Why are all of us who transmigrated at the same time demons?

In the office of Major General Graca, the base commander, the old ceiling fan turned listlessly, cutting through the dull afternoon light, but unable to dispel the chill that had settled in everyone's hearts.

The Den Den Mushi on the table had just fallen silent, but the Celestial Dragon Charlmark's signature, languid yet cruel roar seemed to still echo in the room.

"...The navy is nothing but watchdogs. Those slaves are my property. If anyone dares to object, I'll 'deal with' you all too..."

Three officers, ranging in rank from colonel to lieutenant colonel, stood in the office. Their faces were equally deathly pale and ashen. Just three hours earlier, at the human auction house in GR 1, they had witnessed hell.

The chaos wasn't caused by pirates, but by the suffocating despair brought about by the "legality" of the World Nobles. A young major recognized the woman on stage with the explosive collar and vacant eyes—his wife who had been missing for six months. Another lieutenant from the Longarm Tribe saw his children, who were being displayed as "rare twin commodities."

Officers who tried to reason with the Celestial Dragons, or even attempted to buy their freedom with their meager salaries, were mercilessly shot dead by the Celestial Dragons' guards, their bodies dragged away like trash. Charlmark Saint didn't even glance at them, merely complaining that "the smell of blood has spoiled my enjoyment."

“Watchdog…” Major General Gracka repeated, his voice hoarse. He was an old sea dog who had weathered countless storms, his face scarred more than the bubbles of Chambord. His fist clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, he slammed it heavily onto the official document bearing the words “Absolute Justice.”

"Roger ushered in the Great Pirate Era... but the real festering wound of this sea may lie on the Red Line!"

"Kaka!" The scarred colonel stepped forward. One of his eyes had been blinded by rioting pirates while protecting the Celestial Dragons, but now his only eye burned with an unprecedented rage. "Major Gruard and Lieutenant Hank's bodies are still in the morgue! His wife and children... are being sent to Mary Geoise with collars on! Is the justice we swore to uphold just watching our fellow countrymen's families be bought and sold like livestock?!"

"The soldiers at the base already know..." Another younger lieutenant colonel's voice trembled with suppressed anger, "They're furious, and it's about to get out of control! People in the mess hall are already singing those... 'taboo' songs!"

Just then, the office door was violently kicked open. A major, covered in blood and with his uniform disheveled, staggered in, almost collapsing to the ground. He cried out hoarsely, "Sir! They...they won't even let us collect Lieutenant Hank and Major Gruud's bodies! The Celestial Dragons' guards said...that they were 'trash,' already been fed to the beasts in the slave enclosure! My brothers and I tried to take them back, and more than thirty of us were killed or wounded. The bodies, along with the living...were thrown into the sea to feed the fish!"

Deathly silence.

Major General Graca slowly stood up and walked to the window, looking inside the base. On the parade ground, more and more soldiers and officers spontaneously gathered. They didn't make a sound, but stood silently, their eyes all fixed on the window of the commander's office. Those eyes were filled with bloodshot eyes, tears, and a kind of insubordinate madness about to erupt.

He abruptly pulled the curtains shut, plunging the room into shadow. Only the blades of the ceiling fan continued to cut through the dim light, like the slow turning of the gears of fate.

“Notify all officers and soldiers,” Graca’s voice was deep and resolute, as if every word carried the weight of steel, “to assemble in the square immediately.”

A moment later, the base's loudspeaker suddenly blared, accompanied by a piercing static, and a voice struggling to remain calm yet unable to conceal its indignation echoed throughout the Sabaody Naval Base:

"Announce to all officers and soldiers! This is not a coup! I repeat, this is not a coup!"

"We are not betraying justice! We are here to cleanse the real stains that tarnish the name of justice!"

Suddenly, a distant roar came over the loudspeaker: "Lower the World Government's flag!"

Then came a chaotic shoving sound and more people echoing it.

"All units, listen up! Immediately take control of all ship entrances and exits! Block all passageways leading to the No. 1 GR and the Mary Geoise elevators!"

The announcer's voice suddenly rose, almost cracking: "Remember our stance! Heaven will punish the wicked!"

The base's alarms blared mournfully, but not in response to the pirate invasion. The cannons of the naval warships slowly turned, no longer pointing towards the open sea, but rather subtly towards the area on the island where the Celestial Dragons were located. Soldiers poured out of the camp like a tide, moving silently, blocking the streets with barricades, their faces a mixture of anger, fear, and a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve.

