The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History

Two days later.

Marine Headquarters, Marineford.

The vast elliptical military harbor was packed with a dense crowd.

As far as the eye could see, heads swayed among the masses—hundreds, even thousands of civilians stared expectantly toward the sea, holding flowers and balloons, craning their necks.

Among the crowd were reporters from various global news agencies and newspapers, armed with long and short lenses, awaiting eagerly.

Marines in uniform stood in disciplined formation, doing their best to maintain order on the scene.

"When will the battleship arrive?"

"Should be soon…"

"This really is a glorious victory…"

"They annihilated the legendary pirate Golden Lion Shiki's invincible fleet…"

"It's just too exciting!!"

"Big news! Big news!!"

Buzzing with excitement, the civilians and reporters, upon learning the battleship was about to return, had flocked to Marineford's harbor early to prepare this grand welcoming ceremony.

Toward the back of the crowd—

"Old man Kong… isn't this a bit much?"

With a cigar in his mouth, Zephyr glanced helplessly at the surging crowd and eager reporters, then at the cross-armed Steel Bone Kong beside him.

Indeed, destroying Shiki's airborne fleet was a resounding victory… but wasn't this welcome a little over the top?

He could let the civilians' enthusiasm slide, but this many reporters?

There was no doubt—it was Kong's doing.

Otherwise, with the Marine's strict secrecy protocols, there's no way the public could've known the exact time of the fleet's return.

Kong chuckled.

"Zephyr, it's been a long time since the Marines had a win like this. A little publicity won't hurt."

Zephyr fell silent, as if remembering something.

Such a decisive victory against evil pirates—nothing like this had happened since the God Valley Incident nine years ago.

That was Garp's famed "hero's battle."

Yet as a former Admiral, Zephyr hadn't participated directly, but he had always sensed something was off about that war.

Even now, whenever he asked Garp about the details, the latter would dodge, avoid, or fall into a strange silence.

If that war had truly been a noble act of defense, would Garp have held back from bragging?

The truth: the supposed victory was never publicly celebrated. All records of the event had been erased—completely scrubbed clean.

Even Zephyr, once an Admiral, had no clearance to access the God Valley archives.

From that, he had already guessed enough.

Sensing Zephyr's heavy thoughts, Kong patted his shoulder, changing the topic:

"So? Proud?"

"Darren's your student, after all."

Zephyr blinked, snapped out of his thoughts, then smiled.

"That brat never fails to surprise…"

As he spoke, he noticed among the crowd many finely dressed women and young girls—eyes turned into heart shapes—causing his lips to twitch slightly.

"Well… at least in battle, he never disappoints."

Kong laughed.

"No matter what, Darren truly is the most dazzling Marine of this era."

Zephyr nodded, turning his gaze to the group of training cadets behind him.

Aside from the grumbling Garp, all wore eager expressions—Kuzan in particular was punching the air, eyes shining with excitement.

A proud smile quietly crept onto Zephyr's weathered face.

Before he could speak, a voice rang out in the crowd—

"The battleship!!"

"They're back!!"

"They've returned!!"

The murmuring ceased. All eyes turned toward the distant sea.

Under the expansive sky, white seagulls soared.

And on the impossibly blue ocean, a majestic Marine battleship appeared on the horizon—cutting through roaring waves with victorious might, sailing steadily toward headquarters.

Its white sails bulged in the wind, the black, fearsome characters "正義" (Justice) emblazoned upon them, exuding an unmatched aura.

At the ship's prow stood a tall, imposing figure, arms folded, white Marine coat billowing behind him.

"They're here!"

"That's Admiral Sengoku's flagship!!"

The crowd erupted.

No longer able to contain their excitement, civilians and reporters lifted their flowers and balloons skyward.

Meanwhile—

On the ship.

"Eh? Why is the harbor so lively?"

Standing at the prow, Sengoku squinted at the crowd, puzzled.

"Looks like they're welcoming us…" Borsalino strolled over, rubbing his stubbled chin with a sly smile.

Sengoku frowned.

"Is that really necessary?"

Borsalino feigned earnestness:

"Why not? This was a historic victory. The crowd's probably cheering your name right now…"

"Really?"

A flicker of pride crossed Sengoku's eyes. He tried to keep a straight face, but his heart swelled with joy.

"This victory… really should be credited to that brat Darren," he said modestly.

"How could that be?" Borsalino shook his head, feigning seriousness.

"Without Admiral Sengoku's leadership, Commodore Darren couldn't have succeeded. Besides, it was your presence that deterred Shiki. Without that, we'd all be dead…"

Sengoku blinked, then slowly smiled.

"Hmm, Borsalino… you're absolutely right."

"Indeed, if Shiki hadn't feared me, he wouldn't have held back against Darren… yes, that must be it…"

The more he thought about it, the more Sengoku agreed with Borsalino's flattery. He puffed out his chest with pride.

Looking at Borsalino approvingly, he grinned:

"As expected of my adjutant. You see things clearly… I've always thought highly of you."

Borsalino smiled faintly.

"Where is Darren?" Sengoku asked, glancing around.

"He's still resting," Borsalino replied.

Sengoku considered, then said:

"Go wake him up. Tell him to prepare."

He squinted toward the bustling harbor.

"There seem to be quite a few reporters. If he doesn't show up, it won't look good."

"Understood." Borsalino turned toward the cabin.

Suddenly remembering something, Sengoku called to a nearby aide:

"Bring me a mirror!"

Since he might be interviewed soon, he had to look presentable.

After all, he'd been at sea for days. With limited resources, at least a tidy appearance was necessary.

"Yes, Admiral Sengoku!"

Soon, a military-grade grooming mirror was brought over.

Sengoku adjusted his tie, smoothed his uniform, patted down his wild afro, and finally smiled with satisfaction.

Excellent. Very sharp.

Let the cheers and interviews come!

He clenched his fist, glowing with anticipation and confidence.

He could already picture tomorrow's newspaper: himself surrounded by a cheering crowd, reporters rushing to interview him.

As the battleship neared the harbor, Sengoku stood straighter than ever.

Meanwhile, Darren emerged from the cabin behind Borsalino, yawning, half-asleep.

The ship hadn't even docked—

But already the cheers exploded like thunder.

"They're back!!"

"Welcome!!"

"Our hero!!"

Sengoku stepped off the ship with poised dignity, maintaining what he thought was an elegant smile.

Raising both hands, he began,

"No need to rush, everyone—I'll just say a few wo—"

Before he could finish, his smile froze.

The reporters and civilians surged past him without a glance—ignoring his prepared speech—and swarmed the groggy Darren, burying him in a wall of excitement.

"Commodore Darren!! I love you!!"

"Marry me, Darren!!"

"You're so handsome, Commodore!!"

"Commodore, is it true you completed the mission alone, and the others didn't really matter?"

"Commodore Darren, what's your plan for the future?"

"Please say a few words for the people!!"

"…." Sengoku stood frozen, face as dark as soot.

His hair, face, and uniform were dusted with debris stirred up by the stampede.

"What a shame… You even prepared a speech."

A lazy voice rang beside him.

Borsalino sighed dramatically with mock pity.

Sengoku's face twitched, emotions flickering wildly.

He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.

Veins bulged on his forehead. He was grinding his molars so hard they nearly shattered.

…Damn you, Borsalino!!!

---

To be continued…