The natural system started off strong, but the navy finally reached its peak!

"Now that the second phase is over, it's time to take the third step."

In the third stage, he needs to break free from Zephyr's wings!

Therefore, he completely disregarded Zephyr's ideas.

One reason is to prevent history from repeating itself and to avoid the Zephyr family being retaliated against by pirates.

Secondly, it was to force Zefa to personally sever the binding ropes...

Or to put it bluntly, he needed to end this pedal now in order to go further! With that thought, Guern downed the drink in his glass in one gulp.

“Speaking of which,” Gern suddenly changed the subject and refilled his glass, “of the legendary three monsters of the Navy, I only know you.”

Sakazuki and Borsalino...

“They are complete opposites.” Kuzan chuckled. “Sakazuki is a workaholic who is stationed at the New World G-3 base.”

"And Borsalino, needless to say, you know the Naval Science Unit, right?"

"I know, it was only established in the last few years."

“That’s right, that’s where he went! It’s practically a paradise for slacking off.” Kuzan said, a hint of jealousy even flashing in his eyes.

“But we must be at the Celestial Dragons’ beck and call at any time,” Gern added, swirling his wine glass.

"Tsk, that's really disappointing." Kuzan curled his lip and suddenly put his arm around Gern's shoulder.

"But now it's time to talk about the 'Four Monsters'! Including you, the youngest one."

“Me?” Gern raised an eyebrow.

"Otherwise what? I heard before I came that you were going to carry out an independent mission."

"An independent mission?!" A glint flashed in Gern's eyes. "Aren't I Professor Zeff's second-in-command?"

"When I returned to hand in my mission, I saw that the Marshal had signed your appointment document." Kuzan tilted his head back, downed his drink, and dropped this bombshell as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"So, from today onwards, you are a captain directly under headquarters, no longer under Professor Zephyr's adjutant."

The bottom of the glass slammed heavily onto the bar, the echo reverberating in Guern's ears.

"Did it work..." Gern murmured to himself.

It's important to know that during the era of Steelbone Sky's rule, the Navy Headquarters' promotion system was as strict as iron law. The merits for each promotion were meticulously calculated, regardless of ability or background.

Even guys like Kuzan and his two companions, whose strength has reached the level of vice admirals, only hold the rank of captain at the Navy Headquarters.

To advance in one's career, only by independently commanding missions can one build a foundation of reputation and military achievements for one's future.

In the dim light of the tavern, Gern slowly curled the corners of his mouth into a smile.

The ladder of military merit and fame had finally laid out its first step beneath his feet.

(Here's a brief mention of a future "hero" who rises from menial laborer to colonel in the next two years.)

It's worth noting that it took Gern about five years to reach the rank of captain, while the three future generals were only colonels at that time.

As for Zephyr, it took him ten years to be promoted to corporal!

........

As night deepened, the streets of Marineford were bathed in a dim, quiet light from the streetlights.

Gern walked slowly along the stone path toward his residence.

The conversation in the tavern still echoed in my mind.

Independent mission, directly under headquarters, separated from Zephyr's adjutant status... everything is proceeding according to plan.

However, as Guern turned the last street corner, he paused slightly.

On the stone steps in front of the house, a tall figure stood quietly, his short purple hair motionless in the evening breeze, and his sunglasses reflected the cold moonlight.

“Zeff…Teacher?” Gern blinked, his tone as usual. “What are you doing here so late?”

Zefa did not answer immediately, but stared at him silently, his gaze as sharp as a knife.

After a long pause, he slowly spoke: "Just got back from the tavern?"

“Yeah, I ran into Kuzan by chance.” Gern smiled and took out his keys from his pocket. “That guy still likes to steal people’s food as always.”

“Is that so?” Zephyr’s voice was low and emotionless. “Then he should have already told you.”

The sound of the key being inserted into the lock was particularly crisp on the quiet street.

Gern pushed open the door and stepped aside to make way: "Would you like to come in and sit down, Professor Zephyr?"

Zepha remained standing on the steps, the moonlight casting a long shadow that almost completely enveloped Gern.

“Gern,” Zephyr suddenly spoke, his voice heavy as if a mountain were pressing down on him, “Why?”

He still wanted to ask his disciple in person.

Guern's hand stopped on the doorknob, and he tilted his head slightly: "What, why?"

"Why did you kill them?" Zephyr's fist clenched slightly. "Those surrendered pirates, they could have been locked up in Impel Down, they could have..."

"We could have let them live?" Gern interrupted him, his tone calm to the point of being almost indifferent.

Zefa's pupils contracted slightly.

Gern turned around and looked directly into Zephyr's eyes: "Professor Zephyr, do you remember the question you asked me in your office when I first arrived at headquarters three years ago?"

"...What's the problem?"

"You asked me why I joined the Navy," Gern said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "My answer was..."

To become stronger, and also... to find the answers.

A night breeze swept by, swirling up a few fallen leaves.

"What answer?" Zephyr subconsciously repeated his answer from back then.

"My justice."

Chapter 38 Independence

"Teacher, I already told you the answer a long time ago."

