"Director of Impel Down is dead, but what does that have to do with the Marines?"
"Yet, they're summoning all the top Marines."
Ron threw the newspaper aside, a suspicious look on his face.
The Director of Impel Down, an Admiral-level powerhouse and a Devil Fruit user, had died under mysterious circumstances. The newspaper didn't even mention a cause of death. Something about it seemed off.
And now, the Marine Headquarters had called for a high-level meeting. If there wasn't something serious behind this, Ron didn't believe it.
"The peaceful days have lasted long enough, but I really don't want to get involved."
He stood up, stretched, and his body made a series of cracking sounds.
"Adjutant, gather the crew and open the fortress gates. We're heading for Marineford!"
Ron casually grabbed the cloak of justice hanging on the chair and draped it over his shoulders. The expression on his face hardened as he rested his hand on the hilt of Crimson Cry at his waist. The lazy air about him shifted instantly, transforming into an aura of an undefeated king, radiating suffocating oppression.
The sheer intensity of his presence caused the entire Marine fortress to fall silent.
The adjutant nearby felt his legs tremble. He gulped audibly, his eyes filled with shock as he gazed at Ron. That overwhelming aura, he'd only seen it once before—when he first joined the Marine Headquarters and stood in the presence of Vice Admiral Garp.
Had Ron already become this terrifyingly strong?
Just by standing still, his mere presence was murderous.
Those with sharp weapons often exude danger without meaning to. Likewise, those in high positions develop a natural air of authority. Especially now, after defeating both Sakazuki and Polusalino, two future Marine Admirals. Ron had unknowingly developed a deep confidence, a belief in his invincibility, cultivated after overcoming so many powerful enemies.
Even Ron himself was unaware of how much his mindset had changed.
But to those around him, the aura of a powerful, untouchable man radiated clearly from him, making it hard for others to meet his gaze.
The undead warship slowly glided out of the G8 fortress.
Standing at the bow, Ron stared out at the endless expanse of sea, a sense of heroism welling up within him. As his mind wandered, he felt a strange force within his body stirring, as if it was on the verge of exploding out of him, though there seemed to be some resistance holding it back.
"Conqueror's Haki?"
Ron narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
He wasn't entirely sure, but at least 70% certain that the mysterious sensation was probably the legendary Conqueror's Haki—an ability said to be possessed only by one in a million, those destined to be kings. Although it hadn't fully awakened, just knowing he had the potential for it was good news. Given time, it would awaken eventually.
The Marines on deck couldn't sense Conqueror's Haki, but they did notice how the Vice Admiral's aura seemed to grow heavier, more oppressive. What had once been a mere presence now made them feel like they were suffocating.
The undead warship moved swiftly through the sea, reaching Marineford a few days later.
At Marineford, countless warships lined the coast. The aura of powerful Marines filled the atmosphere around the Marshal's office.
Inside, Garp, Zephyr, Sengoku, and a few senior Vice Admirals, their hair now streaked with gray, sat upright on the large sofa. Newer Marine, like Borsalino and Sakazuki, stood silently in the corners, arms folded. Though they had the potential to become Admirals, potential alone wasn't enough.
In a world full of potential geniuses, it was rare for even one out of ten to achieve greatness. Until these younger Marines could demonstrate their true strength, they stood in the presence of the Marine veterans.
The room was silent, save for the powerful energy each Vice Admiral exuded, their auras silently clashing in the air. The pressure in the room would have made any Marine under the rank of Rear Admiral collapse, unable to breathe.
Swish!
The door to the Marshal's office swung open, drawing everyone's attention.
As the Marines turned their gaze toward the door, their combined pressure converged in the same direction.
"Uh-oh!"
The Marine generals exchanged quick glances, realizing the weight of what they had done.
The pressure of dozens of high-ranking Marine officers converging in one place was enough to crush even an vice admiral if they were caught off guard. Even someone at the Admiral level might lose months of combat effectiveness from the mental strain alone. For those less fortunate, it could break their spirit for life, leaving them unable to fight ever again.
The room's pressure and aura were far deadlier than any physical battle. The damage to a person's psyche, if mishandled, could be irreversible.
"My colleagues, why are you all staring at me? Do you want me to introduce myself?"
Ron's calm smile spread across his face as the overwhelming pressure fell over him like a gentle breeze, not affecting him in the least.
In fact, the Conqueror's Haki within him was close to awakening, itching to clash with these old-timers. But he held back. He wasn't about to let anyone, not even these powerful figures, overwhelm him mentally. After all, he had already beaten the future Marine Marshal and Admirals in a fair fight—there was no one left to fear.
Ron's dismissive attitude wasn't out of arrogance, but the cold reality that only Garp, Sengoku, and Zephyr were true fighters among the older generation. The rest? Mere formalities in his eyes.
A group of Marine Vice Admirals, sensing Ron's sheer confidence, averted their eyes, though inwardly they each grappled with their own thoughts. How could he withstand their combined pressure so easily? His future was undeniable.
Garp laughed loudly, munching on senbei, his carefree demeanor clear for all to see.
Sengoku, on the other hand, frowned slightly at Garp's attitude. His feelings toward Ron were complicated. While he hoped for a powerful new Admiral to strengthen the Marines, he also feared what might happen if Ron's hardline tendencies were to dominate the Marine.
The Marines, in his view, weren't in a position to create enemies everywhere. In ten years, the new generation would be strong enough to lead, ushering in the peak of Marine history. But for now, they needed to lay low and recover.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Ron asked, approaching Vice Admiral Tsuru, but without waiting for her answer, he sat down beside her. The other Vice Admirals immediately gave him space.
"Do you even need to ask?" Tsuru replied with a gentle tone, her eyes showing a hint of helplessness.
Though she hadn't yet developed romantic feelings for Ron, his strength had grown noticeably since the last time she'd seen him. His rise in power was almost frighteningly fast.
"Politeness comes before combat. Whether the answer is yes or no, it's always better to ask," Ron replied, folding his hands. The hilt of Crimson Cry rested lightly on his palm.
I hope your like the chapter 😊.