Marineford – The Heart of Justice
The moment Gern stepped onto the grounds of Marine Headquarters, Garp was the first to break the silence.
With long strides, he strode forward, his booming laughter echoing across the harbor.
"Hahaha! Well done, kid!You're the first rookie ever to make that Whitebeard bastard use Conqueror's coating!"
Gern froze for a moment.
Only then did he properly recognize the man before him—despite the youthful energy in his face, it was unmistakably Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, identifiable even more clearly by the scar at the corner of his eye.
After recognizing Garp, Gern instinctively shifted his gaze past him—to Zephyr.
The former admiral's expression was as stern as ever, revealing neither approval nor displeasure.
"Vice Admiral Garp, you flatter me," Gern replied with a slight bow, his tone calm and respectful."I only did what I had to do."
"Hahaha! Too modest!"Garp slapped Gern hard on the shoulder, nearly knocking the injured man off balance."Come on, come on—first we get you checked by medical, then you tell me everything about that fight!"
At that moment, Zephyr finally spoke.
"Garp. Enough."
"Zeephaaan~"
"He needs to report to me first."Zephyr's gaze shifted to Gern, his voice deep and commanding."One hour from now. My office. I'll be waiting."
Gern straightened instantly and saluted."Yes, Vice Admiral Zephyr!"
Garp smacked his lips."Oi, don't be so stiff. The kid just came back from a death match—"
"Which is precisely why discipline matters," Zephyr cut in.Then, softer but firm: "Go. Don't be late."
As Gern was escorted away by medical personnel, Garp rocked back and forth on his heels.
"You're always this strict."
Zephyr rubbed his brow."Garp… you know what a Logia-type Heavenly Quake Fruit represents."
For once, Garp's expression turned serious."Yeah… I know."
"That's exactly why it's terrifying."
The two fell silent. The sea wind whipped Zephyr's cape, snapping sharply in the air.
"So?" Garp suddenly grinned again, bumping Zephyr's shoulder with enthusiasm."You planning to hand the kid over to me?"
"Don't even think about it." Zephyr snorted."Go keep an eye on your own son. I've also heard you've taken Kuzan under your wing now."
Garp burst into laughter."Hahaha! I knew it! You really like that kid, don't you?"
Zephyr didn't turn back—only raised a hand in dismissal.
"Fleet Admiral's office. Don't be late, Garp."
"Yeah, yeah!" Garp replied lazily, hands behind his head."But before that, I'm stopping by Sengoku's office. That guy's definitely hiding something good again!"
The Marines at the harbor watched the two vice admirals leave, then glanced toward the direction Gern had gone.
"Did you see that? Vice Admiral Zephyr personally came to receive him…"
"They say he fought Whitebeard and lived!"
"This headquarters is about to get lively…"
Marine Headquarters – Medical Wing
The automatic doors slid shut behind him.
Gern paused in the hallway, unconsciously pressing a hand against his chest—where three ribs should have been shattered.
"…Unbelievable."
Whitebeard's final blow, even restrained, had shattered several of his ribs.
In the West Blue, injuries like that would have meant four months bedridden at minimum.
Yet now, beneath the bandages, the flesh had already healed—leaving only faint pink scars as proof of the battle.
"Do they use magic here or something…? No wonder Marines rarely die in the anime…"
He muttered softly, pressing his abdomen again.
No pain.Only the faint itch of regenerating flesh.
His thoughts drifted back to his early days in the West Blue—crude field hospitals, screaming wounded, and medicine that was never enough.
Here, even mortal injuries were merely temporary inconveniences.
Outside the corridor window, the training grounds rang with the shouts of new recruits.
Perfectly synchronized. Brimming with vitality.
Gern stopped and watched them through the glass.
Sunlight bathed their young faces—each one filled with conviction.
"Even rookies here are elite," he murmured before turning away.
Zephyr had given him an hour.
But Gern chose to arrive early.
Punctuality was the most basic discipline in Marine Headquarters.
After passing through three layers of security, he entered the Vice Admiral sector.
The corridor was silent, his footsteps echoing faintly.
Names of Marine officers lined the doors.
At the very end stood a black door.
Zephyr — Vice Admiral, Marine Headquarters
Gern raised his hand to knock—then paused.
The door was slightly ajar.
Inside, no one.
"Reporting in. Ensign Gern Reginald Sigmar."
He pushed the door open.
The office was stark—almost harshly minimal.
A solid wooden desk.Two visitor chairs.A filing cabinet overflowing with documents.
No decorations.
Only a photograph on the desk—Zephyr with his wife before her death.
And on the wall, a single calligraphy scroll:
"No Killing Justice."
The brushstrokes were powerful, almost piercing through the paper.
"…No killing," Gern murmured, staring at it.
In the West Blue, mercy was considered weakness.
Pirates only yielded to greater violence.Compassion often led to more deaths.
He had seen countless Marines die because they hesitated.
Yet—
This was Zephyr's justice.
His fingers brushed unconsciously against the hilt of his blade.
His reputation had been built upon corpses—every fallen pirate a warning to the next.
And now, these four characters stood before him, rejecting everything he had done.
"That is my justice."
A low voice sounded behind him.
Gern turned sharply.
Zephyr stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable.
"Vice Admiral Zephyr!" Gern snapped to attention.
Zephyr stepped inside, his cape swaying slightly.
"You once said, 'Justice that arrives late is no justice at all.'"
He stopped before Gern, locking eyes with him.
"So tell me…"
"What kind of justice do you believe in?"