At Marine Headquarters, Sengoku paced back and forth in front of his office desk, his gaze fixed on the Transponder Snail connecting him to Garp's warship. As Fleet Admiral, standing at the pinnacle of the Marines, few things could unsettle him.

But this situation involved a Warlord and the Marines' most promising rookie. If things went awry, the consequences could be dire.

"Fretting won't change anything, Sengoku." Borsalino, ever the nonchalant observer, lounged on a nearby sofa, taking a leisurely sip from his teacup before speaking. "You know that."

Upon returning from Mary Geoise, Sengoku had immediately convened a meeting with the Vice Admirals and Admirals currently stationed at headquarters. Borsalino, having just returned from a mission, was present as well.

"Don't be so relaxed, Borsalino…" Sengoku grumbled. "When will you ever learn to take things seriously? You and Kuzan are both the same, always so laid-back!"

"Oh my, Sengoku-san. Feeling a bit targeted here." Kuzan chimed in.

He was even more relaxed than Borsalino, sprawled out on the floor, seemingly about to drift off to sleep. Akainu, his fiery counterpart, fumed beside him, his fists clenched, molten lava crackling around him, raising the temperature of the room.

Borsalino chuckled. "Well, both Moria and Crocodile were among the most promising rookies years ago. They ventured into the New World and clashed with those monsters, Kaido and Whitebeard, respectively, and survived. Then they received invitations from the government to become Warlords…"

"I know!" Sengoku interrupted, his voice laced with tension. That was precisely why they had been chosen as Warlords.

Tsuru, the Marines' Head Strategist, sat beside Sengoku's desk, her gaze calm and composed. "But this boy is certainly bold, isn't he? Such intense hatred for pirates…"

"Well, he did survive an encounter with them. I'm curious who his next target will be. Both Moria and Crocodile challenged Yonko and failed. The only other Warlord with a similar experience is Doflamingo, who usurped a throne and possesses knowledge of an ancient weapon. Or will he go straight for a Yonko?"

From their first meeting, Tsuru had sensed that Ian was destined for greatness. His Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, his swordsmanship, the confidence and determination in his eyes, qualities lacking in many of the current Vice Admirals. He possessed an unsettling calmness.

Even seasoned Vice Admirals trembled before the might of Admirals and Yonko.

But Ian's gaze had remained unwavering, whether facing her, the Marines' Head Strategist, or Garp, the hero of the Marines.

Such an attitude in an ordinary individual would be dismissed as conceit. But coming from Ian, who had defeated Gecko Moria before even reaching headquarters, it was different.

Perhaps his heart had hardened, consumed by a desire to eradicate all pirates. If Ian were present, he would have cried out in protest.

Ulquiorra was simply born with a stoic expression. He would have insisted that beneath his mask of indifference lay a vibrant and playful personality. He would have confessed to trembling before their presence.

"You seem to have high hopes for Ian, Tsuru."

Sengoku looked at Tsuru, a hint of surprise in his voice.

While he also believed Ian possessed the potential to become an Admiral, that was a future possibility, not a present reality. At this rate, he feared Ian might abandon Marine Headquarters and seek out another Warlord, potentially losing his life in the process.

The Four Emperors, the Seven Warlords, and the Marines formed a delicate balance of power in the world. While the Warlords were the weakest of the three, together they rivaled a single Yonko crew. They were seven individuals standing at the pinnacle of power.

Tsuru didn't shy away from Sengoku's observation. "However, he's only been a Marine for a short time. It's unclear what his sense of justice truly is. Is it simply hatred for pirates? In that regard, he's similar to you, Akainu."

Every Admiral, even during their early days as Marines, had developed their own interpretation of justice. Perhaps Ian, being a recent recruit, was merely driven by a desire for power, a tool to fuel his vendetta against pirates.

She had limited interactions with Ian.

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Perhaps Momousagi felt the same way. Their encounter had been brief, lacking any meaningful conversation.

"So that boy does have some sense of justice." Akainu cracked a rare smile, his gruff voice softening slightly.

He and Ian shared a similar past, their families torn apart by pirates, their lives saved and shaped by the Marines. Naturally, they both harbored a deep-seated hatred for pirates.

He even felt a surge of excitement, wanting to join Ian in his quest. Who was his next target? He would gladly lend his strength.

The other Vice Admirals remained silent, including Onigumo, who had mocked Ian months earlier. Now Ian had silenced them with undeniable results.

"Z, when will he be returning? He's already eliminated quite a few pirates." Tsuru inquired.

"Soon. I initially considered sending Ian to Z's training camp, but after his victory over Moria, we had no choice but to grant him the rank of Vice Admiral. If all else fails, we might have to turn to that pirate…" Sengoku replied, his thoughts drifting to a specific individual.

Edward Weevil, the self-proclaimed son of Whitebeard. The truth of his lineage remained uncertain.

His mother, Miss Bakkin, had indeed served on Whitebeard's ship, and Whitebeard was known to have several leopard-print nurses among his crew. Therefore, the claim wasn't entirely implausible. Weevil had gained notoriety for wiping out Z's entire class of Marine recruits six years ago.

He had even severed Z's arm, forcing the former Admiral to rely on a mechanical prosthetic. Despite his age, declining health, and asthma, Z was still a formidable force, his bounty standing at 480 million berries.

Weevil possessed monstrous strength reminiscent of Whitebeard in his younger days. Z, once a compassionate Marine who refused to take a life, had become a ruthless vigilante, leading a crusade against pirates. If they recruited Weevil…

They were certain Z would sever ties with the Marines. Thirty-two years ago, at the age of 42, Z's family had been murdered by pirates, fueling his hatred and leading him to submit his resignation. However, his superiors had convinced him to remain, granting him the honorary title of "Instructor."

Four years later, at the age of 73, he discovered that the pirate who had severed his arm and slaughtered his students had become a Warlord of the Sea. Disillusioned and distrustful of the Marines, he had resigned, forming the Neo Marines with the goal of eradicating all pirates.

He had then clashed with Monkey D. Luffy, ultimately dying in battle against the Marines. His three most promising students, Kuzan, Borsalino, and Akainu, had witnessed his demise, one giving the order, one carrying out the execution, and one burying his body. A tragic end to a noble life.

Suddenly, the Transponder Snail on Sengoku's desk rang. His eyes narrowed, and he immediately answered the call.

"Garp, you fool! It's been months! Why haven't you returned to headquarters?" Sengoku roared.

"Ahahaha! My apologies, Sengoku. I made a detour to the South Blue to recruit that Kid, Kid, as a replacement for Ace. Who knew the boy would be so quick on his feet?"

"He completely outran me, yelling about how he wouldn't become a Warlord, how he was going to be the Pirate King! He said he'd consider defeating the Warlords!"

"So, I went back to East Blue and gave that Kid a good scolding. But they're both so obsessed with becoming king! I tried to cure their delusions with my Fist of Love, but it didn't work!"

"..." A stunned silence fell over the room. So, the true purpose of his journey had been to visit his grandson.

Sengoku and Tsuru, both Garp's contemporaries, understood the weight of the burden he carried, the facade of laughter concealing a heart heavy with responsibility and sorrow.

"Never mind that! Where are you? Ian said he was going to East Blue. He's already defeated Crocodile and Diamante, one of Doflamingo's executives. I'm worried Doflamingo might come after him!"

"There have been cases of pirates crossing seas to settle scores. While defeating Crocodile indicates Ian's strength is comparable, Doflamingo is a seasoned veteran with a cunning mind. I fear Ian might lose."

Sengoku's voice was laced with concern. Garp replied,

"Ahahaha! That's the boy I admire! Always getting things done! Don't worry, Sengoku. He's on my ship. We'll be arriving at headquarters soon."

Sengoku breathed a sigh of relief. Garp was the man who had chased Gol D. Roger across the world, the man who had fought alongside Roger to bring down the Rocks Pirates.

"And besides, is Doflamingo even a match for him? Ian just had a spar with Mihawk, a pure sword fight, no Devil Fruit powers involved. It ended in a draw, with Ian only sustaining minor injuries."

"..." Time seemed to freeze in the meeting room, the silence so profound that they could hear the faintest sounds. The world was about to be turned upside down.

Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, a man whose swordsmanship rivaled that of Shanks, a Yonko. A figure who transcended the Warlords!

Ian had defeated Crocodile and then clashed with Mihawk, a pure sword fight, no Devil Fruit enhancements. Even Doflamingo wouldn't stand a chance.

Had Ian already reached Admiral level? It had only been a few months since his arrival.

No, not yet. He had sustained injuries, after all. Mihawk lacked the monstrous physical resilience granted by a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit. But it was still a staggering feat. He could certainly defeat Doflamingo.

His power was skyrocketing at an alarming rate. It was unnatural, almost unbelievable.

"Hello? Is anyone there? I'm hanging up!"

On the other end of the line, Garp, met with silence, finally ended the call. Even Kuzan and Borsalino were wide awake now, their usual lethargy forgotten.

Meanwhile, in Alabasta, a vast desert kingdom with an army of 600,000 soldiers, Nefertari Cobra, the twelfth king and Vivi's father, sat on a chair on the balcony of his palace, gazing out at the endless expanse of sand. In his hand, he held a copy of the latest newspaper.

"It seems our kingdom has narrowly avoided disaster. What are your thoughts?"