A long moment later, a visibly unsettled Vice Admiral Dalis boarded the warship docked at the dilapidated pier. The ship had already begun to pull away from the shore, but Dalis still hadn't fully processed what Wilder had said.
When he had asked his question, Wilder's answer now echoed in his ears.
"So… audacious!" Dalis couldn't help but exclaim as he came back to his senses. "That man's ambitions are no small thing. To demand that the World Government and Marine HQ announce the complete erasure of all past crimes for him and his subordinates."
While the status of a Warlord already implied this, that was only true so long as nothing went wrong. Wilder's condition was a masterstroke, a move that would protect him from the Marines even if he lost his Warlord title in the future. Because by then, he would be an ordinary king, not a pirate.
"Heh," Dalis chuckled, then turned to look at the more than one hundred cannons on his ship, now covered by canvas tarps. His smile vanished.
"Hah…" A single sigh was all it took to know the outcome. The higher-ups had ultimately agreed. The cannons were only part of it; the most important factor was… this was an unprecedented "pacification" for the Marines.
After the announcement, Wilder would maintain his status as a Warlord, but he could no longer plunder from civilians, as doing so would incur new criminal charges, rendering the current arrangement useless.
At least, that was how it was on the surface.
The title of Warlord would become meaningless to Wilder. Its only remaining purpose would be to serve as a bridge between him and the Marines—a bridge for deeper cooperation.
In exchange for the benefit of a clean slate, he naturally had to give something in return. The cannons were just a down payment. As a Warlord, Wilder would be subject to the Marines' command. Of course, this was already the case, but now, a greater degree of cooperation would be expected.
Wilder could still refuse unimportant deployments. Both sides understood the unspoken limits, which had largely been committed to paper already.
Beyond that, the nation Wilder established would be recognized by the World Government. As for whether he would have the right and qualification to participate in the Reverie, that would depend on his own abilities.
Back with Wilder.
After seeing off Vice Admiral Dalis, Wilder received a message from his subordinates: Claire had arrived.
He didn't go to greet her; that wasn't his job. He picked up a Den Den Mushi and dialed Vice's number. "Vice, come back for a minute."
"Right," came the immediate reply from Vice, who was in the middle of a battlefield.
With over a hundred Mark II cannons swiftly deployed, the tide of the war turned even more dramatically in their favor. Wilder felt a sense of relief. At this rate, conquering the country within two days was a certainty.
Wilder turned and went back to his desk. He pulled open a drawer, revealing two exquisite boxes made from precious wood.
Seeing them, Wilder couldn't help but grin. The spoils from the raid on Vinsmoke Judge's castle were incredibly bountiful.
Not only had he acquired a great deal of treasure, scientific equipment, firearms, ammunition, and a massive amount of Beri, but he had also plundered two Devil Fruits from a secret chamber in the castle.
One of the fruits was off-white, shaped like a cantaloupe, with the mysterious swirl patterns common to Devil Fruits.
The other was deep green, shaped like a banana, and likewise covered in the same cryptic patterns.
What caught Wilder's interest was that he had never seen either of these fruits in any records; they didn't appear in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia.
Although Wilder was prepared to face Big Mom's wrath for attacking this country, he felt a constant, pressing sense of urgency.
His crew still lacked a true powerhouse who could hold their own on a grand stage. They didn't need to be on the level of a Sweet Commander, but they at least had to be strong enough to make a Commander take them seriously.
Unfortunately, he had no one like that. Even Wilder himself lacked the confidence to face Big Mom head-on. His every move was a decision born of necessity. This was why Wilder was willing to subject himself to temporary constraints—he needed a backer, or he would undoubtedly perish.
To blindly overestimate one's strength, to throw an egg against a rock, would only result in a shattered egg. Wilder was a man who could read a situation and accurately gauge his own strength. If he couldn't win, he couldn't win. There was no such thing as turning the tables through sheer grit and stubborn resistance alone.
