To be honest, it was somewhat strange that Fishman Island was only now falling under Whitebeard's protection.
Finn had always been under the impression that shortly after the Great Pirate Era began, Whitebeard had gone to Fishman Island to help his old friend Neptune. His memories from his previous life suggested the timeline should have been different.
Now it seemed some changes had occurred. Butterfly effects from his own actions, perhaps.
As for Whitebeard taking control of Fishman Island, the situation carried both advantages and disadvantages.
At least having Fishman Island fall into the hands of the Whitebeard Pirates was infinitely better than seeing it controlled by the Big Mom Pirates or the Beasts Pirates.
Given Whitebeard's personality, the Whitebeard Pirates would definitely be able to recruit substantial forces on Fishman Island. After all, it was the only route for new pirates entering the New World from the first half of the Grand Line. Whitebeard's personal charisma would convince many capable rookies to join his crew.
But then again, Whitebeard wasn't someone who liked to use force to coerce others.
Even if those arrogant and talented newcomers chose not to join him, as long as they didn't cause trouble on Fishman Island itself, Newgate probably wouldn't pay them any attention. He'd let them pass through.
On the other hand, if the Big Mom Pirates or the Beasts Pirates had occupied Fishman Island, judging by their preferred methods of forcibly recruiting or eliminating potential threats, they would gather a massive number of vicious followers in minutes.
That would be truly uncomfortable to deal with.
Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
The bar in the residential quarters. Inside the Marine Club.
Boss Po wiped down a wine glass while surveying the dismal scene before him. The usual buzz of conversation and laughter that filled the establishment had been replaced by a heavy, oppressive silence.
A major Marine defeat that resulted in the deaths of so many sailors naturally affected the atmosphere throughout Marineford. Business had been poor these past few days.
Boss Po wasn't worried about the lost profits. After all, he had no shortage of money at his age.
He just felt regret, knowing he would never see many familiar faces again. Young men who'd sat at these very tables, drinking and laughing, were now buried beneath the waves near Spring Queen Island.
"As far as I can remember, it's been many years since the Marines suffered such a crushing defeat," Boss Po murmured softly to himself, setting the glass down.
If he thought about it carefully, although the Marines weren't invincible, they had suffered occasional setbacks in recent years. For example, not long ago in the New World, Vice Admiral Borsalino had nearly been wiped out by the Big Mom Pirates.
But those had been wins and losses under normal operational circumstances, within acceptable parameters. They hadn't carried much lasting impact.
This time was different. The Marines had suffered a catastrophic defeat, the scale of which hadn't been seen in over a decade.
Particularly galling was the timing. In recent years, the Marines as a whole had been on an upward trajectory, capturing a string of legendary pirates: Golden Lion Shiki, the Red Earl Patrick Redfield, Pirate King Roger. Momentum had been building.
This sudden, devastating loss had shattered morale like a hammer through glass.
At that moment, the tavern door swung open. A Rear Admiral stepped inside, glanced around until he spotted his companions, then smiled and walked deeper into the room.
Boss Po looked up, his weathered face breaking into a grin. "Oh, isn't that Doberman? I heard you went to G-7 to work under that Finn fellow. What brings you back today?"
Doberman smiled at the older man's greeting. "The Vice Admiral returned to G-7 a few days ago and gave me leave. It's a rare opportunity, so I came back to Marineford."
"Finn's already back at G-7? How is he? Is he alright?" Boss Po's voice carried genuine concern.
Doberman waved his hand dismissively. "He's fine. Not injured. Just in a bad mood."
"Well, it's not his fault," Boss Po said, his tone softening. He obviously had his own sources of information and knew more or less what had actually happened during the battle. "None of this falls on his shoulders."
Doberman nodded firmly. "The Vice Admiral hasn't been held accountable at all. I don't think anyone reasonable could blame him for what happened."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Doberman grabbed a drink from the bar and made his way over to a table in the corner.
Several officers were already gathered there: Onigumo, Yamakaji, Momonga, Stainless, Cancer, and Strawberry. The table was littered with half-empty glasses and bottles.
Looking at their epaulettes, Onigumo and Yamakaji both wore the insignia of Vice Admirals, while the rest displayed Rear Admiral rank.
These men represented the new generation of the Marines, the third wave of elite officers.
The first wave, of course, included Finn, Sakazuki, Kuzan, and Borsalino, the so-called "monster generation."
The second wave consisted of Gion and Tsuru's other protégés like Tokikake.
The third wave sat here, drinking together despite their various allegiances.
"Doberman, come sit down!" Momonga greeted him with a warm smile, pulling out an empty chair.
Doberman didn't bother with false modesty and sat down with his glass. Cancer immediately poured him a drink, the amber liquid catching the tavern's dim lighting.
Despite Cancer's name sounding somewhat feminine, he was actually the most classically handsome man in the group and built like a brick wall.
