Across the expansive training grounds of Marineford, the first wave of Global Marine Conscription Program recruits had assembled. Thousands of men and women from across the world stood in perfect formation, their faces a mixture of determination, hope, and reverence. They had come answering the call of justice, drawn by promises of purpose and protection that the new Marine order offered.
Vice Admiral Tsuru stood before a battalion of recruits, her weathered hands clasped behind her back as she addressed them with quiet authority. "You are no longer citizens of scattered nations," she declared, her voice carrying across the silent ranks. "You are Marines. Protectors of order. Guardians of peace. Under Fleet Admiral Sengoku's vision, you will become the foundation upon which a new world is built."
The recruits listened with rapt attention, their eyes reflecting the fervor of true believers. Among them stood former pirates who had renounced their ways, desperate civilians seeking security, and idealistic youth who saw in the Marines humanity's salvation. Each had been carefully selected, their backgrounds scrutinized, their loyalty tested before they were granted the privilege of wearing the Marine coat.
From his office overlooking the training grounds, Sengoku observed the proceedings with satisfaction. His enhanced senses allowed him to perceive not just the physical discipline being instilled in his new recruits, but the spiritual transformation taking place. The divine energy that now flowed through him resonated with their dedication, strengthening their resolve and binding them to his cause.
"The first phase proceeds smoothly," Vice Admiral Momonga reported, entering the office with a stack of recruitment reports. "Numbers exceed all projections. Applications processed across all four Blues, with acceptance rates holding steady at thirty percent. The promise of education, healthcare, and guaranteed housing has proven... remarkably effective."
"And the free medical care," added another voice from behind the paper mountain. Vice Admiral Strawberry poked his head around the reports, his distinctive mustache twitching with amusement. "You'd be surprised how many applications specifically mentioned the medical benefits. Apparently, pirate lifestyle doesn't include regular maintenance."
Sengoku nodded, turning from the window. His golden eyes held a satisfied gleam as he reviewed the reports. "The people hunger for security, Momonga. They have witnessed what chaos brings, the devastation of piracy, the weakness of corrupt governments, the suffering of the innocent. We offer them something better. Something pure."
"Also, something with comprehensive medical coverage," Strawberry muttered, earning a sharp look from Momonga.
On the training grounds below, other veteran officers conducted their own indoctrination sessions. Vice Admiral Onigumo addressed a group about the absolute nature of justice, though his session was briefly interrupted when one recruit asked if his spider-like hair arrangement required special shampoo. Meanwhile, Vice Admiral Dalmatian's lesson on unwavering loyalty was momentarily derailed when a recruit pointed out that his spotted appearance made him look "like a really serious puppy, sir, but in a good way!"
Despite these minor interruptions, the training continued with remarkable efficiency. The recruits' dedication was palpable, their transformation from ordinary citizens into instruments of justice proceeding exactly as Sengoku had envisioned.
"Remember," Tsuru continued to her battalion, having successfully weathered a sneezing recruit's latest explosive nasal eruption, "doubt is the enemy of justice. When you face the chaos of this world, pirates who would burn cities for treasure, revolutionaries who would topple order for their selfish ideals, you must not hesitate. The Fleet Admiral's wisdom guides us all. His strength protects us all. His justice defines us all."
The recruits responded in unison, their voices thundering across Marineford: "JUSTICE! ORDER! VICTORY!"
The sound reached Sengoku in his office, and he felt the divine energy within him pulse with approval. These were not merely soldiers being trained, they were disciples being consecrated. Each voice raised in dedication strengthened the spiritual foundation of his new world order.
Across the world, similar scenes played out in newly established Marine training centers. On islands that had once cowered under pirate flags, Marine recruiters found eager volunteers. In nations that had suffered under corrupt leadership, the promise of Marine protection drew crowds. The global network of conscription was not merely building an army, it was creating a faith.
Reports flooded in from around the world, each telling the same story. In the East Blue, former Arlong Park was being converted into a training facility, its symbolism not lost on the local population. In the Grand Line, islands that had once paid tribute to Yonko now flew Marine flags with pride. Even in the New World, whispers spoke of secret recruitment drives gaining momentum.
"Public opinion remains overwhelmingly positive," Momonga continued his briefing. "The World Government's propaganda division reports approval ratings at historic highs. Citizens are beginning to view Marines not as their personal protectors."
"There's also been an unexpected side effect," Strawberry added, consulting his own notes. "Marine-themed restaurants are opening across the Grand Line. 'Sengoku's Sanctuary Sushi,' 'The Absolute Justice Cafe,' and, my personal favorite, 'Buddha's Bowls: Enlightenment in Every Bite.' The marketing department is having a field day."
Sengoku's expression remained impassive, but internally he felt deep satisfaction. This was how true change occurred, not through force alone, but through the willing transformation of hearts and minds. By positioning the Marines as liberators rather than conquerors, he had tapped into humanity's deepest desires for safety and meaning.
The cultural shift was remarkable. Children played "Marines and Pirates" in the streets, with everyone wanting to be the Marine. Street vendors sold toy Marine coats and plastic swords. Even the traditional sea shanties were being rewritten with pro-Marine lyrics, though some of the rhymes were admittedly terrible.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," Sengoku commanded.
