Chapter 128: The Missing Warlord

[General POV]

The Titan’s Glory dropped its heavy iron anchor into the dark waters of a lawless transit port. The small island sat just outside the direct patrol routes of Marineford. It was a dirty, loud haven for smugglers, bounty hunters, and pirates looking to rest before braving the Sabaody Archipelago. The docks smelled of cheap rum and rotting fish.

Victor stood on the main deck, adjusting the collar of his heavy, dark coat. He looked out at the crowded port, watching a few rough-looking pirates point at their galleon and whisper among themselves.

“I should be back in a day or two,” Victor said, turning to look at his crew.

Law leaned against the wooden railing, his long nodachi resting on his shoulder. “We will keep the ship secure. Do you want us to stay on board the whole time?”

“You can go ashore and stretch your legs,” Victor replied. He gave a sharp look to Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Laura and Gwen, who were already eager to explore the town. “Keep a low profile. We do not want to attract a Marine fleet to this port while I am sitting in the same room as the Fleet Admiral. If someone starts trouble with you, finish it quickly and quietly. Do not let anyone damage the ship.”

“Understood, Captain,” Gwen said, adjusting her white hood.

Victor gave them a final nod. He stepped up onto the wooden railing and pushed off. He summoned the Sky-Roc again this time in a smaller size, he climbed on its back and launched himself high into the sky. He traveled quickly across the open water, leaving the dirty pirate port behind. A Marine escort ship waited for him a few miles out, ready to ferry him directly to the center of the World Government’s military power.

The journey to Marineford was brief. As the Marine vessel approached the massive Gates of Justice, the sheer scale of the fortress came into view. Marineford stood as a colossal, crescent-shaped island entirely dedicated to war. Heavy steel cannons lined the stone walls. Thousands of highly trained soldiers marched in perfect formation across the massive plazas. Large battleships anchored in the bay, their white sails bearing the blue seagull emblem.

Victor stepped off the escort ship onto the stone docks.

A squad of Marine guards immediately surrounded him. They held their rifles tightly, their faces pale and sweating. They hated the Warlords. They viewed them as nothing more than sanctioned criminals. Victor ignored their fearful glares. He walked forward with absolute confidence, his heavy boots clicking loudly against the stone path.

The guards led him deep into the main headquarters. They walked through long, pristine hallways decorated with banners of justice and portraits of past heroes. The tension in the air grew heavier with every step.

They finally reached a set of massive, heavy wooden doors. The guards stopped and stepped aside.

Victor pushed the doors open and walked into the grand meeting room.

The room was vast and circular. Large windows lined the walls, letting in bright sunlight that reflected off the polished marble floor. In the center of the room sat a massive round table, designed to hold the most dangerous pirates in the world alongside the highest-ranking Marines.

Victor expected a crowd. Instead, the room felt incredibly empty.

Only three other men occupied the massive space.

Dracule Mihawk sat near the large windows, his legs crossed elegantly. The World’s Greatest Swordsman held a crystal glass of red wine. His wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face, but his sharp, golden hawk-eyes instantly tracked Victor as he entered the room. Mihawk did not say a word, but his gaze carried a silent, heavy weight. He was analyzing Victor, sensing the new strength and the sharper edge of Haki the younger Warlord had developed since their last encounter.

On the opposite side of the room, Bartholomew Kuma stood completely still. The towering cyborg held his worn Bible in one hand. He slowly turned a page, the soft rustle of paper echoing loudly in the quiet room. Kuma did not look up from his reading, acting as a massive, silent mountain of patience .

Jinbe sat at the large table. The Knight of the Sea had his thick blue arms crossed over his chest. He wore a traditional kimono, his face set in a deep, serious scowl. Jinbe carried the pride and the heavy burden of Fish-Man Island on his shoulders. He looked at Victor, giving a brief, polite nod of acknowledgment, which Victor returned.

Victor pulled out a heavy wooden chair and sat down at the table.

A heavy silence filled the grand room. None of the four Warlords spoke. They were all apex predators, completely comfortable in the quiet tension. The Marines standing guard near the doors looked terrified, struggling to breathe under the crushing pressure of the four men in the room.

Ten minutes passed.

The heavy wooden doors swung open again.

Fleet Admiral Sengoku walked into the room. He wore his crisp white Marine uniform, his round glasses catching the light, and a life-sized seagull perched on his hat. A white goat trotted casually by his side, chewing on a piece of scrap paper.

Sengoku looked exhausted. Deep wrinkles lined his forehead, and his jaw was clenched tight. He walked to the head of the massive round table and slammed a thick stack of documents down on the wood.

