After assigning the "Officer Factory" mission to Mandigore and Bilvat, Wilder's Den Den Mushi began to ring.
A quick glance revealed the caller was Claire.
Wilder knew what this was about. He had already told Claire to head for the New World back when he first encountered Cracker. The situation in the East Blue was largely stable; with Ashin, two provisional Senior Executives, and a large number of officers on hand, there was little to worry about. Besides, the powers in the East Blue still respected Wilder's name and wouldn't dare make any rash moves, even with a significant portion of his forces transferred away.
Originally, he had summoned Claire simply to bolster his own forces in preparation for the storm he knew was coming. But now, another idea had taken root—one he had shared with Claire last night after the battle, receiving the answer he had hoped for.
He answered the call without hesitation. Just as he expected, Claire's voice, sweet enough to melt one's heart, came through. "Boss~, I've entered the New World."
An amusing thought occurred to him. Ever since Claire had learned of the woman named Dana by his side, Wilder had felt a subtle, strange shift in her tone.
It felt… a little more alluring, perhaps?
After a moment of silence, Wilder asked, "Claire, have you been studying something… unusual lately?"
"Eh…! Eh?!!! Boss… how did you know!?" Claire's flustered voice burst from the Den Den Mushi.
"Ah… no! I mean, I haven't." Her words were already becoming incoherent. Wilder could almost picture her face, flushed bright red as she scrambled to deny it.
"Then hurry over, Claire. I can't wait," Wilder said, his voice flat and even. However, on a ship somewhere on the sea, Claire heard a different meaning entirely. A blush crept up her face and spread to the tips of her ears. She lowered her head shyly and responded with a barely audible, "Mm."
Hanging up the Den Den Mushi, Wilder frowned slightly as he listened to the distant shouts of battle outside his tent.
Still too slow.
The fighting was relentless, but at this rate, completely taking over the country in two days was a tall order. Time was running short.
A sense of urgency pressed down on Wilder.
Just then, the flap of the tent was pushed aside. A grinning Sacren led in a middle-aged man dressed in a white lab coat and wearing sunglasses.
Sacren was temporarily under Wilder's direct command, also serving as his bodyguard. It was worth noting that after spending so much time with the Black Serpent, Sacren had become much more cheerful and his personality had matured, though he now seemed a bit more reserved in Wilder's presence.
Wilder looked at Sacren, his gaze questioning.
Sacren gestured quickly. "Boss, I was on guard just now. He came over and said he wanted to see you."
"Oh?" This caught Wilder's attention. He certainly knew who this man was: Vane, the chief technician of his Munitions Department. The man was a scientist, and his presence could only mean it was a matter concerning weaponry. Wilder had to take this seriously.
Sacren, ever perceptive, reported the situation and then excused himself.
"Vane, come, have a seat," Wilder said with a friendly smile, gesturing to a nearby chair before returning to his own seat behind the desk.
"Thank you, Boss." Vane sat down facing Wilder, carrying the composed, unpretentious air of someone wholly dedicated to science.
"Boss, I've come today with some good news."
"What good news?" Wilder raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.
"We've successfully developed the second-generation cannon," Vane stated calmly.
But Wilder's hand, holding a cigarette, froze. He remained still for a few seconds before silently putting the lighter and cigarette away. He stood up and walked toward the entrance. "Let's go. We'll test-fire it."
Vane quietly followed.
After a few twists and turns, they arrived at the temporary garrison of the Munitions Department. Someone, having already heard of Wilder's arrival, had pushed out a cannon covered with a red cloth and was waiting at the entrance.
Wilder had already witnessed the appearance and combat performance of the first-generation cannons last night, and they had stunned him. He never expected the Munitions and Science Departments to have quietly created such a devastating weapon. It was no exaggeration to say the Mark I cannon completely outclassed every other cannon on the market. This was likely due to Vane himself—a firearms fanatic with a particular love for big guns. His research had never focused on things like pistols; instead, the more potential a weapon had to cause massive destruction, the more he pursued it.
