Chapter 267

As Sengoku stood at the head of the room, contemplating his next move, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted. His sharp gaze snapped towards the entrance, which creaked open as a CP0 agent, cloaked in their signature ornate mask and white suit, casually stepped inside.

The meeting room was filled with high-ranking Marines, strategists, and a few selected members of the Warlords, all eyes instinctively turning toward the new arrival. However, it wasn't the CP0 agents themselves that captured the attention of the room.

No, it was the three figures that followed them.

A tense silence fell over the room. Not many of the Marines present recognized the newcomers—yet those who did felt their blood run cold. The atmosphere grew stifling. But the one who reacted most violently was 'Ironjaw' Ochoku, a former pirate turned Marine ally. His sharp intake of breath was audible, and his usual composure cracked. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the trio in front of him.

He knew these faces all too well.

They had been dead—or so everyone had believed for years—killed by the very hands of the man he once served under: Rocks D. Xebec. Yet, here they stood, flesh and bone, as if they had simply walked out of legend.

"You..." Ochoku's voice trembled, unable to mask his confusion. "How?"

The pirate leading the trio stepped forward, his presence suffocating, his eyes dark and amused. He towered over the room at nearly four meters tall, his seaweed-green hair cascading down his broad back like the kelp of the darkest ocean trenches.

His deep blue eyes gleamed with mischief as if the entire Marine Headquarters was nothing more than a joke to him. His pale, ghostly skin and the tattered naval coat he wore only added to his haunting appearance.

"Well, well," the pirate guffawed, his voice booming across the chamber. "If it isn't the lapdog of Xebec. What's this? Have you traded one master for another? Now the government's lapdog, are we?"

The Marine officers stiffened at his words, and several gasps escaped as the pirate casually uttered the forbidden name—*Xebec*—whose very existence had been erased from history by the World Government.

The silence in the room grew heavier, oppressive, like the air before a storm. But the towering pirate—Dorian LaCasse, once known as the Drowned King—paid no mind to their shocked faces. His sharp, cold eyes roamed lazily over the grandiose meeting hall.

"Not bad," he sneered, his lip curling as he glanced around. "The government sure spends a pretty penny to make its Marine headquarters look so impressive. Pity they can't do their job well enough to keep the world in line without begging us for help."

"LaCasse…" Sengoku growled, recognizing the man instantly. His fists clenched at his sides.

Dorian's presence in the room was chilling, but he wasn't alone. A second figure glided in after him, equally dangerous in her aura. She was tall, around three meters, and moved with the grace of a predator. Her raven-black hair was tied back in a high ponytail, and her sharp golden eyes gleamed like a hawk's.

She wore a crimson and black kimono, embroidered with a dragon motif in gold, the intricate design only adding to her lethal beauty. A vivid crimson dragon tattoo spiraled around her arm, disappearing beneath her sleeve.

"Well, we're all here to serve the same master now, aren't we?" She said in a soft, teasing voice, though her words carried a deadly undertone. Her eyes flickered toward Ochoku, then over to Sengoku, before resting briefly on Vice Admiral Tsuru, whose breath hitched.

"Izumi…" Tsuru whispered, barely audible, her usually calm demeanor cracking under the weight of old memories. Izumi Arakaki, the 'Crimson Tempest,' had once been one of the most feared pirates in the New World, her name synonymous with death and destruction. If Xebec hadn't risen to power, she would likely have ruled the seas in his stead.

Izumi's gaze swept across the room with cold amusement, but her eyes narrowed as they landed on one particular figure: Dracule Mihawk, the legendary swordsman seated casually at the Shichibukai's table. Her lips curled into a predatory smile.

"A young swordsman, huh? You have the spirit and strength to carry the title of Warlord," she mused aloud, her voice rich with intrigue. "Tell me, boy, would you like to join my crew?"

Mihawk didn't even deign to glance at her. His cold, yellow eyes remained fixed on his glass of wine, sipping leisurely as if she were beneath his notice.

Izumi's eyebrow twitched, a flicker of irritation breaking through her composed façade. "Tch, such a spoilsport," she chuckled, but her tone was sharp. "Cross my path on the seas, and I'll be sure to tear you apart."

Mihawk responded with a faint snort, a dismissive sound that only made Izumi's frown deepen.

But even the deadly calm of these two powerhouses paled in comparison to the presence of the third pirate who entered last.

Scarlett Lachlan, the infamous 'Bloodsteel,' stepped forward, her fierce gaze zeroing in on a single figure—*Bogard*. She hadn't spoken a word since entering, but the moment her eyes landed on the Marine, her aura shifted.