A young Marine lieutenant stepped inside, saluting crisply. "Fleet Admiral, sir! Urgent report from the Sabaody recruitment center. There's been an... unusual development."
Sengoku raised an eyebrow. "Explain."
"Sir, intelligence from the World Government have taken notice someone. He is said to be a wandering swordsman, but..." The lieutenant hesitated, glancing at his notes. "He's blind, sir. Completely blind. Yet the recruitment officers report that his presence is... extraordinary."
Anticiapting, Sengoku gestured for more details. "Describe him."
"Tall, roughly middle-aged, carries a sword cane. Purple clothing, wooden sandals. He speaks with quiet authority and..." The lieutenant paused, searching for words. "The officers described it as gravitational, sir. Reports suggest he may possess a Devil Fruit ability related to gravity itself."
Sengoku's immediately grasped the significance. Issho.
This was either an extraordinarily valuable recruit or a potential threat that needed careful handling.
"The officers also report something... unusual about his recent history," the lieutenant continued, consulting his notes again. "Intelligence suggests he was recently working on Soja Island as a bodyguard for a gambling house. Apparently, he incurred severe losses at the tables and was essentially working off his debt."
Strawberry snorted with amusement. "A blind gambler? That's either the height of optimism or the depths of stupidity."
"The World Government has already taken an interest," the lieutenant pressed on. "They purchased the entire gambling establishment for a substantial sum and are facilitating his recruitment through the program. Intelligence indicates they may be aware of his past as military chief of the Aoi Kingdom."
Sengoku's eyes narrowed. It suggested the World Government had their own intelligence networks operating and identifying potential assets before his own system could process them.
But why leave him to the marines? Have they concluded he is not suitable for Cipher Pol?
"And his stated motivation for joining?" Sengoku inquired.
"He claims to have witnessed the 'dark reality of the world' and seeks to serve justice, sir. The recruitment officers report his conviction appears genuine, but his power level is... concerning. They request guidance on how to proceed."
Before Sengoku could respond, the lieutenant cleared his throat. "There's another matter, sir. Related intelligence from our World Government liaisons. They've identified another candidate for the World Military Draft, a man called Aramaki. Apparently, they freed him from imprisonment specifically to recruit his services."
"Imprisoned for what?" Sengoku asked.
"The file is... sparse, sir. But his reputation and extraordinary strength caught their attention. Some kind of plant-based abilities, if the reports are accurate. Another Devil Fruit user with Admiral-level potential."
Sengoku stood silent for a long moment. The emergence of Issho and Aramaki, both deemed to be future Admiral level combatants. They are not ordinary recruits.
The World Government's sudden interest in high-level recruitment was noteworthy. Were they strengthening the Marines to support his vision, or were they preparing for something else entirely? The timing was too convenient to be coincidental.
Their presence resonated with something deep in Sengoku's consciousness. Not recognition, but a sense of destiny. Another piece moving into position on the great board of the world's future.
"The gambling debts are irrelevant," Sengoku declared. "They do not define his potential for justice. Send word to Sabaody, he is to be brought to Marineford immediately. No need for surveillance. If he truly seeks to serve justice, then he shall have that opportunity."
"And if his motives prove false?" Momonga asked.
Sengoku's golden eyes hardened. "Then he will learn why the new Marine order tolerates no deception."
"What about this Aramaki character?" Strawberry inquired.
"Monitor him as well. If the World Government believes these individuals possess Admiral-level potential, then they deserve our attention. Strength without purpose is chaos, but strength guided by justice..." Sengoku paused, considering the implications. "That is the order we need."
As the lieutenant departed to relay his orders, Sengoku returned to the window. Below, the training continued with precision.
Thousands of voices chanted in unison, their dedication absolute. The sight filled him with profound satisfaction, but also with awareness of the challenges ahead. The World Government's independent actions suggested layers of complexity he had fully anticipated.
But challenges remained. Monkey D. Luffy still lived, and with him the chaotic will that opposed everything Sengoku represented. The Revolutionary Army plotted in shadows, their anarchistic vision a cancer on ordered society. And now mysterious figures like Issho and Aramaki appeared, wild cards whose true allegiances remained unknown.
No matter. Sengoku had faced the strongest pirate in the world and emerged victorious. He had stared down a Yonko and forced their retreat. Whatever challenges awaited, his divine justice would overcome them all.
Behind him, Momonga cleared his throat respectfully. "Shall I prepare additional security for this Issho's arrival, sir?"
Sengoku smiled, the expression both benevolent and terrible in its certainty. "No, Momonga. If he comes seeking justice, then justice he shall find. And if he comes seeking something else..." The golden energy around Sengoku pulsed once, a reminder of the divine power that now flowed through his being. "Then he will discover that the age of deception has ended."
And somewhere in the distance, a blind swordsman walked steadily toward his destiny, each step measured and purposeful, probably grateful to be away from the gambling tables, drawn by the same force that was reshaping the world itself, the inexorable pull of justice.