Carl sat in silence for a long time, not even considering checking the bear.
"Forget it. What's the big deal? Isn't it just the Summit War?"
"I don't believe it. With so many strong men in the headquarters, would it really be my turn to deal with Whitebeard?"
To be fair, with his current strength, as long as he didn't go head-to-head with Whitebeard, there was no real threat to him from anyone else.
Not even a division commander like Marco.
"Never mind, let's take a look at the bear first."
Carl pushed aside these thoughts, and with a mere flick of his will, the wardrobe door in the adjacent room swung open from within.
A figure emerged—'Bear.'
"So, this is the power of the Nikyu Nikyu no Mi."
Carl glanced at 'Bear's' palms. They appeared soft and tender, an almost comical shade of pink, yet concealed within those harmless-looking pads was one of the most terrifying Devil Fruit abilities in existence.
[Spatial Transfer], [Slap Flight], [Ursus Shock], [Kuma's Pressure Cannon], [Yin Healing Bullet]—
Each technique was absurdly overpowered, resembling a bugged ability in reality.
Had Kuma not already lost most of his consciousness by then, and had he not been preoccupied with evacuating Luffy and the Straw Hats, Carl wouldn't have been able to take the opportunity to strike him down with a single blow.
A true top-tier combatant.
Carl silently manipulated 'Bear' within the confines of his office, running through a series of ability tests. It wasn't until he sensed Bright's approach that he finally returned 'Bear' to the closet.
"Report! Colonel Carl," Bright announced as he approached the desk and saluted. "The pirates have been dealt with, and besides that—warships have been spotted approaching the port of Sabaody!"
"They're here already?"
Carl raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. It hadn't been that long since his previous encounter with the bear.
Had he been so engrossed in testing the Nikyu Nikyu no Mi's abilities that he lost track of time?
"The peak mastery of a Devil Fruit is really something…"
Carl exhaled lightly before nodding. "Got it. You're dismissed."
"Yes, sir!"
At the Port
Carl's figure flickered into existence at the harbor just in time to witness a warship sailing in.
Standing on the deck was an elderly, white-haired woman, her sharp eyes scanning the area as she disembarked.
Accompanying her was a squinting, cigar-smoking Vice Admiral.
"You're Solomon Carl, aren't you?"
The old woman approached with a faint smile.
Carl responded with a respectful nod. "Chief Staff Officer Tsuru, it's an honor. The old man already briefed me about your arrival."
The squinting Vice Admiral beside her chuckled, speaking in a casual yet authoritative tone.
"Colonel Carl, a pleasure to meet you. Vice Admiral Hōshōsan, at your service."
Carl maintained a polite smile, though inwardly, he sighed.
"Squinting eyes are always dangerous. Why can't this old man be an exception?"
Carl remembered something ominous about this old man—during the Stampede incident, Vice Admiral Hōshōsan, along with Flying Squirrel and Onigumo, had been effortlessly eliminated by Douglas Bullet.
The gap between Vice Admirals and Admirals was painfully clear.
Carl stepped into the elevator alongside Tsuru and Hōshōsan, then began the long ascent.
At the Gates of Mariejois
The elite soldiers guarding the gate turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Step, step, step—
The trio came into view, but among them, Carl stood out the most.
The three swords at his waist, the unnatural blood-red glow in his right eye, and the mysterious '6' in his pupil all gave off an eerie presence.
Tsuru took the lead. "Open the gates."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Though the guards didn't recognize Carl, Tsuru's reputation as the Chief Staff Officer of the Marines was enough to command immediate compliance.
With the groaning of gears, the massive silver-white gate slowly creaked open, revealing the luxurious grandeur of Mariejois.
Carl narrowed his eyes slightly, taking in the scene.
A vast, elegant road stretched ahead, leading toward an immense golden palace in the distance. Lush forests lined the sides, streams trickled gently, and flowers bloomed vibrantly.
"Damn, no wonder the Celestial Dragons live here… Even I might enjoy a place like this."
A soldier bent forward and handed them several long metallic rods.
"Please use these."
"No need," Tsuru declined indifferently, walking toward the side path instead.
Hōshōsan leaned slightly toward Carl, explaining in a low voice, "That stone pathway in the center is an automatic sidewalk. If you insert the rod, it moves on its own… but it's not meant for people like us."
Carl nodded slightly, fully aware of what lay beneath that so-called 'moving walk.'
Mariejois was the Celestial Dragons' paradise—but at the cost of countless enslaved lives.
As they proceeded deeper into the Holy Land, they reached a golden bridge.
Carl's eyes flickered toward the far-right side.
A Celestial Dragon rode atop a massive slave, repeatedly striking the poor soul with his bejewelled cane, all the while muttering nonsense.
"Idiot! Move faster!"
"You filthy slave!"
The guards surrounding them laughed sycophantically.
"Haha, a mere pirate… It's a great honor for you to be ridden by Saint Rosward!"
The slave's body was riddled with scars and shackles. His eyes were hollow, void of hope, reduced to nothing more than a breathing corpse.
Carl, with his Kenbunshoku Haki, could tell—this man was barely alive.
"Carl, what are you looking at? Keep up."
Tsuru's calm yet firm voice pulled him back.
"Oh, coming," Carl replied casually, turning his gaze away.
Yet, unseen by all, the '6' in his eye shifted—into a '1.'
[Hell Road]—activated silently.
Suddenly—
The huge slave's body seized up.
He collapsed.
The Celestial Dragon atop him, Saint Rosward, was sent tumbling down.
"Saint Rosward!"
His guards rushed forward in panic.
"Get a doctor! Lord Rosward has fallen!"
One furious guard began kicking the slave's corpse.
"Damn you! How dare you make Saint Rosward fall?!"
"Annoying!" Rosward growled, pulling out a gold-plated pistol from within his cane—
BANG!
He shot the guard dead on the spot.
The surrounding Marines trembled but remained silent.
Tsuru, meanwhile, gave Carl a sidelong glance.
"This is Mariejois. Don't go too far."
Carl smirked. "Granny Tsuru, what are you talking about? I don't understand."
Tsuru sighed, shaking her head as she resumed walking.
Carl shrugged, stepping forward.
At the very least, all he did was eliminate a pirate.
Inside the Banquet Hall
A row of Marine officers stood at attention, beads of cold sweat forming on their foreheads.
At the center of the room sat several massive figures.
The Shichibukai.
The door creaked open.
Tsuru led Carl and Hōshōsan inside.
The assembled Warlords of the Sea turned their attention toward them.
Carl, unfazed, strolled in and plopped down beside a particular figure.
A man leaned back against his chair, boots propped on the table.
Carl did the same.
Dracule Mihawk.
Mihawk smirked. "Long time no see."
Carl scowled. "I'd rather not see you at all."
After all, this bastard was the reason his strength got exposed.
Elsewhere, a deep, mocking laugh rang out—
"Fufufu… Solomon Carl, we finally meet."
Donquixote Doflamingo.
And sitting beside him—
Blackbeard, Marshall D. Teach.
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