Though they were sitting together now and appeared to be getting along well, this camaraderie existed only on a personal level. From a factional perspective, the divisions were clear.
Onigumo and Stainless obviously belonged to Sakazuki's hardline hawk faction.
If it weren't for Finn's influence, Doberman would also be firmly in Sakazuki's camp based on his combat philosophy.
Cancer and Strawberry, on the other hand, tended to favor Borsalino's approach.
Though Borsalino hadn't yet truly embraced his future role as a neutral "fence-sitter," the two officers didn't have particularly strong ideological positions either way.
Speaking of Strawberry, the man looked absolutely miserable. He was still wrapped in bandages, his left arm suspended in a triangular sling with a plaster cast.
That's right, his injuries from Spring Queen Island still hadn't healed. In fact, they could be considered quite severe.
As for Yamakaji, Momonga, and Doberman, they were Finn's most loyal supporters. Although Finn wasn't as aggressive as Sakazuki about forming his own distinct faction, he already commanded a certain degree of dedicated following.
"I haven't congratulated you yet," Doberman said, raising his glass toward Onigumo and Yamakaji. "Congratulations to both of you on your promotions to Vice Admiral. It's enviable, truly."
Onigumo, much like Sakazuki, habitually maintained a stern, almost expressionless face. But hearing the congratulations, he allowed a stiff smile to crack his features. "Thank you."
Yamakaji, however, waved his hand dismissively, his expression gloomy. He took a long drag from his cigar before speaking. "Don't congratulate me. I might be dismissed in a couple of days anyway."
Doberman blinked, confused. He turned to Momonga beside him. "What does he mean?"
Momonga's face showed helpless resignation. "Anyone with eyes knows the primary responsibility for this debacle lies with the Intelligence Department. Don't forget, Yamakaji was transferred to work under Chief of Staff... no, wait, Vice Admiral Tsuru... actually, let's just call her Chief of Staff. We've been calling her that for so many years, we're all used to it."
He paused to take a drink.
"Anyway, Yamakaji works in the Intelligence Department. In three days, he'll also be going to Enies Lobby to face sentencing."
Silence fell over the table.
Doberman was quiet for a long moment, then downed his entire glass in one swallow. "That's rough. But you've only been in the Intelligence Department for a short time, so there shouldn't be any direct mistakes attributed to you, right?"
Yamakaji slowly lit another cigar, bit down on it, and exhaled a long stream of smoke toward the ceiling. His voice carried a note of bitter helplessness. "Time served doesn't matter. This is clearly a catastrophic failure by the entire Intelligence Department. Even..."
He lowered his voice, leaning forward slightly.
"You could even say the Intelligence Department was criminally negligent in its duties. Even if I wasn't personally involved in this specific matter, even if it had nothing to do with my work directly, I'm still in trouble. Every single person in the Intelligence Department will face consequences. The lucky ones will just get demoted or reassigned. The unlucky ones will face execution after the court-martial proceedings."
Yamakaji's jaw tightened.
"Think about it. Even the Chief of Staff herself has been stripped of her position and rank suspended. How serious does that make this situation?"
The rest of the officers fell into contemplative silence, because everything Yamakaji said was absolutely correct. The scale of the failure demanded accountability at every level.
"I wonder if the Chief of Staff will..." Stainless suddenly started to say, his voice trailing off uncertainly.
But before he could finish the dark thought, Cancer shook his head firmly. "Impossible. The Chief of Staff will definitely suffer consequences, but execution? That's completely off the table. I even think that after the two-year punishment period ends, the Chief of Staff will absolutely be restored to her position."
Cancer glanced around the table, then continued. "Vice Admiral Finn said this outcome is inevitable. Both the World Government and Marine Headquarters know that the Chief of Staff must bear primary responsibility this time. But they also know how important and irreplaceable she is. We cannot erase her decades of contributions and expertise because of one mistake, no matter how costly."
Doberman nodded in agreement. "Currently, no one in the entire Marine organization can perform intelligence coordination and analysis better than her. So after her period of self-reflection and punishment concludes, she'll definitely be restored to something close to her former position, if not the exact same role."
"By the way, how is Finn doing?" Onigumo suddenly asked, changing the subject.
He was now a Vice Admiral himself, and also an old friend of Finn from the same class sixth, the others didn't think anything was wrong with him using the first name so casually.
Doberman smiled slightly. "He's fine. Really, nothing to worry about."
"We're fortunate that Finn and Lord Sakazuki weren't more deeply implicated in such a massive incident," Onigumo said quietly, genuine relief in his voice.
Strawberry, still awkward with his injured arm, spoke up. "What do you mean implicated? The Buster Call was authorized and ordered by Admiral Sengoku himself. Vice Admiral Sakazuki was merely the executor of those orders. And Vice Admiral Finn was only temporarily pulled into the operation. He even personally covered the retreat and fought a brutal battle against Whitebeard himself."
His voice took on a bitter edge.