At the Sabaody Archipelago naval base plaza, night had fallen, and the bubble trees in the distance emitted an eerie glow. All the soldiers assembled in silence, and among the crowd, one could see wounded soldiers with bandages. Rear Admiral Graca strode onto the makeshift platform, his justice coat fluttering in the sea breeze.

Major General Graca looked at the resolute or fearful faces of his officers and soldiers and said slowly, "Gentlemen, what we are doing today may be defined as a 'rebellion' by the World Government."

His voice, metallic and hoarse, echoed throughout the square through the loudspeaker Den Den Mushi.

"Look at the faces around you! Look at those empty beds! Think about why Lieutenant Hank and Major Gruard can't be standing here right now!"

"The people are suffering terribly! Your family members must be suffering the same way, right?!"

"Soldiers fighting in the New World, their sisters are captured by human traffickers and auctioned off to pay for their ransom! Old farmers in the East Blue grow oranges, all the fruits they harvest must be handed over as 'Heavenly Gold,' while their own children cannot eat a single one! Workers in the West Blue build ships day and night, but the warships they build are used to escort the Celestial Dragons' slave ships!"

At that moment, suppressed sobs could be heard from the crowd.

"The people are out of work, starving, exhausted, and even robbed by pirates! And what are we—the navy who are supposed to protect them—doing?!"

"We are defending the privileges of the Celestial Dragons with our blood! We are pointing our guns at our comrades who are seeking justice! We even have to watch helplessly as our wives and children are put in slave collars, while we stand at attention, salute, and shout 'Have a good shopping experience!'"

Major General Graca suddenly ripped open the collar of his uniform, revealing an old, ugly scar on his neck that looked as if it had been branded with a hot iron.

"This scar! It's from when I protected the Celestial Dragons twenty years ago! They call it a 'mark of honor'! But I say—it's a disgrace! A disgrace to every one of us in the Navy!"

He suddenly pointed in the direction of GR1.

"Today! Right here at that auction house! We witnessed the death of justice! You were there when Lieutenant Hank's two daughters and Major Gruud's wife were dragged away wearing explosive collars! You were there when those children were auctioned off like livestock! You were there when the Celestial Dragons' lackeys opened fire on us when we tried to reclaim our comrades' bodies!"

"The palaces of Mary Geoise are filled with revelry every night, while beneath the Red Line lie only withered bones! The Celestial Dragons feast on the flesh of Sea Kings on golden platters, while our wounded soldiers are rationed even for painkillers!"

The major general's voice suddenly rose in pitch.

"Soldiers! Ask your hearts! Is this the justice we seek?!"

"Those high and mighty figures! They have long since betrayed justice! They shake hands with human traffickers, they issue Shichibukai licenses to pirates! They even intend to target innocent islands with the Buster Call!"

"It's time! Soldiers!"

Stop working for these parasites!

Let's stop pointing our guns at our comrades!

Let's stop bringing shame upon justice!

We must use the sword in our hands to cut the chains!

We will use our cannons to cleanse this filthy land of Sambovity!

The major general drew his sword and pointed it in the direction of Mary Geoise.

"It's not about overthrowing the world government!"

It's to restore the Navy to true justice!

It's so that every child can have enough to eat!

It's so that every mother will no longer have to cry!

Soldiers! Follow me!

Let our roar echo throughout Mary Geoise!

Let those high and mighty "gods" hear this—

Anger from humankind!

Today, we are justice!

The entire base erupted in a tsunami-like roar. The warships simultaneously sounded their horns, their turrets began to spin, and soldiers frantically tore at the World Government emblems on their uniforms.

Major General Graca suddenly raised his voice, as if to unleash decades of pent-up resentment, “We will let those high and mighty ‘gods’ know that even a watchdog, when pushed to the limit, will bite! Let the cannon fire of the Sabaody Archipelago be the death knell tolling on the windows of their magnificent palaces!”

"Operation codename—" Major General Gracka's gaze swept across the room as he uttered the name, a name imbued with dark humor and desperate resistance:

Happy Bubble Festival!

The flames of chaos, rebellion, and despair ignited, untimely yet inevitable, in the bubble-filled Sabaody Archipelago. Meanwhile, far away at Marineford, Fleet Admiral Sengoku's Den Den Mushi (snail phone) began ringing urgently.

Chapter 210 Pirate 40K: The Crack

Marineford, the Admiral's office, late at night.

Sengoku sat wearily at his desk piled high with documents. Outside the window, the lighthouse of Marineford swept across the night sky rhythmically, illuminating the marshal's weary face time and again. An unprecedented heaviness filled the air, even more suffocating than when facing the combined forces of the Four Emperors.

