Meanwhile, at Marine Headquarters, an important meeting was about to begin.
For now, it remained on hold, waiting for one final participant.
A streak of golden light tore through the distant sky and descended upon Marineford, landing directly in front of the headquarters building. The light condensed, revealing the figure of Borsalino.
"It's Vice Admiral Borsalino."
The Marine soldiers who had been preparing to stop him immediately relaxed and saluted.
Borsalino did not slow down, walking straight toward the main building's conference room.
Marine Headquarters had issued an urgent summons. He had returned without hesitation, not even stopping to deal with the Marine soldiers who had been released by the Night Pirates. There were still many things he did not know about the battlefield, and Sengoku's solemn tone over the Den Den Mushi had made one thing clear. This meeting could not wait.
At this point, Borsalino was still a dutiful Marine. Lazy, yes, but not yet at the stage of sipping tea and counting the days until retirement, as he would after becoming an Admiral.
He looked slightly disheveled. Being surrounded and pressured by the Night Pirates' executives had taken its toll. Still, with everyone waiting on him, he had no choice but to rush back.
"Knock, knock, knock."
He tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open.
With a quick glance, he saw that all of Marine Headquarters' top brass were already present. Even "Black Arm" Zephyr was there.
Zephyr had long since stepped down from his Admiral position and was teaching new recruits in the rear divisions. Even so, he still retained Admiral-level authority, granted jointly by Sengoku and Kong until a new Admiral could be appointed.
For a matter that could affect the Marines' very survival, Zephyr's presence was only natural.
"Since you're here, take a seat," Sengoku said, nodding.
He then activated the projection system.
The image that appeared was Redyat interrogating Vice Admiral Atchison.
The footage had somehow been intercepted and preserved.
At once, the topic of the meeting became clear.
Even seeing it again, anger surged through the room, mixed with a deep, gnawing unease. It was impossible not to imagine how the public would react.
Without public trust, the Marines would cease to be the Marines.
Borsalino, who was seeing this for the first time, finally understood why the meeting had been called so urgently. He scanned the room again and noticed a missing figure.
Vice Admiral Makudi.
The true culprit behind the Mandara Island incident.
What had once been reported as a victory over pirates had now become a stain on Marine history. With the truth exposed and Redyat's carefully guided words, the damage to the Marines' reputation was immeasurable.
Everyone in the room knew one thing. Something had to be done.
If the Marines no longer represented justice, then their existence itself would lose meaning.
For those who had dedicated their lives to justice, this was unbearable.
"We all know why we're here," Sengoku said, standing up. His voice was low and firm. "First, Vice Admiral Makudi. No, he is no longer a Vice Admiral. He must be publicly executed to appease public anger."
Silence followed.
So complete that breathing could be heard.
Makudi's crimes had once been hidden, known only to a few. Now, the entire world knew.
This outcome was of his own making.
Makudi had already been stripped of his rank and frozen solid by Kuzan, his body immobilized with only his head exposed. Escape was impossible.
Among those present, more than a few had once shared friendly, even close, relationships with him.
"Ahem," one Marine general said, standing up hesitantly. He was known to be close to Makudi. "Is there perhaps a better way to handle this? A Marine Vice Admiral being publicly executed by our own hands may further damage our reputation."
"For example, a private disposal. No need for a public spectacle. Makudi has served the Marines for many years. Even if his achievements were not outstanding, his contributions cannot be denied."
"Hmph."
Kuzan snorted and shot him a cold glance.
"Those contributions were earned this way? You're defending Makudi, which gives me reason to suspect you aren't much cleaner. I believe a thorough investigation of you is necessary as well."
The room went colder.
"This isn't about Makudi's personal merits anymore," Sakazuki said, his voice heavy and unforgiving. "Given the current situation, he must die. Only then will the public see our resolve."
"If Makudi lives, the damage to the Marines will only deepen."
"A secret execution would accomplish nothing," Sakazuki continued. "It would only fuel suspicion. If his death can restore even part of the Marines' reputation, then it is worth it."
His stance reflected the prevailing opinion in the room.
Those who had spoken up for Makudi fell silent, letting out quiet sighs.
This outcome had never been in doubt.
