“Cough, cough! My apologies, it’s just that your gaze was a bit…”
Gern cleared his throat, then pulled the conversation back on track, continuing, “I didn’t expect Vice Admiral Garp to tell you even that.”
“It wasn’t just him.” Dragoon sighed, his voice low. “The entire headquarters is discussing you now.
After all, to dare challenge Whitebeard head-on, and even force him to use Haki Infusion… you have quite the nerve.”
Gern chuckled softly: “Courage doesn’t equate to strength, otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now; I’d be at the bottom of the sea.”
Dragoon didn’t respond, only falling silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “Do you really believe… that justice will be late?”
Gern narrowed his eyes.
That question was very profound.
At this point, Dragoon should already be starting to question the World Government.
Especially after the God Valley incident, he had personally witnessed the Celestial Dragons’ brutality, and his belief in so-called “justice” had probably long been shaken.
“I asked my father about your file; you also participated in that battle at God Valley.
The World Nobles’ killing game…”
“Whether justice will be late, I don’t know.” Gern suddenly interrupted Dragoon, slowly saying, “But I do know that if even those who execute justice begin to doubt themselves, then so-called justice truly becomes mere empty talk.”
Hearing Gern’s reply, Dragoon’s pupils constricted slightly.
Then, staring at him, he calmly retorted, “The Marine’s existence is inherently for maintaining order.
But if order itself is distorted… then what is so-called justice worth?”
The air seemed to solidify at that moment.
Dragoon’s gaze deepened, and he stared intently at Gern, seemingly wanting to understand the meaning behind his words.
But Gern wasn’t foolish; although he didn’t have Observation Haki at the moment, as a Nature Type Tremor-Tremor Fruit user, he could clearly sense some subtle vibrations.
Just like Vice Admiral Zephyr, who was standing by the wall under the left window, eavesdropping at that very moment!!
So, Gern pretended to ponder for a long time before slowly speaking: “Then what about your justice?”
“What you consider distorted, in my view, the very existence of the Marine, and whether it is just, depends on whom it serves and how it acts, rather than on abstract order itself.
Completely binding the Marine to order ignores the complexity of its functions.
Your true critique should be directed at the power structure that abuses the Marine (implying the World Government), rather than negating the core value of justice.”
“Dragoon, your father is ‘Marine Hero’ Vice Admiral Garp…
The realization of our justice is a dynamic process; we cannot negate all its value because order is imperfect.”
Facing Gern’s words, Dragoon didn’t press further, only giving him a deep look before turning and walking towards the door.
And in a voice only Gern could hear, he softly said, “I have no justice.”
After the door closed, the office returned to silence.
.......
Soon after the office door closed, the left window was pushed open from the outside.
Zephyr agilely flipped into the room, his short purple hair unmoving in the sea breeze, and his eyes behind his sunglasses looked directly at Gern.
“Eavesdropping isn’t a good habit, Vice Admiral Zephyr.” Gern said without lifting his head, his fingers lightly tapping the desk, as he watched Zephyr climb through the window.
“Haha!” Zephyr snorted a laugh and strode to his desk.
“Testing the resolve of subordinates is a privilege of a superior.” He took off his sunglasses, his sharp gaze scrutinizing Gern.
“Your answer… is satisfactory.”
Watching Zephyr’s upturned lips, Gern shrugged, feigning helplessness: “Just speaking the truth, that’s all.”
“It’s precisely because it’s the truth that it’s rare.” Zephyr tossed a document in front of Gern, which was also something he had left the office to handle.
The document contained information on some recently troublesome pirates, similar to the Supernovas of later generations, though that term didn’t exist yet; they were all referred to as “troublesome” pirates.
“Most people, when faced with a question like Dragoon’s, either blindly agree or vehemently refute.
But Gern, you can see the essence of the problem—that’s very good.
The Fleet Admiral even said you were born in the West Blue, and your concept of justice was very uncertain, even wanting you to study at the Navy School.
Heh heh, in my opinion, you are truly righteous and pure!
Origin doesn’t matter; I, Zephyr, am exceptionally accurate at judging people.
You! Gern Reginald Sigma, your ideological awareness of justice is exceptionally high!”
Gern ignored Zephyr’s self-congratulatory remarks and instead opened the document to read it, then looked up at Zephyr.
“So, Lieutenant Dragoon…”
“Just a lost lamb, that’s all.” Zephyr interrupted him, a rare hint of regret in his voice.
“Sigh, Garp, that guy, was so busy chasing Roger that he couldn’t even teach his own son well.”
Thinking of this, he walked over to Gern and heavily patted his shoulder, “But you are different.”
The relief shown by this “Black Arm” Vice Admiral at this moment was completely unlike his usual sternness.
“After work this afternoon, Training Ground One.” Zephyr withdrew his hand and put his sunglasses back on.
“It’s time to let you see what true power is.”
Gern closed the document, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned: “Haki training?”
“Not training.” Zephyr’s voice was deep and powerful.
“It’s to make you understand that no matter how strong a Fruit is, it’s merely an external thing.
A true strong person…” He pointed to his chest, “Strength comes from here.”
“So it’s… getting beaten up?”
“What kind of talk is that!? I’m making you comprehend power! What do you mean ‘getting beaten up’? Garp’s kind is called getting beaten up!”
The midday sun streamed through the window, casting mottled shadows on Zephyr’s cloak.
Gern gazed at this future Admiral, suddenly realizing that he was standing at a crucial turning point.
Damn it, if I have to get beaten up, then so be it!
“I’ll be there on time.” Gern stood up and solemnly saluted.
Zephyr nodded, turned, and walked towards the door.
Just as he pushed the door open, he paused: “Oh, and Gern.”
“Hmm? Is there anything else about getting beaten up you need to tell me?”
“That sword of yours…” Zephyr’s voice suddenly deepened, “Eight Desolations, right? You’re not allowed to bring it this afternoon.”
The door closed, leaving Gern standing alone in the center of the office.
He reached back and touched the black blade, feeling a faint tremor from the sword, as if it were responding to something.
“Great, I can’t even bring my only weapon cheat!”