A heavy atmosphere hung in the air of the Marine Headquarters' Marshal's office.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, with his hands propped on the desk, lowered his brow, looking somewhat weary.
When Jin An stood before him, Sengoku revealed a hint of apology, his eyes filled with guilt.
"I didn't expect you to encounter Kaido again." Sengoku's voice was somewhat low, seemingly carrying a trace of helplessness.
He sighed and looked up directly at Jin An. "I'm sorry, the Headquarters' forces are somewhat depleted at the moment; we haven't even left many scouts behind."
Jin An stood upright, and upon hearing these words, he slightly shook his head, his face devoid of any ripples.
"So many people have been conscripted?" His tone was calm, as if the Kaido incident was just a part of the daily routine.
Sengoku silently nodded, a hint of unease in his expression.
As Fleet Admiral, he deeply understood the pressure the Navy was currently facing.
Even a powerhouse like Jin An had to face a monster like Kaido. How much chance of survival did the average Marine have when facing such a formidable enemy?
His mind was filled with thoughts, as if he could already see the faces of those who had sacrificed themselves on the battlefield.
Jin An remained silent; he also understood Sengoku's contemplation at this moment.
The air was momentarily quiet, both men preoccupied with their own thoughts, their gazes inadvertently avoiding each other.
In the silence, a complex look flashed across Jin An's eyes. He understood Sengoku's difficulties and the cruelty of war.
Even those of them standing at the pinnacle could not stop the torrent of fate from crushing innocent lives.
Suddenly, Sengoku smiled, attempting to break the heavy atmosphere.
"First of all, welcome back." He said, his tone becoming slightly lighter, but that smile seemed somewhat bitter in Jin An's eyes. "Next, you should get some rest."
Jin An slightly raised the corners of his mouth, revealing a faint smile.
Although he wanted to say that he wasn't too tired, that all the battles and travels he had experienced these days were just a part of his life.
But he also knew that the pressure Sengoku bore was far beyond his imagination.
The Navy's duty was not just to defeat enemies but also to protect the safety of countless civilians.
And these responsibilities ultimately fell on Sengoku's shoulders.
Sengoku's smile remained on his face, like a thin mask, concealing the heaviness within.
Jin An didn't say much more, lightly waving his hand. "Then I'll head back first."
Sengoku nodded, watching Jin An leave the office.
The moment the door closed, the atmosphere inside the office instantly became extremely silent.
Sengoku stood in place, staring at the closed door, his brow gradually furrowing.
His gaze slowly turned to the window, his eyes heavily cast towards the distant Red Line.
"I have to go to Mariejois again..."
Sengoku muttered to himself, the suppressed feeling of heaviness unable to dissipate.
The continuous wars and conscriptions had almost exhausted the Navy's resources.
Without military expenses and manpower, the Marine Headquarters was barely holding on.
As Fleet Admiral, he had to request more assistance from the World Government, but he knew that what the Celestial Dragons truly cared about was never the lives of the Marines, but their own power and interests.
But he still wanted to try, because of the justice in his heart, for those Marines who would return to and those who could not return to the Marine Headquarters.
Sengoku sighed deeply, placing his hands behind his back, standing by the window, looking out at the towering Red Line.
The continuous wars and pressure made his shoulders feel heavier, and he knew that the trip to Mariejois would not be easy, and he would have to make more compromises to exchange for that meager support.
At this time, Sengoku's expression was no longer the composure and calmness he had shown when facing Jin An, but an undisguised weariness and helplessness.
Even with such powerful talents as Jin An, the Navy still faced unpredictable challenges, and the road ahead was still full of thorns.
......
Jin An walked out of Sengoku's office, and after gently closing the door, he couldn't help but sigh.
Standing in the corridor, he was silent for a moment.
The heavy atmosphere in the office seemed to still linger around him, making him feel an invisible pressure.
Jin An rubbed his forehead, as if trying to dispel the gloom from his mind.
He slightly raised his head, looked forward, moved his feet slowly forward, and muttered in a low voice: "This Fleet Admiral is really not a good job."
His voice was soft, but it revealed a trace of helplessness and emotion.
Becoming a Fleet Admiral—it sounded like the symbol of supreme glory and power, but Jin An knew in his heart that it was also the beginning of great pressure.
"Bearing the World Government's anger, not to mention taking into account the thoughts of the Marines under you and the operation of the entire army." Jin An secretly complained.
At this time, the slightly tired face of Sengoku and the heavy gaze in the direction of the Red Line appeared in his mind.
The pressure from the World Government poured in from all directions, the operation of the Navy, the arrangement of battles, the lives and deaths of soldiers, all pressed on the Fleet Admiral's shoulders, affecting the whole body.
This was not just a simple management position, but a daily confrontation with political games, dealing with countless hidden predicaments.
Even someone as strong as Sengoku could not avoid being mentally and physically exhausted.
Jin An put his hands in his pockets, his thoughts drifting, recalling his struggles and improvements over the years.
He had once been tempted by the Fleet Admiral's hat, wanting to stand at the peak, control greater power, and take the initiative in decision-making.
However, at this moment, the complexity of reality made him begin to re-examine this wish.
"Difficult." He said silently in his heart, a wry smile on his face, shaking his head, "It can only be said that it is too difficult."
Jin An stepped forward and continued to walk, his back still straight, but his pace was no longer as brisk as it used to be.
At this moment, he couldn't help but think about the internal and external contradictions of the Navy, the shadow of the World Government, and the countless upcoming war storms. The duties of the Fleet Admiral were really as heavy as a mountain, pressing on people's hearts.
After walking a few steps, he stopped, looked up at the distant blue sky, took a long breath, suddenly smiled, and whispered to himself: "It's good to be a Admiral."
His smile carried a bit of freedom and relief.
As a Admiral, he could have powerful strength without falling into the quagmire of politics and power struggles.
He could fight horizontally and vertically on the battlefield, and freely dispatch behind the scenes, without having to face the mountainous pressure and responsibility every day, which indeed reduced many constraints.
Jin An's eyes gradually returned to calm, and the hidden fighting spirit in his heart was rekindled.
"Fleet Admiral?" He murmured, a smile on the corner of his mouth, shaking his head gently, "Forget it, let Sengoku and the others worry about it."
His pace quickened a little, and his steps became more relaxed and free.
For Jin An, strength was his greatest asset, and how to use this strength was what he cared about most.
As for those heavy shackles of power, he was no longer in a hurry to compete for them.
...
