CHAPTER 259-The Price of War

The Tension Before the Storm

A heavy, suffocating stillness gripped the war room. The high-ranking Marine officers, hardened through years of combat, suddenly felt an invisible pressure pressing against their chests.

They had long since cast aside fear of death when they joined the Navy. But now, faced with a force of this scale—a monstrous pirate alliance—they couldn't suppress a creeping sense of helplessness.

The Whitebeard Pirates alone had once brought the Navy to its knees. The Marine Headquarters had mobilized everything, laying down their lives and pride to secure a pyrrhic victory.

And yet now, a more terrifying force was rising.

Two Emperors of the Sea. Two former Warlords. And a band of Level 6 prisoners—each one a notorious monster of unmatched power.

Compared to this new pirate empire, the Whitebeard Pirates were little more than an afterthought.

If a full-scale war broke out now, the question wouldn't be whether the Marines could win. It would be whether they could even survive.

The last war with Whitebeard had already left Marineford in ruins. If they were to collide with this new empire... nothing would remain.

Not even ashes.

The massive war room fell into a stifling silence. It was as if a giant, invisible hand had wrapped itself around everyone's hearts, squeezing tighter by the second.

Vice Admirals like Dalmatian and Strawberry finally understood why Vice Admiral Tsuru had so abruptly stopped Tokikake (Chaton) from taking action.

Rear Admiral Gion—Momousagi, a candidate for Admiral—had vanished during her mission to monitor the movements of the Yonko. She disappeared in Totto Land, Big Mom's territory.

And now Totto Land had unilaterally expanded its maritime territory by 500 nautical miles.

This meant that even the G-18 Marine base, the closest outpost to Totto Land, was now within their claimed waters.

Any Marine squad dispatched in search of Gion would be seen as a direct provocation. It would be taken as an act of war.

Should they be caught, or worse—should they fall—Marine Headquarters would be dragged into a war it couldn't afford.

And once that fuse was lit, there would be no turning back.

The officers who had just moments ago been prepared to charge out in search of Gion now found themselves frozen, their resolve cracking. Even Tokikake, usually calm, wore a grim expression.

"Fleet Admiral Sengoku…"

"Tokikake, I understand you want to save her. We all do. But you must understand the situation now. If we act rashly, we risk dragging the entire Navy into a war we can't win," Sengoku said gravely. "Are you still intent on going after Gion?"

All eyes turned to Tokikake.

Frustration filled the room—no one was content to sit back. But the bitter truth was clear: there was no easy answer.

"Tch. Sengoku, I gave you too much credit," came a cold scoff from the side.

The voice belonged to Saint Isu, one of the Five Elders, watching with a dispassionate sneer.

"I thought you might have a plan to deal with Kaido and Charlotte Linlin. Turns out all you know is retreat."

He folded his arms, his words as sharp as blades.

"Of course, you could appeal to us—the Five Elders. If you satisfy our conditions, perhaps we'll let you use the full strength of the Science Division."

"Let your forces swell, put on a show of strength. Maybe then you'll have the nerve to go save your people."

"But how long would that take? Ten days? A month? A year?"

"This endless waiting—how long until it breaks not only our patience, but the spirits of every Marine under your command?"

"The great Marine Headquarters… afraid of a few pirates. What a joke!"

The words echoed like thunder in the hall. Faces paled. Even the stoic Akainu clenched his fists.

Sengoku's expression darkened. His fingers dug into the table, crushing its edge in fury.

"Isu, shut your mouth!" he snapped. "I've held my tongue long enough. Don't think we can't see through your schemes. You want us to bleed in a war so the Five Elders can tighten their grip. Don't think your petty manipulations go unnoticed."

Isu's cold smirk didn't falter.

"You're right. I won't deny it," he said openly. "But do you really have the guts to go to war? To rescue her?"

"If you do, then go ahead. Send your men to die."

"But know this—if you ignite a full-scale conflict, they won't just die. They'll be remembered as the fools who doomed Marine Headquarters."

"Unless, of course, the great strategist of the Marines has another plan hidden up his sleeve?"

Sengoku stood frozen, jaw clenched.

There was no comeback—because Isu was right.

Rescue meant war. War meant death. And death would be the easy part.

If they failed, they wouldn't just lose lives. They'd become the ones remembered for triggering a catastrophe.

Even Akainu, always eager for justice through force, was visibly shaken. The decision to act—or not—would damn them either way.

Then came the voice.

Cough cough.

"Looks like I came at the wrong time. Guess I'll head back and rest."

The doors creaked open.

A man entered casually, sake jug in hand—Luo Yu.

The atmosphere tensed instantly, but Luo Yu just glanced around at the grim faces, gave a half-hearted shrug, and turned to leave.

His leisurely attitude felt completely out of place—and somehow, that made it all the more striking.

Only Luo Yu could remain so unbothered in the face of the Yonko alliance.

Ain, who had been watching silently from the side, panicked as she saw Luo Yu turning away. She urgently gestured toward Sengoku.

It took a moment, but Sengoku finally caught on.

"Luo Yu, wait!" he called out. "Do you have a way to solve this?"

"A way?" Luo Yu paused, looking over his shoulder with a faint smile.

"What's the problem? Just pay more."

"I'll go get her. You get the money ready. That's it. What's so hard about that?"

His lazy voice echoed through the corridor.

It was the same irreverent tone they all knew—and yet it hit everyone like a bolt of lightning.

They looked at Luo Yu's calm, carefree demeanor…

And remembered the one truth that had always held:

With enough money, nothing is impossible.

He'd said "pay more" as if it were the simplest solution in the world.

But maybe it was.

Maybe he really could pull Gion out of the Yonko alliance.

Excitement rippled through the room.

Sengoku's eyes lit up, finally understanding Ain's signal.

"Luo Yu, I'll approve any budget you need. Just come back alive. Don't forget—there are plenty of people who see you as a thorn in their side."

As he said this, Sengoku glanced pointedly at Saint Isu, whose face had darkened.

One sentence from Luo Yu had turned the tide.

And at that moment, Saint Isu realized he had underestimated the power of one thing far more potent than strategy or force.

Money.