At best, Shirayama's current power level was on par with a division commander of the Shichibukai.
It was roughly equivalent to Monkey D. Luffy's strength after unlocking Gear Third during the Enies Lobby arc.
Was it impressive?
Not really.
Even in the first half of the Grand Line, two formidable figures could still overwhelm him: Crocodile, the Shichibukai known as the Desert King, and Enel, the self-proclaimed god of Skypiea.
However, that didn't mean his strength was insignificant. If he chose the path of a pirate, he could easily earn a spot among the Supernovas.
But Shirayama's ambitions stretched beyond that. In the grand scheme of the One Piece world, a bounty of one or two hundred million was merely the beginning.
Under the banners of the Four Emperors, even minor players often carried bounties over a hundred million. As for their core combatants? They were nightmarish entities with bounties exceeding five hundred million.
Take Rockstar, for example. With a bounty of 94 million, he was nothing more than a messenger for the Red-Haired Pirates.
A bounty nearing a hundred million meant little to the emperors to a child in their eyes.
Marine Headquarters, Marineford
"Fleet Admiral, here's an urgent report from Captain T-Bone."
In his office, Fleet Admiral Sengoku was buried in paperwork. Without looking up, he waved his hand.
"Leave it here."
The officer handed over the report, saluted, and left. Sengoku absentmindedly placed the previous document into the mouth of the goat sitting by his side before opening the new file.
"Oh? This is good news," Sengoku murmured, a rare smile breaking across his usually stern face. The tension in his brow relaxed noticeably as he read.
"Seventeen years old, Shirayama. Background unknown. Remarkably powerful."
"Single-handedly defeated the infamous Yuris Pirates of Toukai Mountain, saving the residents of Kulo Island."
"Currently uninterested in joining the Navy, but has no intention of becoming a pirate."
"Ha! What an interesting young man," Sengoku chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.
"These young folks today are extraordinary. Guess I'm getting old, falling behind the times."
The two guards outside Sengoku's office exchanged puzzled glances. The Fleet Admiral, known for his stern demeanor, rarely smiled—let alone laughed out loud.
"Ha! Sengoku, what's got you in such a good mood? Care to share?"
A booming voice echoed down the hallway, followed by a broad-shouldered man striding in with a bag of senbei snacks in hand.
He pushed the office door open without knocking and plopped himself down across from Sengoku. The Fleet Admiral's face instantly darkened.
The man was Vice Admiral Garp, his face rugged with a thick beard, and his eyes sharp as a hawk's. His mere presence exuded a powerful aura, making the air feel dense and oppressive.
"Garp! How many times have I told you not to eat those blasted senbei while I'm working?!" Sengoku bellowed, slamming his hands on the desk.
"Relax, Sengoku! It's not a big deal," Garp replied nonchalantly, casually picking his nose as he spoke.
It was clear this wasn't the first time he'd ignored Sengoku's complaints.
Sengoku's frustration grew, but Garp's carefree attitude remained unshaken. It was just another day at Marine Headquarters.
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