Chapter 51: Just a Little Pain…

Marine Headquarters, Marineford.

Admiral’s Office.

Following the Ohara Massacre, a series of personnel changes among the Marine high command finally established a stable structure of one Admiral and three Admirals.

Former Vice Admiral Borsalino was promoted to Admiral for rescuing the World Noble Elaine, with the codename: Kizaru.

Former Vice Admiral Sakazuki was promoted to Admiral for carrying out the Ohara Massacre, with the codename: Akainu.

Former Vice Admiral Kuzan was promoted to Admiral for carrying out the Ohara Massacre, with the codename: Aokiji.

With the three Admirals in place, this should have been a cause for celebration, but Admiral Sengoku, upon receiving a call, wore a look of deep confusion.

“What are they doing in the Solbe Kingdom?”

Regardless, dangerous elements like the Morning Star Pirates must be closely monitored; after brief thought, Sengoku replied.

“Remain calm. Just observe the Morning Star Pirates’ movements—do not provoke them.”

In the Age of Great Pirates, the Marines could not devote all their attention to the Morning Star Pirates, who had only three crew members; far larger crews like Whitebeard’s were the true focus.

Besides, the Four Seas were Marine territory.

Barzab Seven, as a former member of Roger’s crew, surely understood this—that’s why all the Great Pirates lingered in the second half of the Grand Line.

Boom~

The office door was suddenly kicked open, startling Sengoku mid-thought, especially when he saw the intruder casually rummaging for snacks—Sengoku’s anger boiled over.

“Damn Garp!!!”

Garp glanced at his old comrade: “Who pissed you off?”

Having served together for years, Garp knew his old friend’s habits intimately; normally, Sengoku would roar: “Garp, save me some!”

This abnormal behavior meant something had truly enraged him.

“Barzab Seven went to the Solbe Kingdom.”

“The South Blue?” Garp grinned. “I’ll head there and meet Roger’s brat.”

Sengoku hesitated, then nodded. Though Garp had countless flaws, his sense of justice remained unshakable.

“Don’t forget to take your annual leave this year.”

Sengoku had deduced Garp had a grandson through observation: since last year, Garp had periodically bought piles of children’s toys and shipped them back to his hometown, Windmill Village.

He never mentioned it because Garp’s son, Dragon, had once been a Marine—but now led the Revolutionary Army.

“When do you leave?”

Before the words were out, Garp had already gathered a heap of snacks: “I’m leaving now. My iron fist is starving for action.”

“I won’t let Roger’s brat turn this sea upside down. He must be locked away in Impel Down as soon as possible.”

After Roger’s death, Garp endured a hollow, aimless period—until Barzab Seven became his new target, the next man to chase after Roger.

…

Solbe Kingdom, Eastern Sea.

Emperor of the East Sea.

Seven sat at the bow, pondering how to resolve Solbe Kingdom’s current crisis.

Had it not been for inviting Bear and Jin Ni aboard, he wouldn’t have bothered.

But there was no choice—each crew member was a living, autonomous human being.

Seven wasn’t a human succubus who could stand there and make crew members kneel, begging:

“Please, let me join you! Without you, I can’t survive!”

Overthrowing King Bekoli was easy; the hard part was what came after.

Seven’s current plan: storm the palace, physically eliminate the ruling class—including King Bekoli—and install the former king, Baudog, as ruler.

During Baudog’s reign: Solbe Kingdom enjoyed rich spiritual life but suffered extreme poverty.

During Bekoli’s reign: northern nobles lived in luxury; southern peasants faced brutal oppression and constant threat of death.

Poverty was better than death.

“Ding, your listed item: Bear-Bear Fruit has been purchased by a Valoran user. You’ve earned 54,000 points. Current balance: 54,070.”

Seven sucked in a sharp breath.

“Valoran… another rich guy on another platform.”

【Compared to these rich bastards, I’m dirt-poor—I’m embarrassing myself as a transmigrator.】

With sufficient points to buy the Lunaria bloodline, Seven immediately conceived a reason to invite Bear and Jin Ni aboard.

“Come here, Brother Bear.”

“You’re a descendant of the nearly extinct Bakania tribe; I’m a descendant of the soon-to-be-extinct Lunaria tribe. Let’s overthrow the World Government together.”

He flashed instantly to the captain’s cabin and opened the direct-sale interface.

【Lunaria Bloodline: 50,000 points. Your body will emit fire. When the flames burn, your defense increases by 100%. When they extinguish, your speed increases by 100%. You gain the ability to generate and control fire…】

Heart pounding, hands trembling.

After the Glutton, Natural Strength, and Steel Balloon, the Lunaria bloodline would make Seven a being with no flaws whatsoever.

Regeneration, physical stats, and bloodline talent—all pushed to peak configuration.

Most importantly, extreme environmental adaptability—even if he fell into the deep sea, he wouldn’t drown.

The Lunaria’s innate fire generation and control was like eating a Mera Mera no Mi on top of a Gura Gura no Mi.

“Purchase Lunaria Bloodline.”

“Ding, purchase successful. Bloodline transformation commencing. Estimated duration: 24 hours. Friendly reminder: bloodline transformation will be accompanied by immense pain…”

“Countdown: 3… 2…”

Seven muttered dismissively.

“Pain? Pfft—AHHHH!!!”

A searing agony slammed into him; Seven’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed unconscious. From his body as the epicenter, crimson-black Haki ripped across the sky, expanding 360 degrees without blind spots.

On the Emperor of the East Sea, Nico Robin, Nico Olbia, and two Ohara scholars chatting in the open-air banquet hall collapsed instantly into unconsciousness.

Fish in the surrounding seas flipped belly-up, floating from the deep to the surface.

Tenghu Yisheng leapt to his feet, gripping his blind cane, Gambler’s Line: “Mr. Mihawk, my Observation Haki can’t sense anything around me.”

“Stay put. I’ll go check.”

Mihawk immediately released the helm and leapt from the deck straight to the stern captain’s cabin.

There, Seven floated unconsciously midair, his body engulfed in roaring flames; all his clothing—except the black cloak—had burned to ash.

“Mr. Mihawk? What’s wrong with the captain?”

Mihawk frowned, unsure how to describe it, so he went downstairs to bring Tenghu Yisheng up and began explaining Seven’s condition.

“The captain is wrapped in flames, but they’re not harming his body. I suspect… they’re generated by him.”

Tenghu Yisheng tilted his head: “What color is the captain’s hair?”

Mihawk blinked in surprise: “White.”

“White?” Tenghu’s expression darkened, as if recalling something: “Does the captain have wings on his back?”

During their time together, Tenghu had sensed Seven’s height and build through Observation Haki—never detected wings.

“No wings.” Mihawk was deeply puzzled.

Flames, white hair, wings—Tenghu’s questions suggested he knew something.

After a moment’s thought, Tenghu spoke slowly.

“When I was young, I saw a similar race in ancient texts from the Cang Kingdom—but they were supposed to have a pair of wings on their backs.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, studying Seven’s back for a moment, then noticed something new.

“The flames’ trails are blurred… they look like wings made of fire.”

Hearing this, Tenghu’s brow relaxed.

“If I’m not mistaken, the captain is a Lunaria—once called a god.”

“God?”