The evening sky was a reddish orange as the Navy warship cut calmly through the waves. The sea breeze filled the white sails, propelling the iron and wooden hull forward at a steady speed.
Quentin Seven sat atop a pile of ropes on the main deck, leaning his back against the mainmast. He had folded his coat of arms on his lap. His posture was relaxed, a far cry from the image of a newly commissioned Rear Admiral.
Around him, a dozen off-duty soldiers sat in a semicircle. At first, they were all tense, sitting cross-legged with straight backs like statues. But after half an hour of chatting, some had begun to chuckle and scratch their heads awkwardly.
"So, you joined the Navy because your mother was sick and needed money for treatment?" Seven asked a young, crew-cut soldier sitting closest to him.
"Y-yes, sir!" the soldier replied, his face flushing red as he wasn't used to a superior asking about his personal life. "I save my monthly Navy pay to send some back home. My mother lives on a small island."
Seven nodded slowly. "Is that island under the protection of the World Government?"
"N-no, sir. Our island is too small and poor to pay the Sky Gold. The Navy rarely patrols there."
"Hmm." Seven made no further comment, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
He turned to another soldier, a burly woman with a scar on her left temple. "What about you?"
"I want to be strong, sir," she replied bluntly. "My hometown was attacked by pirates when I was twelve. My father died protecting us. Not a single Navy ship came."
Seven stared at the woman for a moment. "No one came?"
"The nearest base was a three-day sail away, sir. By the time they arrived, the pirates were gone. All that was left were ruins and corpses."
A brief silence fell over the group. Several soldiers bowed their heads, as if recalling similar stories from their own hometowns.
"Thank you for sharing," Seven said warmly. "You may return to your posts."
The soldiers stood, saluted, then dispersed with a slightly different stride than before. They were used to superiors who gave orders from behind a desk. A superior who sat among them and asked about their mothers? That was a first.
Seven rose from the pile of ropes, grabbed his coat, and walked toward the ship's bow.
There, standing tall facing the sea with his arms crossed over his chest, was Captain Sakazuki. The ten-year-old boy looked as though he hadn't moved from his position since the ship set sail. His back was straight as an iron pole, and his eyes scanned the horizon ceaselessly.
"Aren't you taking a break, Sakazuki?" Seven asked, leaning against the bow railing.
"Rest can wait. The enemy cannot," Sakazuki replied without turning his head.
Seven smiled faintly. Just as I imagined.
"May I ask you something?" Seven gazed at the horizon, which was beginning to fade.
Sakazuki turned his head slightly, giving her his attention without letting his guard down.
"What's your reason for joining the Navy?"
"Justice," Sakazuki answered without pause. As if the word were already etched into his very bones. "This world is full of scum. Pirates, privateers, criminals. They all must be eradicated down to the roots. No exceptions. No mercy."
"Absolute justice," Seven muttered.
"Right. Crime knows no compromise. Neither should justice."
"And you chose to stay in the West Blue? Not go to Marineford?"
For the first time, Sakazuki's jaw relaxed slightly. It wasn't a sign of weakness, but something more human. He answered after a few seconds of silence.
"Vice Admiral Komei," he said softly. "That old man who took me off the streets when I was just a snotty-nosed kid. Trained me. Fed me. Made me a soldier."
Sakazuki stared straight ahead. "My parents died when I was very young. Old Man Komei was the only family I had. I don't want to go to Marineford. As long as that old man is still breathing on this base, my place is here."
Seven didn't respond immediately. He let the sea breeze fill the silence between them.
Inside his mind, Shukaku's voice whispered softly. "Hey, Seven. This kid is interesting. Hard as a rock, but there's something soft inside him."
"Shut up, Rakun," Matatabi hissed. "Let your master work."
Seven finally spoke. His tone had changed; it was no longer the casual tone of a superior making small talk. Instead, it was the tone of someone conveying something he had been thinking about for a long time.
"Sakazuki, this world isn't black and white."
Sakazuki turned his head sharply, his eyebrows furrowed.
"You said pirates are scum that must be eradicated," Seven continued, his eyes fixed on the faint silhouette of an island coming into view in the distance. "I don't entirely disagree with you. But have you ever wondered why so many people choose to become pirates?"
"Because they're greedy and immoral."
"Some, yes. But not all." Seven tapped his finger on the wooden railing. "Do you know Edward Newgate?"
Sakazuki narrowed his eyes. That name was no stranger to the Navy. "One of the pirates who recently joined Rocks D. Xebec after losing the Davy Game. A user of the Quake Devil Fruit. Extremely dangerous."
"Right. Shirohige. The man whose power can trigger tsunamis and destroy islands," Seven nodded. "But do you know where he's from?"
Sakazuki fell silent.
"His hometown is an extremely poor island. So poor that the World Government doesn't even give it a second glance, because the island can't afford to pay the Sky Gold. No Navy protection. No hospitals. No food supplies from outside."
Seven looked at Sakazuki. "The island was frequently attacked by pirates and plundered to the last scrap. And not a single Navy ship came to protect them. Edward Newgate grew up scavenging for scraps of food from the trash. At a very young age, he decided to set sail. Not because he dreamed of becoming a pirate, but because he had to become stronger to protect his hometown."
