Upon seeing Gern land at Marineford, Garp was the first to break the silence.

He strode forward, his booming laughter echoing through the entire port: “Hahahaha! Kid, well done!

You’re the first newcomer to make Whitebeard use Haki Infusion!”

Gern was momentarily stunned, then recognized Garp from the slightly youthful face of the burly young man! (He recognized him from the scar near his eye).

After recognizing Garp, Gern instinctively looked at Zephyr behind Garp; Zephyr’s expression remained serious, showing no emotion.

“Vice Admiral Garp, you flatter me,” Gern said calmly, bowing slightly. “I merely did what I was supposed to do.”

“Hahahaha! Too humble!” Garp clapped Gern on the shoulder so hard it almost made the injured man lose his footing.

“Come on, come on, let’s go to the medical department for a thorough check-up first, then we can talk more about that battle!”

Just then, Zephyr finally spoke: “Garp, stop messing around.”

“Zephyr~”

“He needs to report to me first.” His gaze turned to Gern, his voice low and firm.

“Warrant Officer Gern, one hour from now.

My office. I will be waiting for you there.”

Gern straightened his back and gave a crisp military salute: “Yes, Vice Admiral Zephyr.”

Garp pouted: “Hey, hey, Zephyr, don’t be so rigid. That kid just went through a tough battle not long ago…”

“Precisely why discipline is even more necessary.” Zephyr interrupted Garp, then nodded to Gern. “Go, and don’t be late.”

Watching Gern’s retreating figure as he left with the medical personnel, Garp shook his head.

“You, you’re always so strict.”

Zephyr rubbed his brow: “Garp, you know what his Nature Type Tremor-Tremor Fruit means.”

Garp’s expression was uncharacteristically serious for a moment: “It’s just a Nature Type…”

“That’s why it’s terrifying!”

The two fell silent for a moment, the sea breeze whipping Zephyr’s cloak, making it flap loudly.

“So?” Garp suddenly reverted to his carefree self, vigorously bumping Zephyr’s shoulder.

“Are you going to give Gern to me?”

“Don’t even think about it! Go look after your own son.” Zephyr snorted and turned to walk towards the Marineford building.

“Besides, I heard you recently took in Kuzan. It seems you’re already preparing to mentor him.”

Garp watched Zephyr’s retreating back and suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahahaha! I knew it! You actually really like that kid, don’t you?”

Zephyr didn’t turn back, merely waved his hand: “See you at the Marshal’s office, Garp.”

“Got it, got it!” Garp clasped his hands behind his head, leisurely following along.

“But before that, I need to drop by Sengoku’s office and grab some things! That guy must be hiding some good stuff again!”

The Marines at the port watched the two Vice Admirals depart, then looked in the direction Gern had disappeared, and whispers began to rise again.

“Hey, did you see that? Vice Admiral Zephyr actually came to personally greet that newcomer…”

“I heard he fought Whitebeard one-on-one and came back alive!”

“Marineford is going to be lively again…”

........

The automatic doors of the Marineford Medical Room closed behind him.

Gern stood in the hallway, subconsciously touching his chest where three ribs should have been broken.

“Truly incredible…”

Whitebeard’s final Haki Infusion, though restrained, still shattered many of his ribs.

Under the medical conditions of the West Blue Branch, such an injury would have required at least four months of bed rest.

Yet now, the skin beneath the bandage had healed as if new, with only a few faint pink scars as a reminder of the thrilling confrontation.

“Are the Marineford medical team using magic? No wonder when I watched the anime before, it felt like Marines rarely died…”

Gern murmured to himself, gently pressing his abdomen with his fingers.

There was no pain, only the slight itch of new flesh growing.

He recalled his days as a recruit in the West Blue, the rudimentary field hospitals, the painful groans of the wounded, and the perpetually insufficient medicine.

Here, severe injuries seemed to be only a temporary inconvenience.

Outside the hallway window, the shouts of new recruits drilling echoed from the Marineford plaza.

They were uniform and full of vigor.

Gern stopped, looking through the glass at the Marines below, dressed in their standard uniforms.

The sunlight shone on their young faces, each with a determined expression.

“Even new recruits are the most elite force of the Marine.” Gern withdrew his gaze and continued towards the Marineford building.

Zephyr had given him an hour, but he decided to arrive early.

After all, punctuality was the most basic discipline at Marineford.

Soon, after passing through three normal security checks, Gern arrived at the Vice Admiral office area.

The corridor was so quiet he could hear his own footsteps, and the doors of the rooms on both sides bore the names of various Marineford Vice Admirals.

At the end, in front of a black door, Gern stopped.

The nameplate simply read: Zephyr - Marineford Vice Admiral Zephyr.

Gern raised his hand to knock, but found the door ajar.

Through the gap, he could see that the room was empty.

Zephyr clearly hadn’t returned yet.

“Reporting, Warrant Officer Gern here to report.”

After a soft announcement, Gern pushed the door open and entered.

The office was stark to the point of austerity: a solid wood desk, two visitor chairs, and a filing cabinet crammed with documents.

There were no decorations, only a framed photo of Zephyr and his then-unmarried wife on the desk, and a calligraphy scroll hanging on the wall.

The four bold characters, “Justice That Does Not Kill,” were powerful and vigorous, the ink almost seeming to penetrate the paper.

“Does Not Kill…” Gern stood before the calligraphy, gazing at it for a long time.

Gern, who had not yet spent money to enter logistics during his new recruit period in the West Blue, knew very well that “not killing” was seen as a sign of weakness.

Pirates would only submit to greater violence; mercy often led to greater disaster.

He had seen too many Marines die because of a soft heart.

“But this is precisely the ‘Black Arm’ Zephyr’s justice…”

He murmured softly, his fingers unconsciously tracing the hilt of his sword.

In his year in the West Blue, Gern’s reputation was built upon bones, every fallen pirate a warning to those who followed.

And now, these four characters before him seemed to negate all his past actions…

“That is my justice.” A low voice suddenly came from behind him.

Gern spun around sharply, seeing Zephyr standing at the doorway at some unknown point, his eyes calm and showing no emotion.

“Vice Admiral Zephyr!” Gern immediately stood at attention and saluted.

Zephyr strode into the office, his cloak swaying slightly behind him.

“Gern, you once said, ‘Justice that is late is not worthy of being called justice at all.’”

Zephyr walked to the desk but did not sit down, instead looking directly into Gern’s eyes. “Then, for you to say such a thing…

What kind of justice is yours?”