Kuke was dead.

Yet the influence he left behind continued to resonate, diminishing the fear and reverence once held for the World Government and the Celestial Dragons by the people of the seas.

There were two ways to erase this influence:

One method was to bury the truth, as the World Government had done with Rocks—a method that required time.

The other was to defame, similar to how they had handled the Pirate King, Roger, painting him as a reviled figure responsible for the chaos of the Great Pirate Era.

Today, Sengoku chose to stain Kuke’s memory.

This day provided the perfect moment.

A few carefully chosen words could achieve more than a smear campaign run over years through newspapers.

First, tarnish his image and weaken his impact, then gradually erase all traces of him. Sengoku believed that in a few years, perhaps ten, few would remember Kuke. And even if they did, it would not be fondly.

Before the entire world, Sengoku slowly began recounting Kuke’s background: “Kuke was once a citizen of the Kingdom of Berg.”

“Berg Kingdom?”

“Isn’t that a small nation on the first half of the Grand Line?”

“Berg was destroyed by pirates long ago; it’s been history for ages.”

“If pirates destroyed his home, then why would Kuke become one? Shouldn’t he despise them?”

This revelation stirred immediate murmurs among the audience.

Just as Sengoku had anticipated. He continued, “The Navy rescued eight-year-old Kuke, brought him to headquarters, and made him part of the recruit training program. I once thought that, having lost his home to pirates, Kuke would be a fierce enforcer of justice, a sworn enemy of pirates. But little did I expect…”

His tone carried a note of regret.

“I truly never expected that Kuke, whom I respected, would betray the Navy after they saved him and raised him, ultimately joining the pirates. I misjudged him.”

“The Navy was Kuke’s savior, raising him up. Without the Navy, eight-year-old Kuke wouldn’t have survived the seas.”

“I thought Kuke had been forced into piracy, but it turns out this was the reality.”

“But Kuke’s deeds don’t seem like those of a pirate.”

“Let’s hold our judgment and see what else we hear.”

The seas erupted in debate.

Even some of those who had admired Kuke began to doubt him.

This was exactly what Sengoku aimed for.

It only took a few insinuations for people to begin drawing their own conclusions.

All he needed was to steer them gently.

“Hina, is any of this true?” Smoker asked Hina, as he had been unaware of these details.

Though he and Kuke had been classmates, their paths had seldom crossed, and his knowledge was limited. By the time Kuke’s reputation had spread across the seas, the Navy had already locked down all intelligence about him. Smoker turned to Hina, who had once been closer to Kuke.

Hina frowned slightly.

She knew better.

“Smoker, don’t forget—Kuke and Gion were childhood friends. Kuke was eight years old back then, and Gion was already eighteen. At that age, Gion could hold her own against vice admirals and had joined the Navy with considerable power.”

She looked at Smoker meaningfully.

Do you understand now?

With Gion’s strength at the time, she could easily protect Kuke. They lacked neither strength nor resources. Kuke could effortlessly produce millions of Berries and had no shortage of funds or power.

Why would they need the Navy’s help?

The Navy wasn’t a critical lifeline, nor were they the ones who had initially reached out to Kuke.

Smoker’s eyes lit up with understanding.

But the rest of the world remained oblivious.

To them, it only appeared that Kuke had repaid kindness with betrayal.

Sengoku spoke again, capturing everyone’s attention. This time, he didn’t dwell on the question of why Kuke had betrayed the Navy.

“Kuke showed promise in the training camp. I valued him highly, considering him a potential future admiral.” Sengoku controlled his expressions and emotions with practiced ease, revealing none of the truth—that Kuke had been expelled from the training camp.

Stating the facts plainly would invite disbelief. Given Kuke’s proven strength, no one would believe that he had been weak in training. They would only suspect Sengoku of lying.

Such an admission wouldn’t damage Kuke’s reputation but would instead cast the Navy as short-sighted.

The audience seemed to agree, nodding thoughtfully.

Given Kuke’s apparent skill level before his death, it seemed reasonable that the Navy would invest in his training.

“Before focusing on his training, I observed Kuke closely. Beyond combat ability, I value character above all. If one cannot uphold justice, the stronger they become, the more dangerous they are. Such a person could threaten the seas rather than protect them.”

The public nodded in agreement.

A poor character in an admiral would be far more damaging than any infamous pirate.

“During my observation, I discovered… well, I decided Kuke needed two years of grassroots experience to temper his character. But I never expected things would turn out this way.”

Sengoku heaved a sorrowful sigh.

Without detailing what he had discovered, he left the audience guessing, almost as if he were sparing Kuke’s dignity. But the less he said, the more people speculated.

What had he discovered?

Perhaps Kuke’s character was flawed, or maybe he’d committed a grievous misdeed that had deeply disappointed the Fleet Admiral. Was it excessive cruelty, dishonesty, or a lack of moral compass?

It’s the words left unspoken that leave the greatest room for assumption.

By being vague, Sengoku allowed everyone to assume the worst, then believe their assumptions as truth.

Smoker finally spoke up in a low voice. “Turn it off.”

He could feel the weight of his newly awarded officer’s uniform growing heavier by the second.

The burden was almost unbearable.

“No, Hina wants to keep watching,” Hina replied, shaking her head.

…

“I wanted to change Kuke, but, sadly, my good intentions only led to tragedy. Kuke grew resentful, not only toward me but toward the Navy itself, ultimately conspiring with Gion in this misguided retaliation.”

With a heartbroken expression, Sengoku cast a final judgment on Kuke, portraying his actions not as noble acts of liberation or justice but as petty acts of revenge—a betrayal of the very people who had saved him.

Such motives stripped his deeds of heroism, turning them into mere stains on his record.

“Well done,” the Five Elders praised, satisfied with Sengoku’s performance.

Especially as they received positive reports from nations around the world.

The smear campaign was a success.

“Though we couldn’t cast Kuke as a universally reviled figure, his influence has diminished significantly. In a few years, after the newspapers reinforce this narrative, he will surely be remembered as a despised traitor. And eventually, as we erase all traces of him, in a decade, the new generation will know Kuke only as an ungrateful defector unworthy of sympathy.”

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P/S: If you are interested, you can read up to chapter 144+ at patreon.com/Emik01.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep