Chapter 40: A Criminal Without a Bounty.

 Chapter 40: A Criminal Without a Bounty.

The room was tense, the kind of tension that made the very air feel heavy. Mary Geoise, perched high atop the Red Line, was unusually still. It was as though even the skies were holding their breath, aware of the magnitude of what was about to unfold. Inside the grand chamber, the light from crystal chandeliers reflected off the polished marble floors, casting long shadows along the towering columns that lined the room. At the center sat a large, ornate table, around which gathered the most powerful forces in the world—Marine Admirals, the Shichibukai, and the Gorosei.

One of the Gorosei, his gaze sharp and calculating, broke the silence. "A Blue Giant fruit?" His tone carried a weight of skepticism. Another Gorosei added, "There is no such fruit by that name."

The Gorosei, renowned for their extensive knowledge of Devil Fruits, immediately dismissed the idea of such a fruit. The skepticism in their voices stirred confusion among the assembled figures. Yet it was Kuzan, also known as Admiral Aokiji, who responded, his voice as cool as the ice he wielded.

"Whether or not it's called the Blue Giant fruit doesn't matter. What matters is the power we've witnessed." His gaze, lazy yet sharp, swept over the room. "Some of us have faced it firsthand."

Across the table, Mihawk's piercing yellow eyes locked onto Aokiji's, his voice carrying an air of finality. "It took effort to cut that giant down. You can freeze it, shatter it even, but only with precision can you truly strike it down. A skill I possess. Akainu and Kizaru, on the other hand, couldn't manage it."

Mihawk's words cut through the room like one of his strikes, calm and without need for exaggeration. It was the truth, as plain and sharp as his blade.

Akainu's fiery gaze burned hotter at the comment, his lips curling slightly as if ready to unleash his wrath. He leaned forward, his deep voice simmering with irritation. "The fact I didn't defeat it is because you were all in my way. Had I not been held back, I would've drowned it in magma. None of you could have survived that."

Kizaru, ever the aloof figure, leaned back in his chair, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Ah... but is that really why we're here? I think there are more pressing matters, don't you?" His voice was light, almost playful, as though he were speaking of something as mundane as the weather rather than the battle that had shaken the world.

Akainu's patience snapped. "We're discussing the man who made you scream like a fool in the middle of the war." His words were venomous, directed squarely at Kizaru. "If Kuzan hadn't stepped in, you would've disgraced yourself and this so-called justice."

Kuzan, not one for petty squabbles, raised his hand slightly, his voice still carrying that same cold indifference. "As the one who fought him the most, allow me to explain." His eyes shifted to Sengoku, who nodded for him to continue. "He has several abilities. First, his fire techniques. He can breathe flame attacks, sometimes as dragons, sometimes as random blasts. Second, shadow clones—he can replicate himself, but they aren't as strong as the original and vanish after taking damage. Third, illusions. He can trap his opponents in a mental field where he controls everything they perceive. Fourth, the Blue Giant."

He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "I don't fully understand that last one. But I know it's a defensive form. When he fought, it wasn't to attack. He was protecting Fire Fist Ace. The only reason we held him off was because he hasn't yet mastered Haki. If he ever does..."

Sengoku cut in, pushing his glasses up his nose with a heavy sigh. "Thank you, Kuzan. Speculating about what-ifs won't help us. We need to focus on the present. For now, this criminal remains without a bounty, but we will deal with him in time."

The room fell silent for a moment as the Gorosei exchanged glances. Their faces, weathered by years of power and decision-making, revealed little, but their eyes held a glint of calculation. Finally, one of them spoke, his tone measured. "There's no precedent for such a fruit, but that doesn't change the reality we face. Sengoku, you are here because you must have a plan. The world is in more turmoil than ever before. What will you do about this?"

Sengoku straightened, his voice firm and decisive. "My time leading the Marines is coming to an end. Soon, a new Fleet Admiral will be chosen. But we also need to fill the empty Admiral position with someone competent." His gaze shifted across the table. "For the role of Fleet Admiral, I nominate Kuzan."

Akainu's fist tightened, the air around him seeming to heat up as his frustration boiled over. He opened his mouth to protest, but one of the Gorosei spoke up before he could.

"We believe," said the elder, his voice as cold as ice, "that Akainu is better suited for the role. His dedication to upholding our commands, without being swayed by emotion, is what the Marines need right now."

The disagreement between the Fleet Admiral and the Gorosei hung heavy in the air, the first signs of a deeper conflict that was sure to erupt soon. The decision of who would take the mantle of Fleet Admiral was no small matter. Aokiji's calm versus Akainu's fierce justice—only one would emerge victorious. And the battlefield for this decision would be the unforgiving island of Punk Hazard.

The room fell into a thick, oppressive silence, the weight of the impending clash looming over everyone present. The lines had been drawn, and soon, the world would witness a fight that would shape its future.

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