Chapter 84: 84. The Cloak Of Justice, Discarded On The Ground

Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari My new fanfic One Piece: The Marine of Straw Hat Pirates is now available on Scribblehub ---------- The shock of the child's death briefly robbed Gion of her senses. But as the boy's panicked, lifeless eyes burned into her mind, a fire of anger ignited in her chest—a fury unlike anything she had ever felt. Yet, despite her overwhelming rage, she restrained herself. She remembered the justice she stood for, the values that bound her actions. Instead of drawing her sword, she seized the soldier by his collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground despite the stark contrast in their sizes. "You b*****d!" Gion's voice thundered, filled with fury. "That was a child! Do you even understand what you've done?! Amber Lead disease isn't contagious! The real cause of this disease is the mining of the Amber Lead!" The soldier squirmed helplessly, his feet dangling above the ground. Fear gripped him as he stared into Gion's blazing eyes. Stammering, he tried to explain, "Th-This was the king's order! He commanded us to eliminate anyone infected with Amber Lead Syndrome. Neighboring countries are terrified of this so-called plague spreading to their borders. Nobody wants to risk it!" "And besides," he continued, his voice trembling, "how can you be sure it isn't contagious? Even the World Government is turning a blind eye to these measures now!" BOOM! As if on cue, a massive explosion erupted in the heart of Flevance. One after another, the blasts echoed, engulfing the town in roaring flames that painted the white streets with a fiery red hue. Gion's grip on the soldier tightened momentarily before she flung him aside with a single motion. He crashed into the cordon, rolling several meters before scrambling back, panic writ large on his face as he scurried to safety. Ignoring him, Gion disappeared in a blur, vaulting over the blockade and dashing toward the western edge of the town. The streets were a vision of hell. Fires raged uncontrollably, consuming homes and filling the air with a sharp, acrid stench that made Gion's stomach churn. But even more nauseating than the smell was the sight of what lay scattered across the town: bodies, lifeless and broken, many riddled with bullet holes. This was no mere outbreak—it was slaughter. Gion pushed forward, her heart heavy with a sickening realization. Once, this town had been a beacon of prosperity and joy. She remembered walking these same streets during her time stationed in North Blue, surrounded by laughter and life. Now, not even the faintest echo of happiness remained. As she approached the western port, a horrific scene greeted her. The refuge ship, the last hope for Flevance survivors, had been reduced to a smoldering wreck. Surrounding it were the small bodies of children no older than ten, alongside nuns who had been trying to protect them. Each had been shot, their lifeless forms crumpled on the bloodstained ground. "Marine?" Two soldiers stationed nearby froze at the sight of Gion. Their faces turned pale as they raised their weapons, trembling. "D-Don't come any closer!" one shouted. "You'll infect us! We don't want to catch that cursed disease!" Their fear was palpable, but Gion didn't even register their words. Her gaze was fixed on the bodies of the children and the serene expression frozen on one of the nuns' faces. Something inside her snapped. Her fists clenched tightly as she stepped forward. One of the soldiers, his nerves frayed, accidentally pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the ground near Gion's feet. In an instant, she vanished. By the time the soldiers realized what had happened, Gion was already behind them. The sound of her sword slicing through the air was followed by two dull thuds as the soldiers crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath them. She sheathed her blade and stepped toward the lifeless children. One by one, her eyes scanned their faces, until they settled on the nun. Her peaceful smile only deepened Gion's anguish. Suddenly, the ringing of a Den Den Mushi broke the silence. Gion reached into her pocket and glanced at the device. It was a call from Vice Admiral Tsuru. She hesitated, then shoved the Den Den Mushi back into her pocket without answering. As she turned to leave, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Spinning around, she saw a boy wearing a winter hat standing amidst the carnage, his wide eyes filled with terror and disbelief. "Law?!" Gion's voice cracked as she recognized the boy: Trafalgar Law. Law froze at the sound of his name. He turned to look at Gion, his face a mixture of recognition and dread. Without saying a word, he bolted, running as fast as his legs could carry him. "Wait!" Gion called after him, but her voice was swallowed by the crackling of the flames. "Law! Do you recognize me? I'm Gion—the one who spoke with your father when I visited White Town!" Gion's voice carried urgency as she chased after the boy. She couldn't let him run away, not like this. When she first came to Flevance, she had tried to warn the doctors, including Trafalgar Law's father, about the dangers of Amber Lead. She explained the hidden risks of the ore and urged them to find a solution. But even the most skilled physicians in Flevance had deemed it an incurable disease—one that had plagued their people for over a century. In her desperation, Gion had proposed bringing together the world's leading medical nations to address the crisis. Yet, when she returned to Marine Headquarters to push for action, her efforts were stonewalled. Months passed with no progress. The issue was buried under bureaucracy and the selfish priorities of the World Government. And now, the consequences of inaction lay before her: a country reduced to ashes, its people slaughtered like vermin by their neighbors. "Don't follow me!" Law's angry voice snapped her from her thoughts. The boy suddenly stopped, spinning around to face her with a fiery glare. "I hate Marines the most!" he shouted, his voice cracking with rage and pain. "My father figured out the truth about this disease long ago! He knew it wasn't contagious! He begged the world and the Marines for help, but no one would listen! When there was no answer, the calls were cut off. You should know this!" Law's words hit Gion like a cannonball. She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued, his voice rising with bitter frustration. "If the World Government had told the truth, if they had admitted the disease wasn't contagious, then this country wouldn't have suffered like this! We wouldn't be treated like rats—shot on sight, hunted down like animals. My parents wouldn't have died... and Lami..." His voice broke, and his anger turned into a heart-wrenching sadness. Law's face twisted with grief, and without another word, he turned and ran toward his home. Gion stood frozen, his words echoing in her mind. The hatred and bitterness Law radiated toward the Marines were palpable. Gion could feel it, sharp and unforgiving, like a blade pressed against her heart. She couldn't help but recall her earlier conversations with the doctors in Flevance and the countless times she had tried to push the World Government to act. But each attempt was met with resistance or outright refusal. The government had known about the dangers of Amber Lead for over a century, yet they chose profit over people. The royalties paid by Frevans every year as Heavenly Tribute were too valuable to risk losing. When the disease spiraled out of control, the government didn't offer aid or solutions. Instead, they abandoned the country, sealing its fate. The royal family and nobles had escaped long ago, but the citizens—the lifeblood of the nation—were left to die, their suffering fueled by ignorance and superstition rather than the disease itself. Was this the justice Gion had vowed to uphold? Was the World Government truly a god-like entity that could decide the fate of nations on a whim? The weight of these thoughts bore down on her, heavier than ever. She felt the crushing burden of the word "justice" etched into her Vice Admiral's coat. For the first time, Gion felt ashamed of the organization she represented—not because of the ideals of the Marines, but because of what they had become under the World Government. This wasn't the justice she had believed in as a child. This wasn't the ideal that had driven her to join the Marines. Her thoughts turned to Marine hero Monkey D. Garp's son, Dragon, who had once been a Marine himself. He, too, had walked away, unable to reconcile his ideals with the harsh truths of the World Government. Was this the same realization that had driven him to become the Revolutionary Army's leader? Gion's resolve wavered as she reached for the Marine cloak draped across her shoulders. Her fingers brushed the emblem of justice stitched onto the fabric. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled the cloak off and stared at it. Then, with a deep breath, she let it fall to the ground.