Sengoku's teacup hovered in mid-air, the tea already cold. An urgent report on the Sabaody coup lay spread out on the table, next to another, even more shocking document—an urgent extra edition from the World Economic News Agency, its front page boldly proclaiming, "Lord of the Void Throne? Im Saint's Indecent Photos Leaked!" Although the accompanying image was blurred, the iconic throne and surroundings were clearly discernible.

"These idiots..." Sengoku muttered to himself, unsure whether he was referring to the Celestial Dragons or the mutinous officers and soldiers. Staff Officer Tsuru silently pushed a stack of officers' opinions in front of him.

“Kuzan’s opinion is ‘understandable’.” Tsuru’s voice was calm and even. “Polsalino wrote ‘How terrible!’ ten times in the report, Sakazuki…” She paused, “…and burned his desk into lava.”

Sengoku smiled bitterly. The attitudes of the three admirals were already clear—Kizaru, who appeared neutral, was actually condoning it; Aokiji tacitly approved it; and Akainu's anger was less directed at the rebels and more at the act of "tainting the name of absolute justice."

The golden Den Den Mushi on the table had been silent for a long time—an unusual sign in itself. Ever since Im's "indecent photos" spread through underground channels at an incredible speed (even appearing in a Celestial Dragon's afternoon tea snack box), Mary Geoise had fallen into an eerie silence. The Five Elders' anger seemed to have been replaced by a deeper sense of embarrassment and panic.

Staff Officer He silently pushed open the door and placed a freshly brewed cup of tea in front of Sengoku.

“They’re still arguing,” she said calmly, with a hint of barely perceptible sarcasm in her tone. “The Financial God and the Environmental God insist on an immediate ‘complete cleanup,’ but the Legal God and the Agricultural God believe that a large-scale crackdown on the naval forces would further damage the World Government’s ‘credibility’ during this sensitive period when its ‘image has been damaged.’”

She paused, then added, "The God of Science and Defense has not commented; he is reportedly busy tracing the source of the leaked photos."

Sengoku snorted, his fingertips tapping the report of the mutiny. "Credibility?" he repeated the word, as if tasting something bitter.

He didn't answer, but silently tidied the documents on the table. She knew that Sengoku didn't need an answer.

The door opened again, and this time it was Garp who entered, a senbei dangling from his mouth. Unusually, he didn't laugh out loud, nor did he casually find a sofa to lie down on; instead, he leaned against the doorframe, watching his old friend.

"The lads down there are in high spirits," Karp said vaguely, breaking the silence. "Many branches... not just G-1 to G-8, have sent word. They're not asking about the situation, they're sharing... 'experiences'."

He tossed Sengoku a crumpled piece of paper with several branch numbers scribbled on it and some coded sentences—about how to "accidentally" damage the Eternal Pointer pointing to the Celestial Dragons' residence, or how to "cleverly" delay supplies to the CP department.

This was no longer just an incident in Chambord. Like a stone thrown into stagnant water, it stirred up long-suppressed, silent ripples within the vast machine of the Navy.

"Tell the Five Elders," the Marshal's voice was unusually calm, "that branches G-1 through G-8 have simultaneously reported the discovery of the Revolutionary Army's main force, and all their forces are tied down. The headquarters' elite troops are currently hunting down the Red-Haired Pirates in the New World."

“That’s enough,” he said to the crane. “It’s time to end this.”

CP0 agents discovered that all the fast-moving currents heading to Sabaody "coincidentally" changed course at the same time, and the only usable route was blocked by buoys set up for naval exercises—with signs that read "Military Restricted Area, Detour".

A bizarre scene unfolded at the Sabaody Archipelago: Admiral Kizaru, who was ordered to "suppress" the situation, was leisurely sitting outside the Bubble Cafe, drinking red tea.

"This is really troublesome~" he sighed to Sentomaru beside him, "The rebels have someone who can turn invisible, we can't find them at all!"

Sentomaru watched the rebel medic bandaging the wounded a hundred meters away and silently ate a senbei (rice cracker).

Even more strangely, all the World Government officials who tried to leave Sabaody to report to Mary Geoise were "accidentally" tripped over by their own belts and knocked unconscious, or were swept away by "suddenly out of control" slave bubbles.

Meanwhile, deep within the city of Pangaea in Mary Geoise, an unrecorded secret conversation was taking place outside the empty throne room.

"They must be dealt with! Those traitors! And those cowards in the Navy!" a Celestial Dragon roared, his bubble hood trembling slightly with excitement. "Send Sakazuki there immediately! His magma is just right..."