A heavy silence hung in the air.
"And now," Seven continued, "the man who was once that starving boy has become one of the Navy's greatest enemies. Shirohige. A monster whose strength could sink an island. Ironic, isn't it?"
Sakazuki clenched his fists. His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. His mind was processing something he had never considered before.
Seven straightened his posture and gazed at the island growing clearer before them.
"Imagine, Sakazuki. If every island had enough food. Decent work. Equal security, regardless of whether they could pay tribute to Red Land or not." Seven spoke calmly, but every word was sharp and clear. "If children didn't have to scavenge trash to survive. If fishermen didn't have to fear their boats being raided every time they set sail. How many of them would still choose to become pirates?"
Several soldiers standing at the nearby guard post turned their heads unconsciously. Seven's voice, usually flat and low, now carried loud enough to reach half the deck.
"As long as the Sky Dragon reigns," Seven's voice grew slightly louder, "as long as the slave trade remains legal in the eyes of the law, as long as sky gold continues to be squeezed from small kingdoms whose people are starving, then this world will keep giving birth to new Shirohiges. Endlessly. Without ceasing."
Seven turned toward Sakazuki.
"You've been patrolling these Western Seas for a long time, Sakazuki. You've wiped out many pirates. But have you ever felt that, no matter how many you capture or kill, they just keep popping up?"
Sakazuki didn't answer. But a slight tremor in the boy's shoulder was answer enough.
"My justice," said Seven, staring straight ahead, "is not about eliminating trash one by one. My justice is to free this world from the system that produces that trash in the first place."
He took a breath.
"I joined the Navy not because I believe in the World Government. I joined because the Navy is the largest military force they have. And that power, one day, will be ours."
Seven glanced at Sakazuki out of the corner of her eye. "As for finances, I already have several substantial sources of funding to support independent operations. And there are many kingdoms outside the World Government's sphere of influence willing to support a military force that offers real security and stability, not just threats and extortion."
At that moment, it wasn't just Sakazuki who was listening. Dozens of pairs of eyes from the soldiers on the main deck and the guard posts were fixed on the ship's bow. No one dared to speak.
They all heard it, and for the first time in their military careers, someone had spoken aloud what they had previously only dared to whisper in the barracks at night.
Seven looked Sakazuki straight in the eye.
"So, Sakazuki. Do you want to change this world with me?"
Sakazuki fell silent for a moment.
His piercing eyes locked onto Seven for several seconds that felt like an eternity. No nod. No refusal. Only the heavy silence of a man whose entire foundation had just been shaken, yet was too stubborn to show it.
Sakazuki finally turned his face back to the sea, his jaw clenched tight.
Seven didn't press the issue. He merely gave a faint smile, then looked ahead as well.
Seconds passed in silence.
Then, Sakazuki was the first to break it. Not with an answer, but with a voice that had turned wary.
"Rear Admiral."
Seven had already seen it first.
On the horizon, now illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun, the silhouette of an island began to take shape. However, the island did not greet them with harbor lights or the flickering torches of a fishing village.
The island was ablaze.
Gigantic flames licked the newly fallen night sky, staining the low-hanging clouds above with blood-red streaks. Thick, pitch-black smoke swirled, forming a towering dark pillar visible from miles away.
And in the waters surrounding the burning island, no fewer than eight ships flying skull flags were anchored in a semicircle formation. Their black flags fluttered wildly in the hot wind.
Eight pirate ships.
Faint screams and muffled explosions were dampened by the distance, but the Sharingan Seven caught every detail with terrifying clarity.
Civilians were running among the collapsed buildings. Several large figures were swinging their weapons indiscriminately.
And amidst the chaos, one, two, three—Seven counted at least three Devil Fruit users actively using their abilities to destroy the island.
"Three Devil Fruit users," Seven muttered, more to himself.
Inside his mind, Shukaku let out a long whistle. "Three at once? This is our lucky day!"
Matatabi opened his heterochromatic eyes; the blue flames on both his tails flared a little brighter. "Finally."
Sakazuki had already clenched his fist, his jaw set with a resolve that needed no words.
Seven broke free from the railing and turned to face all his soldiers. His eyes swept the deck calmly.
"You've just heard of my justice," said Seven, his voice cutting through the night air. "Now, let me show you what it looks like."
He turned toward Sakazuki.
"Increase the ship's speed. Head straight for that island."
"Understood." Sakazuki lowered his fist and faced the ranks. His voice boomed without needing to be repeated.
"ALL SOLDIERS TO BATTLE STATIONS! READY THE CANNONS! INCREASE THE SHIP'S SPEED!"
The once-silent deck instantly transformed into a storm of activity. Soldiers ran to their respective stations. Cannons were pulled from their covers. Additional sails were fully unfurled.
And at the bow of the ship, which was cutting through the waves faster and faster toward the blaze, Quentin Seven stood with his arms crossed over his chest.
The night wind played with his white cloak of justice, while the light of the fire from the burning island began to illuminate his face.