The Fleet Admiral scanned the room, his eyes darting between Victor, Mihawk, Kuma, and Jinbe.

“Only four of you,” Sengoku said, his voice dripping with frustration. He pulled out his chair and sat down heavily. “This system is falling apart.”

“You summoned us for a mandatory meeting,” Mihawk said smoothly, taking a slow sip of his wine. “We are here. Perhaps you should manage your other dogs better.”

Sengoku glared at the swordsman. He opened the top folder on his stack of documents.

“Let us address the absentees,” Sengoku announced, his voice echoing in the large room. “The balance of the Three Great Powers requires seven Warlords. We currently have a massive void in our ranks.”

Sengoku pulled out a photograph and tossed it onto the center of the table. It showed a pair of shattered pink sunglasses resting in a pile of rubble.

“Donquixote Doflamingo is entirely unaccounted for,” Sengoku stated. “Since his devastating defeat in Dressrosa, he has vanished. Our intelligence suggests he is alive, but he has abandoned his kingdom and his underworld operations. His title is currently in severe jeopardy.”

Victor leaned back in his chair. Doflamingo’s defeat was common knowledge in the underworld now, but hearing the Marines openly admit they had lost track of him proved how chaotic the seas had become. A missing Doflamingo meant the criminal underworld lacked its main broker.

Sengoku pulled out a second photograph. This one showed the foggy, dark waters of the Florian Triangle.

“Gecko Moria is missing,” the Fleet Admiral continued. He shot a brief, sharp glare at Victor. “Following his defeat at your hands about a year ago, Moria completely dropped off our radar. Marine scout ships have scoured the Florian Triangle for eight months. We have been entirely unable to locate Thriller Bark. He is effectively a ghost.”

“He was weak,” Mihawk replied calmly, meeting Sengoku’s glare without blinking. “A weak Warlord reflects poorly on the World Government.”

Sengoku tightened his grip on the edges of his folder. He did not argue the point. He pulled out a third photograph. It showed the sandy capital city of Alabasta.

“Sir Crocodile is officially classified as missing in action,” Sengoku said, his tone growing darker. “A few weeks ago, an unknown hostile entity invaded Alabasta and abducted him directly from his casino. The royal army and the citizens of the desert kingdom have since exposed his secret criminal syndicate. Crocodile is a wanted man again, assuming he is even still alive.”

Victor kept his face perfectly neutral. He knew exactly what had happened to Crocodile, having seen the aftermath firsthand, but sharing that information with the Marines offered him absolutely zero benefit. Let the World Government chase shadows.

“That leaves three empty seats,” Jinbe spoke up, his deep, rumbling voice breaking the tension. “And one missing attendee. Where is the Pirate Empress?”

Sengoku sighed, rubbing his temples to fight off a growing headache.

“Boa Hancock refused the summons,” Sengoku explained. “She contacted headquarters briefly yesterday. She claims Amazon Lily is currently dealing with a severe local emergency. She refused to provide any details and immediately cut the connection. Given the location of her island in the Calm Belt, we cannot easily send an investigation fleet to verify her claims.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. The other disappearances made sense. Doflamingo was hiding from his enemies. Moria was licking his wounds. Crocodile was taken by force.

But Boa Hancock’s absence felt like something fishy was going on.

Victor knew the Pirate Empress was notoriously arrogant. She hated the World Government and often pushed the boundaries of her immunity. However, she was fiercely protective of her people. Her Warlord title was the only thing preventing the Marines from laying a permanent siege to Amazon Lily. She would never risk losing that protection by ignoring a mandatory summons unless the threat on her island was immediate, massive, and required her full attention.

Something dangerous was happening on the Isle of Women.

“So,” Mihawk said, setting his empty wine glass on the table. “You have lost three Warlords, and a fourth is ignoring your calls. You brought us here to fix your broken system.”

“I brought you here because the seas are becoming completely unstable,” Sengoku corrected, his voice rising with authority. He leaned forward, planting his hands flat on the table. “The Golden Lion’s fleet is still hiding and no one can find where they are. Whitebeard is moving his commanders aggressively. The rookies from the East Blue and the South Blue are causing chaos.”

Sengoku looked directly at the four men sitting before him.

“We have two major items on today’s agenda,” Sengoku announced. “First, we must fill these three empty seats immediately. Second, we must address the phantom hunter operating in Paradise. We have a crisis, gentlemen, and the World Government expects you to earn your immunity today.”