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

"From today onwards, for the first two years you will be an undercover agent in the reserve officer department of the 133rd branch. In short, your file is complete and your resume is clean."

It was simply because he developed a gambling addiction while undercover, so he frequently visited casinos for entertainment.

Upon hearing Asahi's words, Tesoro quickly took the document.

After all, the matter of killing a Celestial Dragon had bound him to Gern for the rest of his life.

But now, looking at the officer's ID in his hand, Tezzolo's lips curled up slightly, and he finally felt relieved.

In particular, the document clearly states "Naval Headquarters Reserve Officer" below his photo, while Stella's identity is registered as "Military dependent".

“Gern, this special law enforcement authority over the entire Western Sea…” Asahi muttered to himself as he looked at Tesoro reading the document, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes, “What a convenient thing.”

With this temporary authorization, Gern could freely mobilize everything in all the naval branches in the West Sea, and even directly execute "suspects" without going through legal procedures.

Asahi, taking advantage of his position as chief of staff and working in concert with Guern, completed the process of activating Tesoro's identity in just a few hours.

He forged files, fabricated resumes, and even arranged for "eyewitnesses" to prove that he had always been a member of the Navy.

"That kid, Guern, is getting better and better at playing games." Asahi shook his head with a smile, then turned and walked towards his desk. "But... I like it."

“From today onwards, your past ceases to exist.” Gern handed the documents to Tesoro.

"Remember, you are the Navy, and the Navy's justice... is defined by me."

Tezzolo took the documents; his gold ring shimmered in the sunlight.

He took a deep breath and nodded solemnly, while Stella gently grasped his hand, her eyes filled with determination.

Just then, the Den Den Mushi suddenly started vibrating violently.

At the same time, his calm face quickly contorted into an angry mohawk, veins bulging on his forehead and mouth wide open.

That's right, this is the exclusive communication mode for our Steelbone Sky Marshal.

"Oh, I forgot about one more thing!" Gern raised an eyebrow and slowly answered the call.

"Moshi Moshi, this is Major General Gern."

"Gern!!" the Den Den Mushi roared, almost screaming. "Do you even know what you've done?!"

The World Government just sent an urgent message: You killed the only CP0 member heading to the West Blue, didn't you?!

Gern rested his chin on one hand, casually twirling a pen in the other: "Yes, I killed him."

Den Den Mushi's expression froze instantly, seemingly not expecting him to admit it so readily.

"You..." Kong's voice suddenly lowered, trembling dangerously.

"Do you know what kind of organization CP0 is? It's directly under the command of the World Government!"

“I know.” Gern put down his pen, leaned forward, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"But the World Government also granted me special law enforcement authority over the entire West Blue."

The document states clearly—'Having the power to act first and report later on any suspicious persons'.

I suspected that CP0 was problematic, so I killed him.

It's legal and compliant, is there a problem?

"What's the problem? You're asking me what's wrong?!" The Den Den Mushi's expression became extremely interesting; Kong was clearly suppressing his anger.

"You son of a bitch... That CP0 agent was investigating the disappearances of Celestial Dragons! What makes you think he's suspicious?! The World Government is putting pressure on me now!"

"Just because he tried to interrogate my new recruits as soon as he got off the ship." Gern's eyes suddenly turned cold, and his tone became serious.

"Air Marshal, you should be well aware that during special law enforcement, any act that interferes with the investigation can be considered an obstruction of justice."

"Besides..." he deliberately dragged out his words, "I don't think there's anything wrong with my procedure!"

The Den Den Mushi suddenly fell silent.

You're fine, but I'm the one who's in trouble! You bastard.

After a few seconds, Kong's voice became unusually calm: "Gern, you'd better behave yourself."

"Air Marshal," Gern leaned back casually, "We in the Navy are all about procedural justice, aren't we?"

Den Den Mushi's expression twitched.

Steelbone Kong knew this tactic all too well—Gern was throwing a hot potato directly to the Navy's high command, forcing them to choose sides.

“You…” Kong took a deep breath. “Fine, get back to Marineford within a week! The investigation in the West Blue will be taken over by Storoberry!”

“Yes, Marshal,” Gern replied with a smile. “However, before the handover, I suggest you take a look at today’s special edition of the World Economic News.”

The Den Den Mushi (transmitter) slammed down.

Gern turned to look out the window—at the harbor, flocks of newsbirds were flying overhead, and the latest issue of the newspaper bore a striking headline:

[Naval Operation Thunder! Celestial Dragon Charmaco Returns to the Holy Land]

The subtitle is even more intriguing: ["Tianzhen" Major General Gern: Justice Must Not Be Tarnished]

The office door was pushed open, and Asahi swaggered in, a cigar dangling from his lips: "All done?"

“Of course.” Gern picked up the gold lighter on the table and fiddled with it.

"Now the whole world will believe that the CP0 member was executed because he colluded with pirates."

Asahi grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "That was a ruthless move of yours. Even the World Government couldn't publicly pursue it. But did you really find that Celestial Dragon?"

“Who knows!” Gern clicked his lighter, the flame illuminating his cold profile.

“In any case, Saint Charmacos must return to the Holy Land of Mary Geoise, in whatever form.” After saying that, Gern’s gaze turned to the horizon outside the window.

He knew that the emergence of this news meant that our corporate slave, Huang Yuan, must have already made a choice—to remain silent.

