"Zombies that retain the combat instincts from when they were alive?"
"They can use the Six Powers?"
"Even... Haki?"
"And their physical constitution has improved by at least two or three times compared to before."
"If not for the drawback of craving raw flesh and blood, this would practically be a Super Soldier Serum."
"If this kind of thing were to spread on a large scale, let alone Marineford, even the World Government would likely collapse in an instant."
In his office, Sengoku leaned back dejectedly in his chair.
Terrifying.
Apart from this word, Sengoku couldn't find any other adjective.
It not only devours life but also steals the fruits of civilization.
Fortunately, it was contained. Thinking of this, Sengoku felt that the Marines' sacrifice was perhaps not unacceptable.
"How are you two? Are you all right?"
The sudden concern made Smoker's eyes turn red.
Smoker took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the bitterness and fatigue surging in his throat.
"I'm fine, Fleet Admiral."
"Just some superficial wounds; it's no big deal."
"As for Kuzan, he was quite seriously injured earlier."
Over three thousand elite soldiers were casualties.
This was almost equivalent to the destruction of a large branch's forces.
If even Kuzan... Sengoku didn't dare think further.
An Admiral represents the World Government's Greatest Military Power, the stabilizing force that deters the seas.
If one were lost here, or left with some irreversible disability, it would be a devastating blow to the Marines' prestige.
The Four Emperors of the New World, the Revolutionary Army, and those restless, ambitious figures would all pounce like sharks smelling blood.
"Phew..."
Sengoku forced himself to calm down, his voice raspy.
"Smoker, you just said Kuzan was quite seriously injured?"
"What exactly is the situation?"
"I want to hear the truth, even if it's the worst possible outcome."
In the North Blue, on the deck of a battered warship.
The cold wind howled, carrying the pungent smell of blood and gunpowder.
Smoker glanced at the tall figure lying on a deck chair with a sleep mask over his face, seemingly asleep.
The figure's chest rose and fell steadily, and his exposed skin had a healthy color, showing no sign at all of having just experienced a life-and-death battle.
He was even snoring.
Smoker's lip twitched.
How was he supposed to report this?
Say the Admiral was almost beaten to death, then drank a bottle of red potion and was resurrected to full health?
"Fleet Admiral, the situation... is a bit complicated."
Smoker chose his words carefully and pulled a new cigar from his pocket, only to find that his lighter wouldn't strike a flame.
His hands were shaking a bit.
"In the previous battle, to suppress the monster codenamed 'Mordred', Admiral Kuzan was indeed heavily injured."
"That monster's attacks possessed an extremely strong corrosiveness, which not only shattered Kuzan's elemental defense but even wounded his very foundation."
"A penetrating abdominal wound, damaged internal organs, plus the exhaustion of his Haki—the situation was not optimistic..."
Smoker paused, his voice low.
The muffled thud of a heavy object hitting the ground came from the other end of the phone.
It seemed Sengoku had slumped back into his chair.
"Then how is he now? Is he still alive? Are his vital signs stable?!"
Sengoku asked urgently, his voice carrying a hint of desperate hope.
"He's alive."
Smoker lit his cigar and took a deep puff.
"Not only is he alive, but... he's fully recovered."
"Huh?"
Sengoku was stunned.
Even with his mind as the 'Resourceful General', at this moment, he felt like his CPU was overloading.
"You just said he was about to enter the ICU, and the next second he's fully recovered?"
"Do you think this is some kind of game?"
"Smoker! Explain yourself clearly!"
"Don't take such long pauses at a time like this!"
Smoker exhaled a smoke ring, looking at the distant sea with a complex gaze.
"It was that man named Abel."
"He gave Kuzan a bottle of red liquid, saying it was standard-issue equipment for Foundation Field Personnel."
"Five seconds."
"It only took five seconds."
"The wound penetrating his abdomen healed before the naked eye, broken bones automatically reconnected, and even his exhausted stamina seemed to return to its peak state."
"Now, he's lying on the deck sunbathing, looking more energetic than me."
"Phew..."
Sengoku let out a long breath of turbid air, forcing his brain to cool down.
As the Resourceful General, he couldn't lose his composure.
"I understand."
"Then... what about the World Government side?"
Smoker asked tentatively.
This was the most troublesome issue.
Sengoku rubbed his temples, a trace of fatigue appearing on his face, but it immediately reverted to the majesty of a Fleet Admiral.
"Don't worry."
"In this operation, our Marines paid a heavy price; that is an ironclad fact."
"Over two thousand brave and loyal soldiers rest eternally in the sea, and even an Admiral almost perished."
"The enemy's strength is far beyond our imagination. We have done our best."
Smoker felt a warmth in his heart; he could never repay the Fleet Admiral's kindness.
"All right, Smoker."
"Bring the remaining people and come back."
"Organize the list of the fallen soldiers; not a single name must be missed."
"This is what we owe them."
After saying that, Sengoku hung up the phone directly.
"Hey, how long are you going to keep pretending to sleep?"
Hearing the dial tone from the receiver, Smoker walked to the deck chair and kicked its leg.
"The Fleet Admiral said you're to go back and take the heat."
"The Gorosei are probably sharpening their knives waiting for you."
On the deck chair.
Kuzan slowly pulled down his sleep mask, revealing those eyes that held a hint of depth within their laziness.
He sat up and gave a huge stretch, his bones making a series of popping sounds.
"Arara..."
"Sengoku-san really isn't being polite at all."
"I'm a wounded man who just returned from the brink of death."
Kuzan scratched his curly hair, looking towards the distant horizon where the sea met the sky.
There, in the direction where Abel had disappeared.
"Smoker."
"Hmm?"
"Do you think... are we really very weak?"
Smoker was taken aback.
He hadn't expected this Admiral, who was usually so lazy he didn't care about anything, to ask such a question.
"You're an Admiral. If you're weak, then there are no strong people left on this sea,"
Smoker said irritably.
"But this world isn't just this sea."
Smoker fell silent.
He remembered Abel's contemptuous gaze and that phrase: 'Low-level civilization.'
That kind of arrogance, emanating from the marrow of his bones, wasn't faked.
It was the gaze of someone looking down at ants from a high vantage point.
"Don't think too much."
Smoker relit a cigar and took a deep breath, letting the smoke blur his vision.
"I don't care what dimension they're from or what Foundation they are."
"As long as they dare to cause trouble on this sea, as long as they dare to harm civilians,"
"even if it's a god, I'll bite a piece of meat off him."
Kuzan turned his head, looked at this junior who was far more stubborn than himself, and suddenly smiled.
"Arara, that's quite hot-blooded."
"But you're right."
"This is our world."
Kuzan stood up, a chilling frost emanating from him, instantly dispersing the surrounding smell of blood.
"Let's go, back to Marineford."
"There's still a whole mess of trouble waiting to be cleaned up."