The Mark I cannon was Vane's masterpiece. Its accuracy, range, power, and the rapid-combustion property of its explosions were far beyond what ordinary artillery could achieve. The ability to catch the Vinsmoke army so completely off-guard was largely thanks to Vane's Mark I.
And that was just the first generation. One could only imagine what the new Mark II was capable of.
Even if it was only an improvement in accuracy, the threat level would increase exponentially.
Wilder's eyes glinted as he stared at the red-draped weapon. He thought for a moment before giving an order. "Push it over to that distant earthen slope."
"Yes, sir."
Wilder could make out the general shape under the cloth and guessed that the improvements to the Mark II were likely more than just a matter of precision.
Soon, the group arrived at a deserted slope.
The red cloth was pulled away, revealing the Mark II cannon's true form.
If the Mark I had retained the general appearance of a standard cannon, the Mark II looked nothing like contemporary artillery.
The barrel was elongated, reaching over three meters, yet its width was smaller, barely half that of a normal cannon. The entire weapon was painted a military green.
Most importantly, the rear of the barrel no longer had a traditional fuse. It had been replaced with something resembling a trigger mechanism.
The cannon was fitted with wheels for transport and adjustment mechanisms. On either side were retractable metal supports to stabilize it during firing.
"Test-fire it," Wilder commanded after a moment of observation.
"Yes, sir." Two Munitions Department members in white coats stepped up to the cannon. Wilder noticed the ammunition they brought out.
It, too, had been redesigned. The old round cannonballs were now conical, strongly resembling the artillery shells from Wilder's previous life.
The two men loaded a shell into the chamber, adjusted the angle, and took aim at a target that had been set up a thousand meters away.
"Fire!"
Whoosh! A long, piercing shriek tore through the air. The men watched as a conical shell shot out of the muzzle, vanishing into the distance in the blink of an eye and landing squarely on the faraway target.
BOOM! A brilliant light erupted, accompanied by a deafening roar. A small mushroom cloud rose a thousand meters away, sending plumes of dust rolling outwards.
Even standing at their original position, the group could feel a faint tremor through the ground.
"Incredible, incredible, incredible," Sacren, who had followed them, stammered, his jaw hanging open.
"Hahaha! Not bad, right?" Vane turned back, a look on his face that said, 'You've got good eyes, kid,' a stark contrast to his earlier stoicism.
"Impressive," Wilder said, a bright light in his eyes. He turned to Vane. "How many of these Mark II cannons have you produced so far?"
Vane thought for a moment before looking up at Wilder. "Working around the clock, with every member of the Munitions Department involved, we've managed to produce two hundred and twenty-one Mark II cannons."
"Excellent. Deploy all of them in this war. Sacren, inform Vice and the other combat members to prepare to take control of the Mark IIs!"
"Yes, sir."
Sacren hurried back to the camp to carry out Wilder's orders.
Wilder, however, paused in thought, then turned to Vane. "Set aside one hundred and fifty of the Mark I cannons for backup."
Vane was puzzled by Wilder's plan but didn't question it. He nodded immediately. "Right away, Boss."
Returning to his tent, Wilder was lost in thought. After a long while, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes as he made a decision.
Since I've already decided to take a different path, I might as well go all the way!
Wilder took out a Den Den Mushi and made a call.
...
Not long after, in the waters just off the coast of Wilder's island, a Marine warship slowly approached.
Standing at the prow was a tall, middle-aged Marine Vice Admiral, his "Justice" coat flapping behind him. He stared at the rapidly approaching island, his expression growing grave.
"Everyone, on high alert! Our contact is the Warlord, Wilder. Although Admiral Kizaru informed us that we were invited for a discussion, he was the one who was invited personally. The Admiral is swamped with military affairs and couldn't make it, so we were assigned this mission at the last minute. Therefore, you will remain vigilant and composed when we land! But more importantly, you will not show any fear! Do you understand!?"
"Furthermore, according to the higher-ups, these waters will not be calm in the coming days. We are currently in a highly dangerous situation. Every one of you will be on your guard and prepared to neutralize any potential threats!"