"Where is he?" Her voice was low, venomous. "Where is Garp?"

A sudden wave of Conqueror's Haki exploded from her, shaking the very foundation of the building. Marines flinched, some falling to their knees as they struggled to breathe under the pressure. But Bogard remained steadfast, standing tall against the invisible force, his eyes locked on hers. His hand was already on his blade, just in case.

Scarlett chuckled darkly as she reined in her Haki, her mechanical left hand glinting in the light as she flexed it. "So the little pup has grown into a wolf. Impressive. But I still owe that bastard Garp for this," she sneered, lifting her metallic arm. "One day, I'll tear a limb from him… limb for limb."

Bogard's expression tightened, his calm demeanor cracking. Scarlett's bloodlust was infamous, but her grudge against Garp was personal. She was the only pirate who had fought Xebec on equal ground, a feat that very few could boast. Her enmity with Garp ran deep, and Bogard knew the woman standing before him was more dangerous than anyone in the room could comprehend.

"Hmph. If Garp-san hadn't shown you mercy, you wouldn't be alive to talk so big now," Bogard snapped, his usual composure strained.

Scarlett's lips curled into a cold smile. "Mercy? No. Garp didn't spare me out of kindness—he simply didn't want to owe me anything. Remember, I spared your life that day, back when you were just a little pup. He was repaying that debt."

Bogard's face darkened at the memory, his grip tightening on his sword. She wasn't lying, and the bitter truth of it still stung. But he knew one thing: these pirates, despite their age, were as dangerous now as they had ever been. The world was already spiraling into chaos, and the presence of these monsters in the same room only made the situation more volatile.

Scarlett settled into one of the vacant chairs, her mechanical arm resting on the table as she continued to gaze at Bogard with a twisted smile. "I'll find him someday," she whispered, almost to herself, "and when I do, there'll be no mercy."

The room was filled with an oppressive tension. These three pirates—Dorian LaCasse, Izumi Arakaki, and Scarlett Lachlan—weren't just relics of a bygone era. They were monsters, each capable of toppling nations, each with the blood of Marine Admirals on their hands.

The fact that the World Government had approached them, sought them out, and invited them into this room, spoke volumes. They were desperate. Desperate enough to play a game that not even the World Government could control.

As the tension in the room grew unbearable, the CP0 agent who had escorted the pirates stood frozen, eyes wide behind his mask. Even he, with all his training, felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. These pirates were wild, unpredictable, and more dangerous than even the former Warlords of the Sea. If they chose to band together, they could topple Marine Headquarters within moments.

And with both Admiral Hazard and Admiral Raylene out on the seas, Marineford stood perilously vulnerable.

Sengoku's gaze swept the room, his mind racing. What was the World Government thinking? This was a dangerous game, one that could easily spiral out of control, even for them.

Crocodile sat silently, his mood darkening with every passing second. The three pirates who had just entered—Dorian, Izumi, and Scarlett—hadn't even glanced in his direction. He felt outright insulted by their indifference.

If this had been the old Crocodile, he would have lashed out by now, but he wasn't the same man who had once been blinded by arrogance. Instead, he quietly seethed, recognizing the raw power that radiated from them.

When Scarlett had unleashed her Haki, the residual pressure alone was enough to make him reevaluate his place in the room. These newcomers were on a different level. For now.

Sengoku, seated at the head of the table, was at his breaking point. His thoughts churned in frustration, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. For months, he had wondered why the World Government had remained so passive, even helping bolster Marine forces with resources and aid.

Now, the truth was unraveling before him. These three relics of a forgotten age had been dug up from God knows where, and suddenly the Marines felt severely outmatched.

Sengoku's grip tightened. Currently, in his prime, perhaps, he could hold his own against monsters like Dorian and Izumi, especially with the powerful forces like Bogard stationed at Marineford—even with two Admirals absent.

But Scarlett Lachlan, the Bloodsteel… she was in a league all her own. Sengoku knew she could tear through Marine Headquarters, Admirals or not. Even with his experience, he didn't fancy his chances against her.

He turned to Vice Admiral Tsuru, his eyes silently pleading for guidance. She shook her head, her expression stoic but tense. There was no need for words. One wrong move here, one spark to ignite the powder keg, and it would be their end.

The Marines had only recently gained momentum, taking down Linlin and Shiki, regaining some semblance of control over the chaotic seas. That progress would be obliterated if they engaged these three now.

Before Sengoku could dwell on his options, Dorian let out a lazy sigh and threw himself into one of the vacant chairs. His boots hit the table, his legs crossed arrogantly, one of them almost brushing Sengoku's face. The gesture was deliberate, dripping with disrespect.

