[TIOP] Chapter : 142

Akainu didn’t bother to hide his ambition. He declared bluntly that he was more suited to be the Fleet Admiral than Aokiji. After a heated exchange, even Aokiji began to waver, questioning whether he truly deserved the title.

That was when Jack finally spoke up.

“I just want to say one thing,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “Since Aokiji became Fleet Admiral, every achievement in the Navy—no matter who made it—has his leadership behind it. His contributions cannot be erased. If anyone’s still unsure whether he’s fit for the role, just look at the Navy today.”

He raised his eyes and continued, “As for Admiral Akainu’s remarks—I'm afraid I strongly disagree. Aokiji hasn’t made any mistakes, and unless he does, no one has the right to remove him. He is the face of the Navy now. Disrespecting him is disrespecting the institution itself. Admiral Sakazuki may claim to act for the Navy’s good, but frankly, his actions have yet to produce any visible benefit. Meanwhile, Fleet Admiral Aokiji is running the Navy just fine.”

Jack’s words were a direct response to Akainu’s earlier accusation—that Aokiji had contributed nothing to the Navy’s current success. But now, Aokiji’s eyes lit up with renewed confidence. He had been losing ground in the debate, but Jack's support reminded him of the bigger picture.

“Hmph. An incompetent Fleet Admiral is the Navy’s greatest disgrace,” Akainu snapped, glaring at Aokiji without flinching.

“Oh? And isn’t the Navy’s growing reputation in the New World enough proof of Aokiji’s leadership?” Jack shot back, unimpressed. “He hasn’t even been Fleet Admiral for that long. If the roles were reversed, could you have done better?”

Akainu’s lips twitched. He was about to retort that the Navy’s momentum in the New World was all thanks to Jack—not Aokiji—but he hesitated. He knew that if he voiced that thought, Jack would simply credit Aokiji again.

At their level, personal credit didn’t matter much—unless you were Aokiji, and your entire position depended on it. For Jack, achievements were far less important than tangible results—like diamonds from bounties.

“In short, I don’t think Aokiji is fit to be Fleet Admiral. That’s that!” Akainu said curtly, clearly refusing to argue any further.

Jack shrugged. “So there’s no room for compromise between you two?”

“None,” Akainu replied sharply, throwing a glance at Aokiji.

There was a long pause. Then Aokiji finally spoke. “Would you only be satisfied if I stepped down as Fleet Admiral?”

Akainu’s eyes flashed. He nodded slowly, his face unreadable. “The Navy needs a competent Fleet Admiral.”

Aokiji smiled faintly, then stood up. “In that case... I’ll hand over the position of Fleet Admiral to Jack. What do you think?”

The room fell into stunned silence. Akainu’s expression darkened like storm clouds. He gritted his teeth. “Jack is still too young.”

“Oh? So you’re the only one qualified to be Fleet Admiral?” Aokiji asked with a cool smile. “No one else can possibly fill the role?”

That struck a nerve. The mood in the room shifted. If Akainu’s earlier arguments had held some weight, they now appeared driven more by ambition than justice.

Akainu realized he’d been exposed. For now, he could only stay silent. But inwardly, he knew it was over. He had come today hoping to provoke Aokiji into making a mistake—an opening he could use to force him out. But now, everything was out in the open, and Aokiji still hadn’t slipped.

Just as Akainu had been powerless to act before Aokiji erred, Aokiji now found himself in the same bind—unable to move against Akainu without crossing a line.

Then Jack broke the silence. “Well, the situation’s clear now. For the good of the Navy, I propose we expel Admiral Sakazuki.”

“No!” the objection came swiftly from Sengoku, who stood up with a serious expression. “Things haven’t reached that point yet. Kuzan and Sakazuki are both pillars of the Navy—we can’t afford to lose either one.”

Jack turned to him. “Then tell me—what should we do? Admiral Akainu openly disobeys the Fleet Admiral and is clearly prepared to launch a coup. Keeping someone like that in the Navy is the biggest threat to its future.”

Sengoku was momentarily at a loss for words.

In truth, it wasn’t just him—Garp and Tsuru were also beginning to grasp the gravity of the situation. Until now, they had seen this as a mere disagreement between two top officers. Let them talk it out, they thought. Things would return to normal.

After all, when Sengoku was Fleet Admiral, plenty of people disagreed with him, there were times when even Garp disagreed with him. He never expelled or punished anyone over it.

In their minds, Aokiji and Akainu would eventually find middle ground—or at worst, simply avoid each other.

But what they overlooked was this: Aokiji was no longer an admiral—he was Fleet Admiral. And a Fleet Admiral without authority or respect couldn’t lead the Navy.

The situation had clearly entered a deadlock. Akainu refused to back down, and Aokiji had no room to retreat. A heavy silence settled over the conference room, thick with tension.

Jack was the first to break it.

“I told you this would happen if no one listened,” he said sharply, his voice echoing in the room. “Now look where we are. What’s next? Will the Navy split in two? Are we going to have two navies?”

“There is only one Navy,” Garp said firmly, stepping forward to stand behind Sengoku. “It will never split. Anyone who even considers that path becomes my enemy.”

Sengoku gave a long sigh and added, “Garp and I agree on this—internal conflict must be avoided at all costs. The Navy must remain united. Beyond that, it’s up to all of you to sort this out.”

Jack's frustration was mounting. He rose to his feet, voice laced with impatience. “You old men and your endless stalling—it’s pathetic. Kuzan, I don’t care what decision you make. I’ve got your back regardless. Even if you want to kill this bastard, I’ll stand with you! But if you’re going to keep hesitating, then count me out. I’m heading back to G1. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Without waiting for a response, Jack turned and strode out. Kizaru, who’d been disengaged from the beginning, followed suit. He had wanted to leave for a while now—this conflict had nothing to do with him.

Left behind, Sengoku and Garp exchanged bewildered glances. How had it come to this? Wasn’t this just a disagreement over leadership styles and ideology? Why had it spiraled so far?

After all, as the leader of the admirals, Sakazuki had always been headstrong. He frequently ignored orders he disagreed with—so why now insist on ousting Aokiji?

Couldn’t Aokiji, as Fleet Admiral, simply delegate tasks to someone other than Sakazuki when needed? Why did things have to escalate into a power struggle?

While the two old men stood there, mentally fumbling for answers, Tsuru—the ever-perceptive strategist—rubbed her chin thoughtfully, a frown tugging at her lips.

“This isn’t a simple disagreement anymore,” she muttered. “It’s becoming a real problem.”

With Jack’s departure, the meeting couldn’t go on. No resolution was reached. But one thing had changed: Aokiji’s attitude. Whatever shred of reconciliation he had once considered was gone. From that day forward, he began to openly suppress Akainu, countering him at every turn.

This made life increasingly difficult for Akainu, and the tension spread. Vice Admirals who had once quietly supported Akainu began to complain. While they hadn’t been opposed to Aokiji before, they now saw that reconciliation was off the table. Sides were being drawn—and neutrality was no longer an option.