The air seemed to freeze at this moment.

Zefa's memory was pulled back to three years ago, and he stared intently at Gern, trying to find the shadow of that boy from back then in his eyes.

"So, this is your answer?" Zephyr's voice was deep. "Killing?"

“No,” Gern shook his head. “I’m still looking.”

After saying that, Gern stepped forward and brushed past Zefa, standing in the moonlight with his back straight.

"Furthermore, teacher. When pirates kill civilians, don't the civilians beg for mercy?" Gern's voice was soft, but every word was like a hammer blow.

"Every pirate you let go could take the lives of ten or a hundred innocent people in the future."

Zefa remained silent.

“I don’t believe in repentance, nor do I believe in reformation.” Gern looked up at the night sky. “I only believe… that dead villains will never do evil again.”

These words were like a sharp dagger, piercing into Zephyr's long-held belief in "no killing for justice."

“You’ve changed, Gern.” After a long silence, Zephyr finally spoke, his voice tinged with barely perceptible weariness.

"You used to have passion and confusion in your eyes, but at least... there was still warmth."

Gern didn't refute, he just smiled and said, "People always change, teacher."

The night wind grew colder, and the two shadows stretched long on the ground, yet they never met.

“Sengoku has already assigned you to carry out the mission independently,” Zephyr said, his tone regaining its usual composure, and handed the mission intelligence file to Gern.

"That is 'Rending Island' Dog, a pirate with a bounty of 360 million."

“I understand,” Gern nodded.

“I won’t interfere in this mission.” Zephyr turned, his cloak fluttering in the wind. “But Gern, remember this…”

He stopped and looked back at his most prized disciple, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

"Killing may solve the problem temporarily, but it can never bring true justice."

So… tell me! That's not your justice, is it?! Guern.

“I’m still looking…” Before Gern could finish speaking, Zefa tossed over a bottle of wine, a dark green bottle.

“Professor Zephyr…” Gern frowned as he looked at the wine in his hand.

"Don't lose yourself in the search for justice and end up on the wrong path!"

Your sense of justice isn't "it"; if you go down the wrong path... I'll personally wake you up!

Gern watched Zefa's departing figure until the purple hue completely blended into the night.

"Ha, you yourself like to say that."

Isn't it cool for a man to carry out his beliefs to the very end in his life? Such words...

Gern muttered to himself, opened the wine Zefa had given him and drank it. His fingers unconsciously stroked the black sword, Bahuang, at his waist, and the scabbard vibrated slightly, as if responding to his thoughts.

"Although it's not my justice, at least it can protect the people I want to protect."

In the moonlight, a resolute glint flashed in Gern's eyes.

As for one's own "justice"... perhaps the real "answer" will only be found at the end of this road.

........

Three days later, Marineford Naval Base.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the rising sun cast a pale golden halo over the harbor.

The sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, swept across the dock, causing the masts of the moored warships to creak slightly.

Gern stood on the deck of the warship, wearing a white cloak of justice befitting a naval officer.

Inside, however, was a pure black fitted suit with dark red embroidered patterns on the collar and cuffs, quite different from the blue and white uniforms of ordinary naval personnel.

His cloak fluttered in the wind, revealing the black sword, Bahuang, wrapped in layers of bandages at his waist (he's grown taller now, so he doesn't have to carry it on his back anymore).

In two years, he has grown to nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. His muscles, encased in combat gear, appear lean yet powerful.

His short black hair stood out in the morning light, his face was well-defined with a strong jawline, and a faint smile always lingered at the corners of his mouth.

The naval soldiers on deck were secretly glancing at Gern, whispering amongst themselves.

"Is he Captain Gern, who's on par with those three monsters? He looks younger than the rumors say..."

"Shh! Keep your voice down! I heard he never leaves anyone alive on his missions, he even beheads surrendering pirates with a single stroke!"

"But why is his knife wrapped in bandages? Is it some kind of seal?"

Gern ignored the discussions and simply stared down at the mission briefing in his hand.

Dog, nicknamed "Rip Island," is a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit user from the South Blue, with a bounty of 360 million.

When it touches a non-living object (such as a weapon, building, or ground), it can instantly split it into multiple fragments or smaller units.

"Can only control the splitting of non-living entities... Is it a subordinate of the Chop-Chop Fruit?"

"Heh, interesting..." Gern muttered to himself, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the hilt of the knife.

"Captain Gern!" At that moment, a messenger rushed over and saluted.

"The science unit has just delivered a batch of new weapons and equipment, saying that it was specially prepared for you by the Warring States general."

Without looking up, Gern said, "Throw it in the warehouse."

"But, but..." the messenger hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.

"Is there a problem?" Gern looked up.

The messenger froze instantly, like prey being stalked by a wild beast, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

"No, no! I'll arrange it right away!"

After the messenger fled as if on the run, Gern turned his gaze to the fortress in the distance of the port.

At the highest window, a purple figure was faintly visible—Zefa was standing there, his sunglasses reflecting the morning light, obscuring his expression.