"You've lost."
"I—"
"You what?"Gern looked down coldly at the motionless Ace, not withdrawing his blade right away. Instead, he spoke in a calm—almost cruel—tone.
"What do you think power is?""A Devil Fruit? Inborn talent? Or… blind, reckless courage?"
"When I first set foot on this sea, the legend of Rocks had already ended.It was the era when Roger, the Golden Lion, and Whitebeard were beginning their legends."
"And me? Back then, I was nothing more than a nameless grunt in some West Blue branch.No talent whatsoever—just a little stronger than average."
"A coward, even. Afraid of dying. Afraid of pirate wars.So afraid that I once bribed officers just to avoid being sent to battle."
"A nobody. An ant."
"No bloodline blessing. No favor from fate."
"The reason I'm standing here today is because I dared to cut off my own retreat—to gamble, to scheme, to claw out a sliver of luck for myself."(The Heaven-Shaking Fruit. Eight Desolations.)
"But even after gaining that capital, I was still weak."
"So I planned. Step by step.I used every method available to me—to learn, to seize resources that would let me ascend."(Haki. Physical techniques.)
At this point, Gern's voice rose, laughter creeping in.
"Along the climb…I once drew my blade against Whitebeard at the height of his power—and saw with my own eyes what 'the world's strongest' truly meant."
"In an era dominated by the naval academy system, in rank-obsessed Marineford—I defeated Kizaru in live combat and forced the world to remember the name Gern!"
"I cut down 'Golden Lion' Shiki at the peak of his ambition—leaving him with an eternal psychological scar, never daring to face me again!"
"I defeated the Wano hero Kozuki Oden in single combat—forcing the twin blades he was so proud of to cross against his own neck,branding him with a humiliation that lasted a lifetime!"
"I butchered Saint Gringou of the Holy Land—making a so-called descendant of gods crawl on the ground,howling like a dog!!!"
"And in the end—I personally captured the man once known as the 'World Destroyer,'Bondy Waldo."
"A monster feared by the entire world—reduced to begging me in his final moments,before I dragged him away like a dead dog!!!"
At the end of it all, Gern took a deep breath… then exhaled.His tone flattened, calm once more.
"And then… in the era when Gol D. Roger was crowned 'Pirate King'…"
"It was I who personally ended his legend—sent him to prison,and delivered him to the execution platform."
"Heh…"
Gern paused, the smile fading from his face.
"From God Valley in the year 1484 of the Sea Circle Calendar… to now…"
"I've walked this road for thirty-five years."
"I crossed the dying embers of Rocks.Witnessed the rise and fall of legends."
"I buried one era with my own hands—and ushered in a new order."
Slowly, Gern raised Eight Desolations, forcing Ace to lift his head and look at him.
And in doing so, he posed a final question—not just to Ace, but to every young dreamer who dared challenge him.
"So tell me, Portgas D. Ace…"
"On what grounds do you believe—that relying on the blood flowing through your veins,on a voyage of no more than five short years…"
"…you could defeat someone who has walked this path?"
There was no mockery.No disdain.
Only a question grounded in cold, undeniable fact.
A question heavier than any roar—because it spoke of time, of experience,of a road paved with endless battles and blood.
Ace opened his mouth—then realized that in the face of this condensed recounting of thirty-five turbulent years…
Any words he could muster felt unbearably hollow.
...
After a brief silence, Gern watched Ace—then let out a cold chuckle.
With a flick of his wrist, the black blade hovering at Ace's throat slid precisely back into its sheath.
The white cloth fragments that had been shattered into dust moments ago seemed to rewind through time—reappearing from the void, gathering, and rewrapping themselves layer by layer around Eight Desolations.
In the blink of an eye, the ominous black blade was once again sealed—restored to its unremarkable, dormant appearance.
Gern didn't spare the sword another glance.Instead, he looked back at Ace—who was still stunned by the sudden sheathing of the blade—
And spoke calmly, delivering words that caught Ace completely off guard.
"Back then… I made a certain promise to that man as well."
His voice carried an indescribable complexity—as though he wished not to speak of it, yet could not avoid honoring it.
"So…""Do you want to serve under me?"
"Recruit me?!"Ace snapped his head up, almost convinced he'd misheard.
One second ago, this man had crushed him with absolute power—shattered his beliefs with cold, irrefutable reality.
And the next—he was extending an invitation?
But the shock lasted only a moment.
Ace tugged at his lips, letting out a bitter, mocking laugh.
"If I were the kind of man who bowed to power,I wouldn't be standing in front of you in the first place—bastard!!"
The answer was decisive. Absolute.
Submit?Even if the other party was a Marine Admiral—even if he was the man who ended that man's legend—
Never.
Watching Ace bristle like a cornered flame, Gern showed neither surprise nor anger.
He hadn't truly expected acceptance.This sudden offer was more about fulfilling an old promise—
A promise he once made to Roger.
He had given Ace a choice.Ace had refused.
Cause and effect were settled.The promise was fulfilled.
"However…"Gern's thoughts shifted slightly as his gaze lingered for a moment on Ace's stubborn face—so strikingly similar to Roger's.
Ace was Roger's son.And Red-Haired Shanks—was Roger's apprentice, the one he'd raised from childhood and favored most…
At that thought, the corner of Gern's mouth lifted imperceptibly into a meaningful smile.
"Heh. This'll be fun."
He waved his hand casually.
"If you don't want it, then forget it."
"But this still isn't over."
"So…"Gern's gaze locked back onto Ace.
"You'll stay by my side for a while—obediently."
Without giving Ace time to object or protest, Gern continued,
"I'm taking you to see someone…""…someone similar to your father."
"What kind of joke is that?! Who'd stay by your side?!"
Ace erupted in fury.
"Trying to capture me? It won't be that easy!!"
Blazing flames burst from his hands once more as his eyes locked onto Gern's unguarded back.
"Now! Strike and run!"
His body lowered, power surging through his legs—burning fists about to smash into Gern's back—
But just before he moved—
"Sigh."
Gern, still facing away, seemed to have anticipated everything.He let out a faint, helpless sigh.
"Kuma."
The moment that name fell—
A presence of overwhelming pressure descended behind Ace without warning.
A colossal shadow swallowed him whole, cutting off all light and sound.
Ace's blood seemed to freeze.The flames around him stuttered and faltered.
Slowly—stiffly—he turned his head.
Standing directly behind him was Bartholomew Kuma.
So close that the sheer mass of his body felt suffocating.
Kuma's expression was blank, his eyes hidden beneath curls and glasses—utterly calm.
Perched casually on Kuma's broad shoulder was Enel.
One hand propped under his chin, the other resting lazily with the golden staff across his knee.
He looked down at the frozen Ace and spread his lips into a malicious grin as faint lightning crackled.
"Hey, fire-playing mortal…""Best not move, yeah? I'm not as easygoing as Gern."
Sweat beaded at Ace's temple. His throat bobbed unconsciously.
At that moment—
Gern, still facing away, tilted his head slightly and glanced back with the corner of his eye.
Gone was the earlier amusement.Gone was the reflective nostalgia.
What remained was only the cold gaze of someone looking down on an insect.
"If you refuse to submit to power…"
"Then you should understand—the weak don't get to choose how they die."