"They did nothing wrong in the first place, so why should they be held responsible? I, on the other hand..." Strawberry looked down at his bandaged form. "I deserve whatever punishment comes."
The statement hung in the air.
Strawberry had originally been in charge of reconstruction operations on Spring Queen Island when the Whitebeard Pirates arrived. He'd been overwhelmed in the first moments of combat. In a very real sense, his rapid collapse had been one of the contributing factors to the disaster that followed.
When he said he deserved harsh judgment, it wasn't entirely unreasonable.
After all, he had collapsed extremely quickly under pressure.
But then again, thinking about it more carefully, there wasn't much anyone could have done. It was hard to truly blame him. The force that hit Spring Queen Island had been utterly overwhelming.
Cancer waved his hands at Strawberry's self-flagellation. "We're the Marines. We can't evaluate each officer as an isolated individual like this. Don't say such things in the future. We're soldiers. We succeed or fail as a unit."
Momonga nodded gravely, though his expression showed reluctance. "As much as I hate to admit it, Cancer's right. We really can't calculate responsibility on an individual basis like that. During the combat operation, Finn was the highest-ranking officer present and was commanding the overall tactical situation as an Admiral Candidate. As for Sakazuki, although the Buster Call was authorized by Admiral Sengoku, he was the actual field executor and fleet commander during the operation."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Both of them performed at a considerable level given the circumstances. But judging purely from the consequences, under Finn's command, our Marines did suffer a catastrophic defeat. And Sakazuki's Buster Call fleet was effectively shattered as well."
What Momonga said made cold, logical sense. The Marines had always operated and been evaluated as a cohesive whole. Individual heroics couldn't erase systemic failure.
The others all showed expressions of helpless acceptance at this assessment.
However, after taking another long drink, Doberman's expression brightened slightly. "What's the point of dwelling on it? In the end, the Admiral and the Chief of Staff didn't blame Finn or Sakazuki. They weren't held accountable for the defeat. So why are we sitting here sighing like old men?"
"That's true enough," Stainless said with a small smile, his mood lifting slightly.
After a bit more small talk and a few rounds of drinks, Onigumo looked toward Yamakaji with a calculating expression. "Speaking of which, this entire matter will ultimately be hung on the shoulders of your Intelligence Department. Do you have any inside information? What exactly went wrong? The Whitebeard Pirates departed from the New World, and you had absolutely no intelligence on their movements at all?"
Yamakaji hesitated for a long moment, clearly weighing how much he should reveal. Professional discretion warred with personal bonds.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice low.
"The reasons are complicated. It's not a problem at just one level that led to this catastrophe. On one hand, yes, some bastards were criminally negligent in their duties, and those individuals should absolutely be executed for their failures."
He took another pull from his cigar.
"On another hand, significant changes have been taking place in the intelligence networks throughout the New World, causing a certain degree of systematic chaos. Our Intelligence Department simply hasn't had time to adapt to the new landscape. And finally, information about the Whitebeard Pirates specifically is extremely difficult to obtain. As you all know, they're different from ordinary pirate crews. They don't have a fixed base of operations. Instead, they divide the ocean into territories and roam across several sea zones almost year-round. Unless something serious is happening, most of them never even leave their ships."
Yamakaji's expression grew darker.
"That's all I know for certain right now. There must be other contributing factors I'm not aware of. But in short, with all these elements mixed together, this incident happened through a perfect storm of systemic failures."
"What's going on in the intelligence community exactly?" Cancer asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
"I know a little about that," Momonga said, leaning forward. "I've heard that the intelligence world has entered a new round of territorial reshuffling. It's absolute chaos right now. Currently, that includes our own Marine Headquarters Intelligence Department, but also the Donquixote Family's growing network, the newly emerged Pleasure Street Organization, the Big Mom Pirates' intelligence division, various CP Agency operatives, and countless other intelligence organizations both large and small."
He gestured expansively.
"They're all fighting for position, carving up new spheres of influence, sabotaging each other's operations, stealing sources, eliminating rival agents. It's a bloodbath behind the scenes."
The officers around the table exchanged glances, processing this information.
They all looked toward Yamakaji for confirmation. He nodded slowly, his expression showing pure exhaustion. "It's true. Chaos has been brewing in the intelligence community for approximately three months now. And it's not just our Marine Intelligence Department experiencing problems. The intelligence operations of every major force around the world are probably in complete disarray right now."
He stubbed out his cigar in a nearby ashtray with more force than necessary.
"That's exactly why I said this disaster was caused by a convergence of multiple systemic factors, not just one department's failure. We're all operating blind right now, and the consequences are written in the blood of thousands of sailors."
The table fell silent again, each officer lost in their own thoughts about the precarious state of global intelligence networks and what it meant for future operations.
Outside the Marine Club, the sun was setting over Marineford, casting long shadows across the fortress city. The weight of recent defeat still hung heavy in the air, but inside the tavern, these young officers shared their burdens together.
It was all they could do for now.