Makudi had crossed a line that could not be crossed. If the truth had remained hidden, perhaps things would have been different. But now, there was no turning back.
Even if he survived, he could never remain within the Marines. And if he were discovered outside, the stain would still spread back to Marine Headquarters.
They had spoken for him. That was all they could do.
"Then it's settled," Sengoku said, nodding. "Makudi will be publicly executed. The location will be Marine Headquarters. The exact time will be announced later."
Makudi's fate was sealed.
He existed now only to be sacrificed in order to calm the storm.
"But this alone isn't enough," another Marine said grimly. "Redyat's words struck too deeply. He attacked the foundation of the Marines themselves. That pirate…"
"Which is why the second issue is the real focus of this meeting," Sengoku said, rubbing his temples. "How do we restore the Marines' reputation?"
"Capturing a few famous pirates won't be enough this time."
Everyone understood.
This situation was fundamentally different from anything they had faced before.
In the past, the Marines embodied justice. Capturing pirates reinforced that image.
Now, without decisive action, the Marines would only provoke disgust.
"How about we admit our mistake?"
The voice came unexpectedly from Borsalino.
All eyes turned toward him.
He showed no sign of nervousness, instead stroking his lightly stubbled chin as he thought aloud.
"Admitting fault is necessary. This was, after all, a Marine failure. But words alone won't be enough. Without concrete action, the public will see us as hypocrites. It could even backfire."
Borsalino's tone was uncharacteristically serious.
If the Marines collapsed, or even if they simply lost their authority, their strength would inevitably weaken. Morale would crumble. Justice that no longer felt like justice would drive people away from within.
At that point, he might have to consider changing careers altogether.
His words surprised many in the room.
The usually carefree Borsalino had been the first to offer a meaningful suggestion.
Sengoku and Tsuru exchanged glances and nodded. A record officer behind them immediately began writing.
"Just as Redyat said," Tsuru spoke calmly, arms crossed. "The Marines have rotted in places. This incident is an internal problem, and it must be solved internally."
"It is impossible to restore trust overnight. The impact is too great. But Redyat was not entirely wrong. Some of what he said reflects reality. There are cancerous elements within the Marines."
"And they must be removed."
Her gaze swept across the assembled officers.
"My proposal is simple in principle. Identify these cancerous growths, expose them, and eliminate them. Make the Marines cleaner, purer, and stronger. If we do that, regaining public trust will only be a matter of time."
She paused briefly.
"We have not completely lost the public's trust yet. They are watching our next move. As long as we act decisively, they will see our resolve."
"But if we do nothing, it could take ten years, or more, to recover."
Tsuru's words carried weight.
This crisis was both a test and an opportunity.
Many of these internal issues were things she had long been aware of. In the past, they had been tolerated for the sake of stability. Now, tolerance was no longer an option.
Cleaning house would cause pain. Losses were inevitable.
But the Marines would emerge stronger.
Sengoku's expression eased slightly.
"Tsuru," he said, "you already have a plan, don't you?"
He knew her well.
Fleet Admiral Kong, seated at the head of the table, also quietly exhaled. If this crisis dragged on unresolved, he could not step down with peace of mind, nor could he approve the promotions that were meant to strengthen the Marines.
What was supposed to be a worldwide broadcast celebrating Marine power would become a joke if handled poorly.
"I do," Tsuru replied. "But it requires approval from the World Government."
She pulled out several documents and distributed them.
"This is information on the organizational structure of the West Blue Dark Council. Focus on one branch in particular. The Dark Arbitration Court."
"As the Dark Council's enforcement arm, it operates in three areas. External warfare. Punishment of criminals judged by the Dark Tribunal. And internal enforcement."
"They possess a dedicated intelligence network that monitors the entire organization. When corruption is discovered, the Dark Arbitration Court handles the cleanup."
"This system is the reason the Dark Council has developed so quickly and remained stable, despite the chaos of the West Blue underworld."
She raised her teacup and took a small sip.
"What I propose is this. The Marines must establish a specialized internal enforcement agency. We must draft strict internal laws and enforce them without exception."
"Only then can we remove the rot from within."
She lowered her cup.
"However, doing so may infringe upon the authority of Enies Lobby."
"That is why we must first consult the World Government."