"Calm down, Saint Roswald." A Celestial Dragon interrupted him with a cold tone, his fingers lightly tapping his jeweled cane. "Didn't you see those... 'photographs'? Now is not the time for our internal purge. Lord Im's... 'minor situation' has already shaken many member states. If we were to conduct a large-scale purge within the Navy at this time, it would make us appear... desperate. That would be unbecoming."

"Are we just going to let them get away with this...?"

"Of course not." The God of Scientific Defense spoke slowly, his voice carrying an undeniable authority, "but the method will change."

"The navy is not a monolithic entity. We know very well what Sengoku and Garp are thinking. But they also know the cost of betrayal. Oppression requires skill, Saint Roswald. Too much rigidity leads to breakage."

"Don't forget, Lord Im's matter is the most important and urgent right now. It's just a major general leading the way. Once the most important thing is over, there will be plenty of ways to deal with them."

His gaze swept over all the Celestial Dragons present, including the Five Elders and the Knights of God.

"The matter in Sabaody Archipelago can be 'handled quietly'," he said slowly. "Give the major general who led the mutiny a title of 'honorable retirement' and make him disappear. Disperse the participating soldiers under the guise of 'relocation' and integrate them into the most dangerous frontline bases in the New World, letting them naturally wear themselves down."

"As for Sengoku... give him a stern reprimand but with a light punishment, and at the same time... increase his military budget, especially the portion on soldiers' pensions. A slap followed by a sweet treat."

"That's too easy on them!"

"This is the art of governance!" the Legal Warrior coldly retorted. "Our primary task now is to eliminate the negative impact of those photos and rebuild the majesty of 'God'! Not to push the Navy to the opposite side completely! Don't forget, Dragon's revolutionary army is waiting for us to make a mistake! The complete execution of Lord Im's orders also requires the Navy's assistance!"

The secret meeting within Pangu City ultimately reached a cold consensus: to endure for now and settle scores later.

When the news reached Marineford, Sengoku looked at the seemingly stern but actually lenient handling of the situation, and the subsequent approval of an astonishing amount of additional military funding, but his face showed no joy. He knew those high-ranking "gods" all too well. This was not leniency, but a deeper calculation and a belated cruelty.

He walked to the window and looked down at the brightly lit Naval Headquarters Plaza.

“They gave us sugar, Sengoku,” Crane whispered from the side.

“Poison wrapped in sugar.” Sengoku’s voice was low and weary. “This extra compensation will temporarily appease many people. It will also make many people forget the blood and tears on Sabaody Archipelago. They put a price tag on their anger with Baileys, and then tell us that the price is fair.”

He remained silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his tone was resolute.

"But this also gave us time... and resources."

The crane raised its head and looked at the marshal's back.

“Tell Gracka that ‘Appendicitis’ requires a long period of rest. Send him to one of Vegapunk’s old research facilities, which is now empty,” Sengoku said slowly. “You will personally keep the list of scattered soldiers. I want to make sure they are ‘depleted’ slowly.”

"What about this additional military spending?"

“We’ll take it all.” Sengoku turned around, a hawk-like glint in his eyes. “Every penny of Beli must be used to strengthen the Navy’s true power, not to clean up the Celestial Dragons’ messes.”

He picked up the final report on the Chambord mutiny on the table, pondered for a moment, and then wrote a line in the approval column:

"The execution of justice may encounter setbacks, but its direction must not be deviated from."

This line can be interpreted by anyone. It can be seen as the official characterization of a coup, or as a silent defense.

After finishing writing, he tossed the report into the document basket, as if it were just an ordinary daily document. But both he and Tsuru understood that something had completely changed. The seemingly unbreakable bond between the Navy and the Celestial Dragons had begun to show its first clear, spreading crack.

On this vast ocean, once a crack appears, it is difficult to mend it.

Chapter 211 Pirate 40K: The Green-Skinned Alabasta Chronicles

The royal palace of Albana groaned before absolute power.

Crocodile stood on the terrace, the smoke from his cigar swirling around him with a primal, violent killing intent. He looked down at the city walls, his pupils slightly contracting—the walls were crumbling like sandcastles built by children, and through the smoke and dust, countless towering green figures advanced like a moving forest, carrying an aura of annihilation.

"What is that?" His deep voice held a hint of hesitation that he himself was unaware of.

Mr. 1 emerged from the shadows, his calm assassin's voice tense: "Unknown creatures. Their numbers are incalculable. Their power...beyond comprehension. East Gate has completely fallen; they are collecting something."