The news spread like wildfire across the world. The title of "Four Emperors" had been officially bestowed upon the pirates of the New World. The seas, once relatively stable, were on the verge of upheaval, and the pirates were already eager to carve out their own empires. The declaration was no small thing—this title carried weight, and now the world knew that the tides of power were shifting.
Satoru Gojo leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he gazed at the latest edition of the newspaper. His fingers lightly drummed on the desk, an unsettlingly calm demeanor masking the excitement brewing beneath his cool exterior. He knew this marked the beginning of something far more chaotic, far more dangerous. With the arrival of the Four Emperors, the pirate world would grow exponentially. Ambitious souls would rise, and many would die trying to stake a claim to the title.
He couldn't help but grin. "Looks like the New World is about to become a battleground," he muttered to himself.
A sudden ringing from his phone cut through his musings. He grabbed it quickly, his grin widening. "Moses, Moses, here is enlightenment."
The familiar growl of a frustrated Sengoku echoed through the line. "Satoru, it's Sengoku. Don't play games with me. I've just seen the news, and I can already feel the storm coming."
Satoru's grin didn't fade. He knew the Warlord of the Marines would be irritable. The world was about to plunge into chaos, and the Marine's stronghold in the New World was under threat.
"Ah, Marshal Sengoku, long time no see," Satoru teased. "I assume you've seen the headlines? The Four Emperors. Quite the fancy title, don't you think?"
Sengoku's patience was fraying. "Focus, Satoru. I'm not calling to discuss their fancy titles. The New World is about to become a battlefield, and it's going to get ugly. You need to prepare. Pirates will seize this opportunity to rise to power. They'll be eyeing the Four Emperors' thrones, and we can't let that happen."
Satoru stretched lazily in his chair, clearly unbothered. "Don't worry, Marshal. We're already prepared. The pirates who dare challenge the Four Emperors? We'll handle them. I'll make sure the world understands what happens when they step into our territory."
Sengoku's voice grew darker, colder. "I'm sending reinforcements. You're going to need them. There are rumors of new pirate factions rising, and if they go unchecked, the New World will collapse into complete disorder. We've already seen how powerful the Four Emperors are. We can't afford any more surprises."
Satoru's eyes glinted with amusement. "Reinforcements? How quaint. Marshal, you really think sending more troops will be enough to handle this?" He let out a soft laugh, standing from his desk and pacing around the room. "The New World is a place where power speaks louder than numbers. And right now, we have power."
He let the words hang in the air, the meaning clear: the Marines might send reinforcements, but Satoru and his crew were more than capable of holding their own against the rising tides of chaos.
Sengoku's voice crackled with a mix of frustration and urgency. "Satoru, I don't care how confident you are. Just get the job done. We're not talking about a few scattered pirates anymore. This is about the future of the New World."
Satoru smirked, his confidence unshaken. "I'm not worried. I've seen the potential of these pirates, and trust me, we've got more than enough to counter them."
Sengoku didn't buy into his easygoing tone. "Then make sure you get it done. And don't let your ambitions cloud your judgment. Protect the Navy's interests above all."
With a slight chuckle, Satoru responded, "Of course, Marshal. We've got big plans here. But rest assured, we'll be ready. I'm already making preparations. You'll see soon enough."
The line went silent as Sengoku's frustration reached its peak. "I'm counting on you, Satoru. Don't make me regret this."
Before Satoru could respond, Sengoku hung up, the call abruptly ending.
Satoru leaned back in his chair again, his thoughts already moving forward. The New World was about to erupt in chaos, and the Marines weren't prepared for the storm coming their way. But Satoru? He was more than ready. His crew was stronger than ever, and the world was about to witness the rise of a new force.
"Well, looks like my toiling life continues," he murmured to himself. Satoru stretched his arms with a sigh of mock exhaustion, though his mind was already buzzing with plans. The war for the New World had begun, and he wasn't going to be left behind.
Turning to his adjutant, he gave a sharp order. "Gather everyone at the port. We're heading out."
His voice was commanding, and in an instant, the base erupted into action. Soldiers, pirates, and warriors alike began to prepare, gathering their weapons and gear as they lined up at the port. The New World was waiting, and Satoru was ready to take the first step in shaping its future.
The sound of boots marching in unison echoed through the base as Satoru looked on. He had no doubt that the upcoming conflict would be brutal, but he welcomed the challenge. The Four Emperors had been established, but the true battle for dominance was just beginning—and Satoru would make sure that when the dust settled, his name would be the one on everyone's lips.
The New World would belong to him. And it all started with the first move.