Chapter 164: That Pierces the Heart, Old Lungs

Somewhere in the open waters outside Enies Lobby.

Qiubai drifted alone in a small boat with a Celestial Dragon, watching another identical boat row toward them. As he had anticipated, there was only a single person on board.

"To be able to resolve such a 'major incident' within three days, this must surely count as a rare achievement, Fleet Admiral." As the other party drew closer, Qiubai spoke first.

Clearly, he was well aware of the gravity of the situation, knowing this was a world-scale crisis.

"Yet the Celestial Dragons will not feel the slightest bit of gratitude. Is Her Excellency Charlos-gong unharmed?" Sengoku asked, directing his words at the Celestial Dragon.

However, she remained silent, leaving Qiubai to answer in her stead. "Of course she is unharmed."

"Qiubai, I have heard your name. You are said to be quite a uniquely independent pirate, but... what exactly is your purpose?" Sengoku demanded.

There was no doubt that this "independent nature" had been leaked by Rosinante. Moreover, to avoid provoking Qiubai unnecessarily, this was likely a sanitized description by Sengoku; these four words were probably not Rosinante's original phrasing.

His actual words might well have been just three characters.

"Hold on, hold on. To prevent you from suddenly unleashing a fatal blow on me, I had better let you understand the current situation..." Qiubai did not believe for a second that the Marine Fleet Admiral would allow himself to be manipulated. Once assured that the Celestial Dragon was safe, Sengoku would undoubtedly try to eliminate him first. And since their combat powers were not in the same league—even out here in the ocean, where Sengoku was a Devil Fruit user bound by the absolute weakness of water—Qiubai did not possess a single shred of confidence that he could win against him.

Prudence is the better part of valor.

With that, Qiubai pulled back the cloak covering the Celestial Dragon, and then... Sengoku saw a gaping, front-to-back hole right through the center of Charlos-gong's chest, precisely where her heart should have been.

Qiubai even reached his arm through from behind the wound, extending it out the front to wave at Sengoku... What should have been a classic groroping gesture had now been thoroughly transformed into a brutal stabbing.

"To prevent myself from being suddenly bludgeoned to death, I have temporarily stored Charlos-gong's heart at a certain location in Enies Lobby. Of course, Fleet Admiral Sengoku, you are still free to make a move right now, provided the Marines are absolutely certain they can recover this heart." Qiubai spoke casually, but could Sengoku really afford to do that?

Just why was the Ope Ope no Mi valued at four to five billion Berries? A Devil Fruit capable of such grotesque sorcery was truly one of a kind... While the future Trafalgar Law might not yet be able to pack a heart into a jelly jar like he would later on, cleanly excising it wholesale, juices and all, was entirely feasible.

"The Ope Ope no Mi, is it? You are being overly cautious. I had no intention of doing anything to you." Sengoku's words were somewhat hollow; if he didn't wipe out Qiubai, how was he supposed to answer to the Celestial Dragons?

So that was pure nonsense, and Qiubai didn't believe it for a second.

"What will it take for you to return the heart?"

"Once I have left safely, naturally you can go and retrieve the heart. I was completely innocent to begin with; it was this Charlos-gong who insisted on boarding my boat for a sightseeing tour. You know, ordinary people cannot simply refuse the demands of a Celestial Dragon, can they?"

Qiubai's words were sheer fabrication as well, but the look he cast at Sengoku carried a profound subtext... Since he could not eliminate the ultimate culprit, Sengoku found himself, in a sense, standing on the exact same side as Qiubai.

The Marines and the Celestial Dragons were not cut from the same cloth. Only by aligning with Qiubai's narrative could they hope to quell the wrath of the Celestial Dragons to the greatest extent possible.

"Don't talk nonsense." Sengoku glanced sideways at Charlos-gong. Good grief, were you really going to spin such absurd lies right in front of the victim herself?

"Yet everything I am saying is the truth. The current situation is the truth as I see it, the truth as Charlos-gong sees it, and as long as the Fleet Admiral considers it the truth—while trying his best to make the other Celestial Dragons believe it is the truth—then this matter can be smoothed over."

Involuntary kidnapping versus voluntary sightseeing—the nature of these two scenarios was worlds apart.

Furthermore, what baffled Sengoku was that this Celestial Dragon's attitude clearly favored Qiubai. What on earth was going on? Had she been brainwashed?

That guess was remarkably close to the mark.

"Even if the 'truth' were indeed so, how can I be certain that you will keep your word and reveal the location of the heart after I let you leave? This transaction is unequal by any measure." Setting that issue aside for the moment, Sengoku raised a far more critical question. He couldn't possibly drag a Celestial Dragon back with a gaping hole in her chest, could he?

"I have already told the location directly to Charlos-gong herself. Since I do not trust Your Excellency, and Your Excellency does not trust me, conveying the news directly to the person involved is the most appropriate course of action..."

"More importantly... the Fleet Admiral should understand. At the time, I might have been somewhat emotional when I committed such an act, and now I deeply regret it. Therefore, I wish to sweep this matter under the rug as quickly as possible. What good would it do me to hold onto a Celestial Dragon's heart?"

In a sense, Qiubai's choice to risk a meeting with Sengoku, rather than simply dumping the Celestial Dragon somewhere at random, was precisely to convey this exact attitude.

Regretful or not, Sengoku could sense that Qiubai genuinely wanted to put the incident to rest. By now, the pirate probably realized just what kind of catastrophic hornet's nest he had poked.

Sengoku desperately wanted to order an immediate, comprehensive search of Enies Lobby, but that was utterly unfeasible. Trying to conceal a tiny object in an entire city—let alone on short notice—even if the Marines were given a full year, successfully finding it would require a miracle.

Sengoku's gaze shifted back and forth between Qiubai and Charlos-gong. After an unmeasured silence, he finally made his decision:

"Very well, you may leave."

Qiubai smiled. Sengoku had no choice; he had no other options left.

With a gentle nudge against Charlos-gong's back, Qiubai guided her toward Sengoku's vessel. Strangely enough, she even displayed a trace of reluctance at that moment, as though she wanted to remain by Qiubai's side indefinitely... Either she had genuinely contracted Stockholm syndrome, or she had awakened some masochistic tendencies over the past three days.

"By the way, how is Doflamingo?"

Just as Qiubai had rowed barely two meters away on the crest of a wave, he suddenly turned back to ask.

"...As per your request, I let him slip away," Sengoku replied.

"Is that so? That's wonderful."

Once Qiubai had drifted out to a safe distance, Sengoku lowered his voice and asked Charlos-gong, "Charlos-gong, where is your heart located?"

However, Charlos-gong merely glanced at him coldly and said, "The time to explain has not yet come."

Having been separated from Qiubai for mere moments, she was already slowly returning to the haughty demeanor befitting a Celestial Dragon.

Sengoku still felt that eliminating Qiubai would have been simpler and far more practical than helping him hoodwink the other Celestial Dragons, but could Qiubai possibly have failed to anticipate that?

Thus, there was no way Charlos-gong would cooperate with Sengoku.

The ultimate irony of this affair was that the Marine Fleet Admiral had ended up doing grunt work for a pirate. Though he was acting out of self-preservation rather than altruism, only Sengoku himself knew the depth of his bitter frustration.

Far in the distance, Qiubai was already rowing his battered little boat away.