"SIR!" the crew below responded, their voices resolute and brave.
The Vice Admiral let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't afraid for himself. This was his first time leading new recruits, and his first time leading them on a mission like this. He was afraid of how these rookies would react when they came face-to-face with that man and set foot on that island.
"This damn training exercise! Why did it have to be this mission? This is far too reckless! A mission like this is not something these rookies should be involved in. What was Admiral Kizaru thinking!?"
He had received his transfer orders and been on standby in these waters for some time. Though his ship was mostly crewed by new recruits, it hadn't been a problem. That is, if they were only on standby…
But an hour ago, a call had come from Admiral Kizaru himself. There were other fleets on standby in the area, yet his warship, filled almost entirely with rookies, was chosen. The mission: to land on the island and accept Wilder's invitation for a meeting.
The rest of the journey was silent. The warship slowly docked at a nearly abandoned pier. The Vice Admiral straightened his coat, stepped off the ship first, and set foot on the dock.
Behind him, a group of new recruits exchanged glances, their eyes betraying a nervousness they couldn't hide. With their hearts pounding, they followed him off the ship.
In the distance, further inland from the pier, a simple camp had been erected. Soldiers and combatants in black combat suits and goggles patrolled the perimeter with expressionless faces.
"Is… is that the Warlord Wilder's crew?"
The Marines watched from a distance, their palms sweating with nervousness as they advanced with stiff bodies.
As they reached the main tent, Wilder appeared, a cigar clamped between his teeth. The Vice Admiral stopped, and the two men faced each other, a two-meter gap between them.
"Welcome," Wilder said with a friendly smile, extending a hand.
The Vice Admiral extended his own. After a firm handshake, they entered the tent. A few of the more experienced-looking Marines followed them inside, while the rest, though nervous, remembered their protocol and formed two lines, standing guard at the entrance.
"I don't believe I recognize you, Vice Admiral," Wilder said, inviting the man to sit before taking the seat opposite him.
"It's only natural that you wouldn't, sir. I am Dalis, promoted to Marine HQ Vice Admiral through the World Military Draft," the man introduced himself, his expression calm as he picked up the glass of wine Wilder had poured and took a sip.
"I see," Wilder replied, a look of understanding on his face.
After a few glasses of wine and some pleasantries, they quickly moved to the main topic. Vice Admiral Dalis looked at Wilder, his expression turning serious. "So, Mr. Wilder, what is it you wish to discuss?"
"I have something interesting I'd like you to take a look at, Vice Admiral," Wilder answered almost without thinking.
"Hm?" Dalis's brow furrowed slightly. "And what might that be?"
Clap, clap, clap! Wilder didn't speak, merely clapping his hands. Dalis turned to look outside the tent as two soldiers in black combat uniforms wheeled in a Mark I cannon.
"This is something my men developed. Equipped with special ammunition, its accuracy, range, and power are more than three times that of the best cannons currently on the market. Even without the special ammunition, it's still about 2.7 to 3 times more effective."
Vice Admiral Dalis's eyes trembled. He stared at the cannon, which was clearly made of superior materials to ordinary artillery, and a flicker of intense desire crossed his gaze.
He subtly composed himself, but his surface calm remained. He turned back to Wilder. "And?"
A slight grin spread across Wilder's face. "I am prepared to provide the Marines with one hundred and fifty of these cannons, free of charge."
Dalis could no longer maintain his composure. His gaze locked onto Wilder. "Your conditions."
Dalis knew that nothing in this world was free. Wilder undoubtedly had conditions, and this was surely the true purpose of their meeting.
The air in the tent seemed to thicken.
The two men, of similar stature, stared at each other. Just as the atmosphere began to solidify, Wilder spoke calmly.
"I need the World Government and Marine HQ to make a public announcement for me."
"What kind of announcement?" Dalis had a feeling Wilder's ambitions were not small, and his expression shifted slightly.
Wilder glanced at him and said slowly...