"So," Dorian drawled, eyes half-lidded as if the entire room bored him, "are we going to get down to business, or do we plan to just keep staring at each other?"

The Marines in the room bristled at the insult, hands twitching towards their weapons. It was a scene pulled tight like a bowstring, ready to snap. The tension was unbearable. But still, they held back, knowing that orders from the World Government had brought these pirates here. No matter how much their pride screamed at them to act, they were bound by duty.

The CP0 agent, sensing that things could spiral out of control at any moment, stepped forward quickly. He placed a thick file in front of Sengoku, whose hands remained clasped together in front of him. His jaw tightened, the sound of his teeth grinding audibly through the quiet room. His irritation was palpable.

"All three of these individuals have been officially appointed as Shichibukai," the CP0 agent announced, his tone unnervingly calm given the stakes. He placed another folder on the table, one meant to explain the situation in more detail.

"Gecko Moria will retain his position until his allegiance can be reasserted. These are the formal orders for their appointments."

Sengoku's eyes burned with frustration as he glared at the file in front of him. His voice cut through the room, low and seething with disbelief.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

The CP0 agent, as though programmed to ignore any sign of dissent, continued speaking, unfazed by Sengoku's obvious displeasure.

"These are their original bounties," he said, retrieving three aged bounty posters from the folder and placing them on the table for all to see. "From today forward, their bounties will be frozen under their new status."

Sengoku's gaze dropped to the bounty posters, and a dark frown etched itself onto his face. These were the bounty from two decades ago, relics of a time when these pirates had ruled the New World. But even as old as they were, these numbers were staggering. If updated to reflect the current power dynamics, these bounties would surely be even higher.

The first poster showed Dorian LaCasse, the Drowned King, smirking back at him from the past.

---

[WANTED]

['DROWNED KING' DORIAN LACASSE]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[3,710,000,000 BERRY]

---

Sengoku's frown deepened. That bounty was from before the fall of Xebec, when LaCasse was still ravaging the seas. Now, after two decades of silence, he was back—and undoubtedly more dangerous than ever.

The second poster bore the fierce gaze of Izumi Arakaki, the Crimson Tempest, her golden eyes piercing through the worn paper.

---

[WANTED]

['CRIMSON DRAGON' IZUMI ARAKAKI]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[3,695,800,000 BERRY]

---

Sengoku's mind flashed back to stories of her unrivaled swordsmanship and brutal raids. This woman had killed a Marine Admiral in single combat without breaking a sweat. And now she was seated in the same room, casually offering alliances and threats to the Warlords.

Finally, Sengoku's eyes landed on the last poster, his grip tightening involuntarily. Scarlett Lachlan. The Bloodsteel. Her raven black hair framed a face unmarred by countless battles, her sharp, captivating eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.

---

[WANTED]

['BLOODSTEEL' SCARLETT LACHLAN]

[DEAD OR ALIVE]

[3,999,900,000 BERRY]

---

Just a hair's breadth from 4 billion. Sengoku swallowed hard. Scarlett had once clashed with Rocks D. Xebec himself and survived—a feat only a handful of people could claim. She had also fought Garp to a standstill, an event that had gone down in Marine legend.

But more than anything, it was the sheer rage that seemed to emanate from her, barely contained beneath the surface, that unsettled him most. Even after all these years, her thirst for vengeance against Garp had not dulled. It had only sharpened.

Sengoku took a deep breath, his mind racing. If these three were now officially under the World Government's protection as Shichibukai, the balance of power on the seas had just shifted dramatically—and not in their favor. The Marine's grip on order was slipping. Even with their recent victories against Linlin and Shiki, the tides were turning against them once again.

Scarlett's gaze hadn't wavered from Bogard, her lips curled into a slow, sinister grin. Dorian looked as though he couldn't care less, but his presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, his eyes filled with boredom masking something far darker.

Izumi glanced at Mihawk again, but this time, her smile was sharper, as though planning her next move.

The CP0 agent, oblivious to the deadly tension simmering in the room, continued on as though this were just another routine meeting.

"From this day forward," he said, "these bounties are frozen, and these individuals will serve under the World Government as Warlords of the Sea."

Sengoku's fingers clenched into fists under the table. His mind was a storm of thoughts and possibilities. What is the World Government thinking? This was no game. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

Scarlett's chuckle echoed through the tension-filled room as she leaned back in her chair, her prosthetic hand tapping lightly on the armrest. Her fiery red hair caught the dim light, casting an ominous glow across her scarred face.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she eyed Bogard with thinly veiled amusement. The air in the room was electric, and everyone seemed to brace themselves for what she would say next.