"Thank you, Senior Kizaru," Gern thought to himself, a smile flashing in his eyes.

Some understandings don't need words.

Some powers only need a "legal" name.

Chapter 121 Roger Diagnosed with Terminal Illness

West Sea, Port of the 133rd Branch

The black warship that Gern owned by him emitted a deep rumble, and the naval soldiers on the deck were busy making final preparations for departure.

Gern stood by the gangway, his gaze sweeping over the officers and soldiers of the 133rd branch who had come to see him off.

Asahi, with a cigar dangling from his lips, hands in his pockets, and a meaningful smile on his face, stood there.

"Just like that, you leave?" Asahi exhaled a smoke ring. "There are still many 'suspicious elements' in the West Sea waiting for your special law enforcement powers to deal with them."

Gern chuckled and patted Asahi on the shoulder: "The rest is up to you. Come back next time you have the chance."

And Tesoro....."

"He was personally promoted to headquarters by Major General Gern due to his outstanding performance." Asahi rolled his eyes.

"I'm telling you, your technique is so skillful it's frightening."

Tesoro stood not far away, his brand-new naval uniform making him look somewhat uncomfortable.

"Sir, everything is ready!" At this moment, the sergeant strode over, saluted, and reported.

Guern nodded, taking one last look at the port of the 133rd branch.

In the morning light, the lighthouse, marked with the cracks left by his youth, still stands, as if bidding a silent farewell.

"Let's go, destination: Marineford."

.......

Meanwhile, on the Grand Line, at Twin Capes

The setting sun dyed the lighthouse blood red, and the sea breeze, carrying a salty, fishy smell, swept over the cliff.

The Oro Jackson lay quietly at the shore, its hull bearing the marks of battle left in the New World, now restored in Water Seven.

"This is it!" Roger stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I heard that the lighthouse keeper is an amazing doctor!"

"Hey, Roger!" Ridley pushed up his glasses and smiled helplessly. "Are you sure you're not rushing to see a doctor because you have another stomachache?"

"This time it's different!" Roger laughed heartily, patting his belly.

"I made a special detour here because of the rumors about Crocus!"

The crew members disembarked one after another, with Bucky and Shanks leading the way, playfully fighting.

However, when they pushed open the door of the lighthouse hut, they were greeted by a thin, middle-aged man with a serious expression and wearing frog-shaped glasses.

“Unauthorized trespassing on private property,” Crocus said coldly. “Is this the etiquette of the Roger Pirates?”

Roger, unfazed by the other's coldness, strode forward with a bright smile: "Mr. Crocus! I've heard so much about you! I am Gol D. Roger, and I'd like to ask you for a favor!"

Crocus's gaze lingered on Roger's face for a few seconds, then swept over Rayleigh, Jabba, Barrett, and the others behind him, before finally sighing, "Come in."

Inside the lighthouse

In the dim light, Crocus's brow furrowed even more deeply after examining Roger.

For a moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze. Rayleigh stood to the side, his eyes behind his glasses gradually becoming serious.

After a long silence, Crocus withdrew his hand and said in a low voice, "The rest of you, go out first."

"Shall we go out?"

Seeing everyone's tension, Roger smiled and waved his hand, "It's alright, the rest of you go outside and wait for me."

After all, it was the captain's order, so the others should leave first.

Apart from Rayleigh, he remained standing quietly by the door, his eyes dim behind his glasses.

After a short while, once only Roger, Rayleigh, and Crocus remained in the room, Crocus went straight to the point.

“You have an incurable disease.” His voice was eerily calm. “With current medical technology, it is incurable.”

Rayleigh's pupils suddenly contracted, and his fingers unconsciously clenched.

Roger was only slightly taken aback, then laughed: "I knew it... After all, lately, whether I'm fighting or not, my body always feels unwell without warning."

Kurokas stared at him: "Your body is failing at an abnormal rate, especially your liver and kidneys."

Each intense battle, while not affecting the process itself, subtly accelerates it. He paused for a moment.

"At the current rate of deterioration, you have at most two years left."

Two years?!

There was a brief silence in the room.

"Doctor," Rayleigh's throat bobbed, his voice hoarse, "is there no other way?"

Kurokas shook his head and remained silent. "If I were to treat him, he could only last for two or three more years at most, and I could make his attacks less painful."

"Hahaha!" Roger suddenly burst into laughter, interrupting Crocus's words.

"So, that means there are still five years left? That's enough!"

Rayleigh turned sharply to look at him: "Roger! You...!"

“Rayleigh,” Roger’s smile remained bright, but his eyes gleamed with an unprecedented determination.

"Didn't we already decide to turn this world upside down?"

Crocus narrowed his eyes slightly: "You knew all along?"

Roger scratched the back of his head, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Ah, I started to feel something was off about six months ago."

“However…” he stood up, his eyes sharp as knives, “before I die, there is one more thing I must do.”

“So, Mr. Crocus,” Roger looked up, his eyes flashing with unprecedented seriousness.

"Please become my ship's doctor."

"Let me join you?" Crocus paused in wiping his glasses.

The sounds of Bucky and Shanks arguing could be heard outside the window, along with the clear sound of waves crashing against the rocks.

"Do you know why I guard this lighthouse?" Crocus didn't answer directly, but walked to the bookshelf and took down a yellowed nautical logbook.