Mary Geoise, Room of Authority
"Heh, that brat Dragon really did defeat the so-called Slave King. Back then, didn't most of us think the odds were low?" Ju Peter chuckled self-deprecatingly as he flicked the intelligence report in his hand.
The document stated that King Taklama had officially been arrested by the Marines and was being escorted to Enies Lobby to await trial.
Nusjuro glanced over and replied, "Don't lump me in with the rest of you. I said it from the start—since this was Lord Imu's decision, there could be no mistake!"
"Indeed. In the end, we mere mortals cannot hope to grasp the full scope of Lord Imu's foresight. It's best we put away our petty calculations."
Mars let out a hearty laugh.
Across from him, Saturn shook his head and said, "I wouldn't call it petty calculations. On the surface, Dragon's strength did seem significantly inferior to that King Taklama's. Our concerns were reasonable—nothing more."
Ju Peter nodded and said, "From this perspective, it seems Lord Imu plans to entrust important responsibilities to Garp's son. But with the three admiral candidate slots already filled, how exactly will he be placed?"
"Hmph. If Lord Imu wills it, replacing someone is as simple as snapping fingers."
Nusjuro was utterly indifferent, as if this were a trivial matter.
"As for Dragon, I'm sure Lord Imu has already made his own considerations. No point wasting our efforts speculating," said Warcury as he looked back down at the intelligence file in hand.
"The Kingdom of Thutmose has officially been stripped of its World Government affiliation. The Department of Administration is organizing fleets from the South Blue nations to disperse and relocate the hundreds of thousands of slaves on the island. The Marines will oversee their repatriation."
"What's interesting is that those freed slaves, when questioned by reporters from various major news agencies, expressed overwhelming gratitude toward the World Government and the Marines."
Mars remarked, "The news of the Slave King's arrest is bound to draw global attention. Without a doubt, the next newspaper headline will feature this event. But with that, the World Government's intentions are now laid bare—no doubt the royal families and aristocrats of the member nations will become uneasy."
After all, the biggest players in the slave trade weren't the Celestial Dragons, but the noble classes of all the smaller kingdoms. Expecting them to obediently release their slaves was equivalent to seizing their personal wealth—no easy task.
"Hmph. Uneasy? So what? The agenda for this World Summit was personally set by Lord Imu. That guarantees it will pass. And once it's passed, they'll have no choice but to obey!"
"Refuse? Resist? Don't forget—the bridge in the East Blue still isn't finished."
Nusjuro once again made an uncompromising declaration. His icy gaze sent chills down the spine.
"Indeed. Even if this causes a stir, we can always replace the current royal lineages with a new batch," Warcury nodded in full agreement.
The conversation among the Five Elders ultimately revolved around the upcoming World Summit.
"By the way, how's the fake Roger's treasure operation coming along?"
Warcury turned to Ju Peter and asked casually.
The latter smiled. "It was a bit troublesome, but CP6 handled it well in the end. Everything went smoothly, all things considered. Now we just wait to 'find' it and bring it back."
Warcury nodded, understanding what Ju Peter meant.
The situation in the New World was far too complicated—staging something fake there while maintaining absolute secrecy was no easy task.
"How much treasure did you stash?"
Saturn, curious, raised the question from the side.
Warcury smiled faintly.
"Not much—just enough to fill two large cargo ships. And to ensure maximum impact, no paper money—only gold and jewels!"
According to the plan, they would eventually pile up this so-called 'discovered' One Piece, then broadcast it to the world via visual Den-Den Mushi.
"The whole world will be stunned... I wonder what kind of expressions Roger's former crew will wear."
Ju Peter burst into hearty laughter.
Just then, Mars noticed a maid tiptoeing over. The other four stopped laughing and shifted their gazes toward her.
"My lord instructed me to inform you that he's going out for a walk around the area. If anything comes up, please use the Den-Den Mushi to contact him directly."
At her words, the Five Elders seemed somewhat surprised. Once the maid respectfully turned and left, Warcury stroked his chin and murmured: "Looks like Lord Imu really is feeling a bit restless after such stillness."