"Say, little pup," she began, her voice dripping with mockery, "I've heard rumors about Garp's new protégé. He's apparently making quite the name for himself, even in the New World." Her grin widened, her tone turning almost playful.

"What do they call him again… Ah, yes—'Heaven's Equal'. Quite the ambitious title, don't you think? Tell me, Do you believe Garp will come running if I take the kid's head?"

Scarlett's words were meant to taunt, to poke at a nerve and spark a reaction from Bogard, who stood unflinchingly under her piercing gaze. But instead of anger or fear, the veteran Marine simply gave her a cold, mocking smile.

He knew Scarlett was testing the waters, seeking to gauge their resolve, but he had faced far worse in his lifetime than mere words.

"You can try," Bogard replied, his voice steady, almost indifferent.

The room went still. Scarlett's smile faltered, her amusement replaced with a flicker of curiosity. She had expected outrage, perhaps even a flash of fear in Bogard's eyes.

After all, she wasn't just any pirate—she was Scarlett Lachlan, a woman who once stood toe-to-toe with legends. Yet here was this man, cool and composed, daring her to make a move.

"Hahahaha…. Try?" Scarlett repeated, her tone sharp as her smirk returned. "Such confidence… I wonder where it comes from. Are you placing all your bets on that little upstart, then? Garp's precious new pet?"

But Bogard didn't flinch. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, a silent challenge passed between them. Then, to her surprise, Mihawk, seated next to Scarlett, glanced over, a faint, nearly imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Scarlett noticed the subtle shift in Mihawk's demeanor, and it intrigued her. The infamous swordsman, known for his stoic nature, hardly ever reacted to anything—but now, he seemed almost amused.

"What's so funny?" Scarlett asked, her voice carrying an edge.

Mihawk's golden eyes didn't leave his glass of wine as he took a slow sip, savoring the moment before speaking.

"Chasing after that man," he said, his voice calm and measured, "is like chasing after the Reaper himself. You're only safe for as long as he hasn't noticed you."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed, her confidence wavering for the first time. She had heard the rumors, of course—stories of Garp's newest protégé, Donquixote Rosinante, carving his legend in the New World. But rumors were often exaggerated. Still, Mihawk's words carried weight. A man like him didn't speak lightly, and for him to even offer that warning...

"Is that so?" Scarlett mused, her voice softer now, her gaze sharpening as she considered Mihawk's words. She wasn't one to back down easily, but this… this was different.

"Rosinanate, huh?" she murmured under her breath. "Heaven's Equal…"

The title lingered in the air like a storm cloud. The Marines in the room exchanged uneasy glances, knowing all too well who Rosinante was. He wasn't just some rising star. He was a force of nature—one who had yet to meet his match.

Some said he was destined to reshape the world, others whispered that his strength might one day rival that of the Pirate King himself. But one thing was clear: Ross was not a man to be trifled with.

"Ambitious, indeed," Scarlett finally said, her earlier bravado dimming just a fraction. She shot Bogard a sideways glance, her sneer returning. "We'll see if he lives up to the name."

"You're welcome to find out for yourself," Bogard said, his tone carrying a hint of challenge now. "But don't say you weren't warned."

Scarlett held her gaze for a moment longer before turning away, her interest in the conversation seemingly waning. But the seed of curiosity had been planted. As dangerous as she was, even Scarlett wasn't immune to the allure of a worthy challenge.

Scarlett leaned back in her chair, a contemplative smile playing on her lips as she let her gaze drift toward Kuzan. The scar that ran across his face was a silent testament to the battle he had fought where he had almost died, a mark that told a story few in the room truly understood; stating that he had faced death would be an understatement.

I wonder if this so-called protégé will stand tall like his name suggests, or will he fall just like Garp's other protégé, who now bears the mark of defeat on his face?

Her thoughts turned darker as she considered the weight of that scar. I know who left that mark on you, she mused internally, her intrigue sharpening. The figure responsible for Kuzan's injury was shrouded in mystery—a name whispered in the shadows, a power that had evaded even the most formidable of pirates.

The tension in the room hadn't dissipated, but there was a shift—a quiet undercurrent of uncertainty that ran beneath the surface. Even Sengoku could feel it. The world was changing.

With monsters like Dorian, Izumi, and Scarlett resurfacing, and with new legends like Rosinante emerging, the seas were becoming more dangerous than ever.

As Scarlett leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with a renewed fire, it was clear she wasn't done. She was merely biding her time, waiting for her moment to strike.

And when that moment came, the world would tremble.

*****

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