headquarters! Sakazuki, shut your mouth! Will it kill you to say less?"
Tsuru stood from the sofa and calmly straightened her sleeves, locking her eyes onto the back of Garp's neck—the only spot that could make him instantly cool down.
"Let go of me, Sengoku," Garp rumbled, his voice dropping into a low growl. "Of course I know who that kid is facing, but he absolutely won't die." He shook off Sengoku's hand and pointed toward the sea beyond the window.
"He's a man destined to stand at the peak of the Marines. You think a mere old lion with broken legs is worthy of taking his life?"
Akainu let out a cold laugh. "After falling from tens of thousands of meters in the sky, even a man made of iron would be scrap metal by now. Face reality! A search and rescue is a waste of resource."
"Sakazuki!" Sengoku barked, golden light erupting from his body as he prepared to forcibly silence his subordinate.
Right at that moment, a sharp shriek of displaced air echoed from overhead.
It started distant but transformed into a thunderous roar in the blink of an eye, like a meteor plummeting from the sky.
Everyone present was a battle-hardened powerhouse, their instincts moving faster than conscious thought.
Sengoku, Garp, Akainu, and Tsuru snapped their heads up.
A golden flash streaked past the window just as a lazy voice drifted through the air.
"Delivery~"
Boom!
A black shadow crashed into the plaza directly outside the Fleet Admiral's office.
The kinetic impact shattered tiles across a dozen meters, launching a massive dust cloud into the air and triggering alarms throughout Marineford.
"Enemy attack?!"
"Quick! Surround the plaza!"
The Marines downstairs fell into chaos.
At the center of the crater, Zaraki lay sprawled in the rubble for two seconds before sitting up with a violent cough.
He waved away the choking dust. "Damn yellow monkey. Is this what Admirals call gentle handling?"
Being dragged through the sky as a beam of light was worse than any roller coaster.
If not for his monstrous physique, he would have thrown up everything he had eaten in Skypiea.
He cracked his stiff neck. "Good. My hairstyle didn't get messed up."
He glanced down at his ruined clothes and sighed.
His body was coated in dried blood, fresh lightning burns, and reopened wounds, while his breathing remained rough and his spiritual pressure leaked erratically.
But he was standing, and that was enough.
As the dust dispersed, several pairs of eyes stared through the shattered floor-to-ceiling window of the office building.
The cigar slipped from Akainu's fingers.
Garp's mouth hung wide open. Sengoku froze against the window frame while Tsuru narrowed her eyes.
Kizaru slowly reformed on a nearby lamppost with his hands still in his pockets.
"Yo, old man, Fleet Admiral Sengoku," Zaraki called out, waving at the broken window with a bright grin like he had just returned from a grocery run.
"You're all here? Perfect. Saves me the trouble of reporting one by one."
Dead silence stretched for three seconds before Garp erupted into deafening laughter.
"Hahahahaha! I said it! I said it!" The old hero vaulted directly from the office window to land in front of Zaraki with a heavy boom, slapping him on the shoulder hard enough to nearly drive him back into the crater.
"Brat! I knew you were too stubborn to die!"
Zaraki's eye twitched at the impact. "Old man, I just fought two lunatics in the sky. Hit lighter."
Upstairs, Sengoku stared down at the battered young man.
He had faced the Golden Lion, vanished into the sky, and returned burned and bleeding.
Sengoku's strategic instincts recognized the shift in Zaraki's aura, the faint pressure leaking from him was alarming even from a distance.
"Zaraki!" Sengoku's resonant voice echoed across the plaza. "Come up here! I need a detailed report about the Golden Lion! Also…"
His gaze locked onto the weapons in Zaraki's hands, his eyes narrowing.
Zaraki held two ancient-looking blades.
He leaned casually against one like a walking stick, while the other hung loosely at his side.
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