"It's understandable," Mars said. "Honestly, it's more surprising that he stayed reclusive up there for hundreds of years in the first place."
Nusjuro mused aloud as he thought, "I suspect it has something to do with that prophecy Lord Imu once spoke of—that massive war and rebellion in twenty-four years that could threaten our rule. It must be weighing on his mind."
"What about the flying vehicle Lord Imu mentioned before?" Saturn asked.
"We've come up with a solution. It's being worked on now. It won't disappoint him!"
Mars grinned confidently.
"Good."
Warcury nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Ju Peter and asked: "Have you selected the CP personnel to accompany him?"
"Yes. Lord Imu requested only one CP member, which made things rather difficult. I spent a few days agonizing over it, but thankfully, I settled on someone highly qualified just the day before yesterday."
Ju Peter spoke with a visible sense of relief.
"A man or a woman?"
"A woman. And quite a beautiful one at that. Of course, more importantly, her background is clear and her abilities are solid."
At this point, Nusjuro interjected: "I've heard the Marine escort is also a woman. I saw her file—she's quite skilled with a sword."
"That makes two maids responsible for daily care as well..."
Saturn traced the carvings on his cane and asked with concern: "Isn't that a bit lacking in combat strength?"
But to that, Nusjuro let out a snort of laughter and replied: "What in this world could possibly pose a 'combat threat' to Lord Imu?"
"These attendants are merely there to handle minor chores for him, and maybe offer some entertainment to pass the time during the journey."
...
Imu had finally decided to leave Pangaea Castle.
The boredom these past days had been truly unbearable. For someone who had only transmigrated a little over a year ago, the lack of computers and smartphones was simply torture—and there wasn't even anyone around he could talk to.
Every day, all he did was practice swordsmanship, strum a few notes on the piano, read some reports… and the rest of the time? Just staring at the moon.
So, he left Pangaea Castle behind. And at a pace far quicker than one would imagine, he put Holy Land Mary Geoise far, far behind him. By the time he glanced back now, there wasn't even a shadow in sight.
"Phew—"
For some reason, Imu exhaled a heavy breath as if relieved of a great burden. Then, he took in a deep one—enjoying the unbelievably fresh natural air.
It wasn't that he particularly hated being in Mary Geoise. It was just… his mind and body felt genuinely at ease now. At least for the moment, he no longer had to feign indifference, nor worry about the burden of ruling the World Government.
"Oh? So the region right next to Mary Geoise is autumn-themed!" Imu looked around and chuckled.
He found himself in a crimson world. Above him, broad, red 'snowflakes' danced through the air. Beneath him, the ground was thick with fallen red leaves.
As far as the eye could see, the hills and valleys were blanketed with fiery-red maple trees.
Imu strolled leisurely through the forest, enjoying the crisp autumn breeze and the falling leaves, all while recalling what he knew about the Red Line.
The Red Line, in some ways, was like the islands of the Grand Line. It didn't follow the natural four-season cycle of the Four Seas. Instead, it was divided into distinct zones with different terrains and climates—some spanning hundreds of kilometers, others just a few dozen.
So if one were to travel the Red Line on foot, continuing in a single direction, they might pass through a snowy blizzard in one area, only to arrive in a sweltering desert in the next.
For a travel enthusiast, this must be heaven.
The Holy Land Mary Geoise was located in the spring zone, which meant its climate was perpetually full of sunshine, blossoms, and the gentle warmth of spring.
"If only there were someone to talk to right now," Imu muttered as he reached the edge of the autumn zone, gazing at the snowfields and icy peaks that appeared before him.
But then again, even if someone were with him—what would they even talk about?
Given his current identity, finding someone who shared common ground was no easy task. As for someone he could speak to on equal terms—that was just a fantasy. If such a person really existed, he probably wouldn't be all that happy about it anyway.
He had even thought about bringing a few beautiful women along. But with his current status, he felt his standards should be higher. He couldn't just pick anyone in desperation—doing so would only degrade his image, and worse, would be totally beneath his dignity.
"Forget it. No need to dwell on trivial things. As for women—they'll come sooner or later. There's no rush."
