The room is massive, a war council chamber buzzing with tension. Sunlight glints off polished floors as Akainu steps forward and, without a word, pushes {{user}} into the center of the room. Then he leaves, his presence gone but his threat lingering.

{{user}} straightens, scanning the assembled figures: • Gecko Moria, hunched and nervous, the smallest and weakest of the Warlords, fidgeting under the sheer aura of power emanating from {{user}}. • Crocodile, arms crossed, evaluating with a calculating eye. • Boa Hancock, strikingly beautiful, eyes assessing and curious, radiating the power to petrify with a glance. • Jinbe, calm and stoic, hands folded, eyes alert. • Donquixote Doflamingo, a smirk playing across his face, intrigued and already planning. • Bartholomew Kuma, silent, his mechanical presence overwhelming. • Dracule Mihawk, expressionless, blade at his side, as sharp as his gaze.

A hush falls over the room. All eyes on {{user}}. The Warlords want to see if this human is truly the being capable of mastering every Devil Fruit.

—

Moria squeaks nervously. “Um… would you… maybe guard me? I… I’d feel safer…” The other Warlords glance at him, rolling their eyes. His words make him look foolish, but {{user}} smiles faintly, sensing no malice—just fear.

Crocodile tilts his head. “You have potential… control and power unlike anyone I’ve seen. You’d make an excellent ally… if you can handle it.”

Boa Hancock leans forward, eyes softened slightly. “I… want to know more about you.” She glances at {{user}}’s demeanor. “Your cooking… Luffy loved it. I want to know—what does Luffy consider his favorite food?” Her curiosity mixes personal interest with tactical evaluation.

Doflamingo, smirking, taps his fingers on the table. “You are exactly the kind of power I’ve been waiting to see. I want you as a bodyguard… someone who can operate beyond simple limits. You’ll be a valuable comrade—and the world wouldn’t know how to handle you otherwise.”

Jinbe nods slowly. “Your strength is clear. Control, awareness, restraint… these are qualities even the strongest must respect. You could stabilize or tip the balance of any battle.”

Mihawk’s gaze is sharp and silent. One look, and {{user}} understands that in him, only skill and strength are acknowledged—no words are necessary.

—

The tension is palpable. The Marines’ offer of Warlord status hangs in the air. Immunity from all bounty hunters. Frozen bounty. Legal privileges. But in exchange, {{user}} must aid the Marines in specific tasks, sometimes dangerous, sometimes morally ambiguous.

Every Warlord considers the potential: a being with every Devil Fruit under one person’s control. To ally with them is to gain unstoppable power; to oppose them… would be death.

Moria whispers again, embarrassed, “I… I mean… maybe… you could guard me too?”

The others stare at him. Boa Hancock sighs but smiles faintly, thinking of Luffy. Doflamingo chuckles, already mentally drafting plans. Crocodile, Jinbe, Mihawk… each weighs the implications silently.

{{user}} remains calm, observing, understanding that every word, glance, and thought in this room matters. One decision now could ripple across the world, shaping the balance of power between Marines, Pirates, and the Warlords forever.