"Lord Trebol, you... you too?"
At this mont, Trebol's face was a picture of absolute dejection, etched with total despair. Because he was shackled in Sea Prism Stone, his "coat" made of the Mucus-Mucus Fruit's power had vanished, leaving only his true, skeletal fra exposed. It was only the heavy overcoat he wore that had made his silhouette appear so burly in the past.
Trebol lifted his head weakly, glanced at Monet, and tried to say sothing, but ultimately only a heavy sigh escaped his lips.
Shortly after, other mbers of the Donquixote Family were tossed into the hold. As one of the crew recounted the events that had just transpired above, the faces of Monet and the other officers gradually paled into hopelessness.
The heavily injured Diamante, upon hearing that Doflamingo had been kicked away by Rowan at the final mont, beca so agitated that his wounds reopened violently. He rolled his eyes and succumbed to his injuries, passing away right there in the cell.
As for the other officers, though they were loath to believe it, the truth was undeniable: given Rowan's current strength and his god-like prestige within the Navy, it was virtually impossible for their Young Master to stage a coback.
The World in Shock
Even if the Navy wanted to suppress the fallout of such a massive event, the world had no walls thick enough to keep out all the wind. By the next day, news of the "Great Incident" had spread across the entire ocean like wildfire.
As the central figure of the event, Marine Godfather Rowan's na resounded across the seas once again. It wasn't just the front pages; the second and third pages of every major newspaper were entirely dedicated to him.
"Hawkeye Mihawk Suffers Crushing Defeat! Marine Godfather Rowan Claims the Title of World's Greatest Swordsman!"
"A Lifeti of Hiding? Vice Admiral Rowan, Once Known for a diocre Record, Reveals Swordsmanship Beyond the World's Peak!"
"Shocking! Yonko Kaido Backs Down—All Because of a Century-Old Veteran!"
"The Godfather's Legend Continues: Rowan Defeats Hawkeye and Repels the Four Emperors Single-Handedly!"
"The Secret is Out! Rowan's Conqueror's Haki Crushes Kaido's Will!"
"The Godfather Returns: Does This Signal the End of the Era of the Four Emperors?"
The news agencies frad Rowan as the absolute protagonist of the incident. In their reporting, they subtly (and not so subtly) exaggerated his contribution. It appeared as though Rowan had single-handedly suppressed the Yonko crews, making him the sole architect of the event's resolution.
While these reports elevated Rowan to a god-like status in the hearts of every Marine, they also pushed him directly into the eye of the storm.
The Greats Take Note
"Hah? One man repelling the Four Emperors? What kind of joke is this?" In the Kingdom of Alabasta, Crocodile sat with the latest paper, his expression shifting unreadably. A man like Whitebeard... being "scared off"? Impossible.
On Sabaody Archipelago, at Island 13, inside "Sabaody's Rip-off Bar," a tall woman with a cigarette between her lips leaned over the counter. Her eyes flickered across several newspapers scattered before her. Every single one featured photos of Rowan from various angles. Shakky's lips curled into a grin, her interest piqued.
Creak.
The door opened, and the white-haired Rayleigh walked in. Shakky took the cigarette from her mouth and asked softly, "You're back. So? I bet the scene was spectacular, wasn't it?" With her intelligence network, she knew exactly when Rayleigh had left the island.
"Ah, I'm back." Rayleigh set down his bag, grabbed a bottle of fine liquor from the shelf, and took a massive, satisfied gulp. He pulled up a chair and sighed. "Mr. Rowan hid himself far too deeply. I'm starting to suspect he took my sword strike on purpose back in the day."
"Oh?" Shakky's eyes brightened. She stubbed out her cigarette and lit a new one. "Tell everything. Tell what really happened." She knew better than to trust the sensationalist fluff of the newspapers.
Rayleigh leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, the images of the battle flickering in his mind. "Mr. Rowan..."
The Feast in the Red-Haired Territory
In the New World, within the territory of the Red-Haired Pirates...
Shanks stood on a beach, looking at Hawkeye Mihawk. Mihawk was covered in bandages, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Shanks took a long swig of booze and laughed. "Mihawk, how does it feel to have the title of World's Greatest Swordsman snatched away? Pretty frustrating, right?"
Mihawk turned and glared at Shanks. He walked over, snatched the flask right out of the Emperor's hand, and—ignoring his unhealed wounds—began to chug.
The mbers of the Red-Haired Pirates stood frozen. Even Shanks' jaw dropped. Once the flask was empty, Mihawk slamd it onto the table, a look of pure catharsis on his face.
Wiping the wine from his lips, Mihawk looked at Shanks and said, "My title is gone. Aren't you going to throw a banquet to celebrate?"
"Huh?" Shanks blinked, wondering if he'd misheard. But seeing the serious, almost liberated expression on Mihawk's face, he burst into a roar of laughter. "Hahaha! Of course! We must have a banquet! A massive one!"
"YEAH! PARTY TI!" The crew cheered instantly. They were the kind of people who would use any excuse to throw a feast. They had been feeling a bit down because Mihawk lost, thinking there would be no fun until he healed. Who would have guessed the loser would demand the party himself?
As the revelry began, Mihawk's eyes drifted back to the newspaper on the table. The cover photo showed Rowan—stern, standing tall before a sea of Marines, a man who truly stood as a one-man army.
Senior Rowan, don't worry. I won't let your expectations go to waste.
With that silent promise, Mihawk raised another bottle and joined the chaotic celebration of the Red-Haired Pirates.
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