Imu forced himself to steer his thoughts away from women and began pondering how to make use of the Red Line. Though he looked like someone trying to escape responsibility, deep down, he still couldn't let go of his concerns over the power he held.
"This place is massive. If we moved people up here, the population would explode in just a few decades. There's also plenty of land to grow food. Leaving it all unused is such a waste!"
In his view, housing most of the population on scattered islands was not only inefficient for management and transportation, but also posed real safety concerns.
Large islands might be fine, but small ones? Those were constantly at the mercy of typhoons, tsunamis, and other disasters. Living on one of those was practically gambling with your life. Who knew how many islanders died every year because of those natural calamities?
But living on the Red Line would be an entirely different story. While each zone had a fixed season, the key was that it was stable. Plus, with its high elevation, there was no need to worry about tsunamis or anything like that.
"Population, population, population…"
Imu repeated the word to himself over and over.
Because he understood just how vital it would be for the future of the World Government.
Especially with the Star Map and Dimensional Gate he now had at his disposal—his golden cheats.
Whether it was for warfare or governance, an enormous population would be absolutely essential.
Sure, the other worlds would surely have their own inhabitants…
But at least in the early stages, he couldn't rely on them in large numbers.
The native population would be the foundation!
As he trudged through the endless snowfields, Imu suddenly came to a stop—because he was bored again.
He looked around. The scenery was pleasant, sure, but not a soul in sight.
Occasionally, a snow rabbit or snow fox would dart across his path, but that was it.
Truth be told, he wasn't really someone who enjoyed traveling.
The only reason he'd wanted to explore the outside world was pure curiosity—to meet interesting people and witness wondrous things. But so far, the landscapes of the Red Line had been too ordinary, too tame.
So then… what did he enjoy?
Watching movies, anime, reading novels, playing games, eating good food, and now and then playing sports—
"Looks like once the world situation stabilizes, I'll need to find a way to enrich this world's entertainment industry…"
Then, suddenly, Imu thought of someone.
A little guy who dreamed of becoming a pop idol—someone who loved the spotlight and dazzling performances.
"Given the timeline, that kid should be on the Sabaody Archipelago right about now. Could be a promising talent to groom. But movies and games are out of the question for now. Sports, though… that might be doable."
Imu rubbed his chin in thought, then turned around and started heading back the way he came. Watching dull scenery just wasn't as fun as doing sports.
And sports were games too, weren't they?
"But I can't exactly play by myself…"
[Polu-purupuru, Polu-purupuru]
Just as he was pondering which sport to try first once he got back, the Den-Den Mushi in his pocket began to ring. It could only be one of the Five Elders—they were the only ones who could reach him while he was out like this.
"Lord Imu, the escort personnel from Marine Headquarters and CIPHER POL have been selected. Would you like to meet them now, or wait until departure?"
"Let's wait until departure," Imu answered calmly.
But just as the Elder was about to end the call, Imu casually asked: "What are their names?"
"My Lord, the Marine Headquarters is sending a female rear admiral named Gion. Her combat abilities are average, but her appearance is outstanding. She's well-versed in all the traditional geisha arts. We believe she will bring you much delight during the journey."
"Gion?"
Imu raised an eyebrow. Now that was a familiar name. And admittedly, she seemed like a pretty solid choice.
"And the other?"
"She is Stussy, currently affiliated with CP9. Also exceptionally attractive, and quite capable—particularly skilled in intelligence gathering and assassination. We believe she'll be able to handle many minor matters for you."
Upon hearing the names of his two escorts, Imu's interest was clearly piqued.
He had just been bored out of his mind—so he quickly said: "Send them to meet me. Also, have a tennis court and all the necessary equipment set up near Pangaea Castle immediately."
"Uh—yes, sir!"
Warcury, back in Mary Geoise, was utterly confused—but still responded with a respectful "Yes" without hesitation, then gently placed the receiver down to end the call.
Imu, on his end, looked visibly excited. A faint smile crept onto his face.
"Finally—something fun to do."
But in the next second, that smile vanished. His usual cold, aloof expression returned.
And in a flash, he disappeared from the spot—his entire body shooting back toward Mary Geoise like an invisible bolt of lightning.