"Rushing to leave?" Vi's forehead glistened with cold sweat as he faced Gern, forcing a strained smile.
"We… we just don't want to take up the Navy's time. After all, you still have missions to complete."
"Is that so?" Gern let out a light chuckle, his gaze sweeping across the deck, noting the scholars hastily packing and the bulging bundles at their sides.
"But I'm curious—why are Ohara's scholars showing up in the New World? And here, of all places, near this remote island."
Under Gern's oppressive stare, Vi faltered, words failing him, eyes darting nervously.
From the ship's cabin, Orbia stepped out, cradling a thick, heavy book.
The instant she saw Gern, her face went pale. Instinctively, she hid the book behind her back.
"T-Tenjin? A Marine Tenjin… this is bad…"
Orbia clenched her teeth. Maybe she could have faked it with some other commander, but the man before her…
Perhaps noticing her tense gaze, Gern instinctively fixed his eyes on her, narrowing them slightly.
"Tch… she really is cut from the same mold as the future Robin… except with white hair."
His gaze shifted to the book in Orbia's hands, and a small, curious smile tugged at his lips.
"That book looks interesting. Mind if I take a look?"
Orbia's panic flared. She shook her head frantically and took a step back.
"It's just an ordinary academic notebook—there's nothing special about it!"
Even the calmest scholar would falter in front of true power. Orbia was no exception. If she hadn't, this adventure ship wouldn't have been sunk at sea by the then-Lieutenant Saulro after its purpose was discovered, wiping out thirty-three people—leaving only her to return to Ohara.
"'Ordinary academic notes,' huh?" Gern's smile darkened as he walked closer. "Then why not let me see them?"
The air immediately stiffened. The scholars froze.
Vi clenched his teeth and shouted, "The Navy has no right to interfere with our research! We are scholars of Ohara. Ohara is a member state of the World Government. We are legitimate adventuring citizens, not pirates! We have the right to protect our privacy!"
"Oh?" Gern raised an eyebrow, voice playful. "Yet your actions hardly resemble those of 'legitimate citizens.'"
Ribo's ears suddenly perked up, spinning her head toward the cabin. "Gern, someone's still in the cabin!"
Gern's gaze hardened. Before he could speak, the cabin door swung open, and a white-haired elder stumbled out.
His face was pale, hands gripping an ancient scroll of parchment tightly, eyes burning with determination.
"That's enough!" the old man rasped. "Don't trouble them anymore! If the Navy wants someone, take me!"
"Dr. Kuroba!" Orbia cried out, rushing forward to support him, only to be waved off.
Gern's gaze landed on the scroll. His pupils narrowed.
The edges were yellowed with age, the surface densely covered in ancient characters, even strange symbols—identical to those on the historical texts within the Sea Forest of Fish-Man Island.
"Dr. Kuroba…" Gern murmured, already piecing together the purpose of these scholars at sea. "I see your research isn't as simple as you claim."
"Merely ordinary exploration," Dr. Kuroba drew a deep breath and faced Gern squarely.
"Major General Gern Reginald Sigmar of the Navy Headquarters. I know your name. If you still have even the slightest shred of justice in you, spare these innocent scholars!"
"Innocent?" Gern let out a soft laugh as he stepped closer. Lowering his voice, he said, "If I remember correctly, privately researching history that the World Government forbids hardly counts as 'innocent,' does it?"
The scholars' faces drained of color. A flicker of shock crossed Dr. Kuroba's eyes. "Y-you… how could you know?"
"Just a guess," Gern shrugged, his gaze cutting like a blade. "But it seems my guess was right."
The deck fell silent, broken only by the wailing of the sea wind.
Tazolo and Ribo exchanged a glance, sensing that this situation was far from simple.
After a moment, Gern's expression shifted, a spark of amusement flickering as he spoke, feigning sternness.
"Ohara scholars… sneaking into the New World to study forbidden history… what exactly are you trying to accomplish?"
Dr. Kuroba was silent for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
"We only wish to uncover the hidden truth… the history of this world should not be altered by a select few."
"Truth?" A complex emotion crossed Gern's eyes. "The more people know the truth, the more people die."
Dr. Kuroba gave a bitter smile. "Even so, we cannot stop. History must be remembered, or humanity will repeat its mistakes forever."
Gern didn't respond immediately. He turned toward the distant horizon, seemingly lost in thought.
After a brief pause, he returned his gaze to the scholars, voice calm yet resolute.
"You may go."
"What?" Dr. Kuroba froze. The other scholars stared in disbelief.
The sea breeze carried the faint scent of smoke, but Gern's tone left no room for argument.
"I said you may go," he repeated, scanning the group. "Repair your ship before I change my mind."
Dr. Kuroba's eyes lingered on the young Navy Major General, taking in his calm authority. After a moment, he nodded slowly, voice low and deliberate. "Thank you."
The scholars' tension finally eased. They scrambled to collect scattered texts and supplies.
The deck, though damaged, rang with hurried footsteps, a chaotic rhythm as if they feared this brief mercy would vanish.
Orbia supported Dr. Kuroba toward the cabin but paused at the threshold. She glanced back at Gern, her white hair fluttering in the wind, eyes filled with curiosity.
"Doctor…" she murmured, "why did he let us go?"
Dr. Kuroba didn't answer immediately, instead staring out at the horizon as if recalling a distant memory.
After a moment, he sighed. "Perhaps… it's because of his sense of 'justice.'"
"Justice?" Orbia tilted her head, confused.
"Ten years ago, when I worked at a newspaper in the West Blue, I published some of his statements," Dr. Kuroba said quietly, eyes deep with reflection.
"He said, 'Delayed justice is not justice.' And… it seems we haven't crossed the line of right and wrong in his eyes."
Orbia remained silent, eventually turning away to help the Doctor slowly step into the cabin.
Once the Ohara scholars were safely aboard, Ribo tugged at Gern's sleeve, whispering:
"Gern, you're really letting them go? Didn't you just say they were violating a World Government prohibition?"
"My little Ribo," Gern murmured, ruffling her hair gently. "You already said it yourself—it's a World Government prohibition. And who are we?"
"We're the Navy!" Ribo exclaimed, realization lighting up her face.
"Exactly."
Tazolo stepped forward, lowering his voice. "But… if the World Government finds out we let them go…"
"Let them find out," Gern interrupted, a faint, cold smile on his lips. "After all, the reputation of 'Tenjin' won't suffer from one more rule broken."
Tazolo paused, then chuckled ruefully. "Haha… that's exactly Major General Gern's style."
"Can't be helped. History's truth will always draw attention…" Gern murmured.
He turned to Tazolo and Ribo. "Let's rest tonight. Tomorrow, we head back to Marineford."
Ribo bounced alongside him, curious. "Gern… what was that history text you mentioned?"
Gern smiled faintly. "Maybe another time."
Tazolo watched Gern's back, thoughtful. He couldn't shake the feeling that letting the Ohara scholars go carried some deeper purpose.
..
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