Therefore, Wilder could only push himself and his subordinates to become as strong as possible. Even if it wasn't enough to handle the current crisis, it was better than nothing. At the very least, with increased strength, they had a better chance of escaping when the time came to run.
Wilder wanted to forge two top-tier Senior Executives. These two Devil Fruits were prepared for Claire and Vice.
If they didn't want to eat them, Wilder would have given them to someone else. Fortunately, it seemed both understood the situation and didn't resist the idea.
Before long, Vice arrived. As he entered, he saw the two Devil Fruits on Wilder's desk. He nodded and stood silently to the side.
"Let's wait for Claire to get here, then you can do it together," Wilder said to Vice with a rare smile.
"Hehe, whatever the boss says," Vice's voice boomed. His strength as a Senior Executive came from his well-balanced physical abilities. Wilder believed Vice could probably fight someone like Burgess for two days and two nights straight. Therefore, it didn't matter what Devil Fruit he ate, strong or weak; it wouldn't diminish his current power. The most he would lose was the ability to swim.
Even so, Wilder could feel Vice's nervousness. He didn't mind. It was Vice's first time, after all; a little anxiety was to be expected.
Soon, the clack, clack, clack of high heels approached from outside, the sound carrying an elegant rhythm.
The tent flap was lifted, and Claire appeared. She wore a black, open-work dress that highlighted her tall, curvaceous figure, her long, fair legs, and her slender waist. Her bust was fuller than before, and her delicate face was tinged with a shy blush.
"Boss." Claire habitually stood slightly behind Wilder, her head bowed from the moment she entered. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, and the tips of her ears were red. It was hard to tell what she was thinking.
Wilder had a vague idea of what was going on. He suspected their earlier phone call had led to some kind of misunderstanding.
Vice, on the other hand, was completely lost. He scratched the back of his head, looking utterly baffled.
Wilder didn't comment on it. He nodded and pushed the two boxes containing the Devil Fruits to the center of the table. "You two, pick one."
Since they didn't know what the fruits were, there was no reason to be picky. Judging by shape was pointless. Vice and Claire simply took the one closest to them.
The deep green, banana-shaped fruit went to Vice.
The off-white, cantaloupe-shaped one went to Claire.
They both glanced at Wilder. Seeing him nod, they took a bite of their respective fruits without hesitation.
"Blech!"
"Urgh!"
The flesh melted in their mouths, releasing a taste and texture reminiscent of a latrine pit that hadn't been cleaned in years. The experience was so soul-searingly awful that it made them want to die on the spot.
As expected, both of them gained their new abilities. Claire's was a Paramecia type. Vice's was a Zoan—an Ancient Species, Model: Estuarine Crocodile.
Immediately, Vice showed Wilder and Claire what a beast of a man looked like after evolving.
As he transformed into his Estuarine Crocodile form, the entire tent was torn apart, unable to contain his massive size.
A single one of his claws was larger than two Wilders put together. He was a true behemoth, a veritable monster of epic proportions.
Compared to him, the Jailer Beasts of Impel Down and that dinosaur fruit user were like little kids next to a full-grown man.
"Now this is a beast worthy of the Zoan name! Nyahahaha!" Wilder's eyes shone as he watched, unable to stop himself from bursting into a loud laugh.
"Vice, fight me! Nyahahaha!" Caught up in the excitement, Wilder leaped high into the air, landing on the massive crocodile's back and clenching his fist.
Voom…! He moved so fast that Vice had no time to react. In another flash, Wilder was on his back scales, his fist tensed and ready, before he struck down with the speed of wind.
BOOM! A wave of earth and dust erupted around the crocodile's body. The punch, carrying a shockwave, a Lesser Serpent Demon Fist, struck Vice's back squarely. Yet, it was like hitting forged steel, producing a loud clang. The scales were completely undamaged.
"Vice, that punch had a penetrating force. How do you feel?" Wilder had just used a weaker version of his Serpent Demon Fist, the Lesser Serpent Demon Fist, which also carried a piercing shockwave. He was surprised the scales were unharmed, but the attack was never about surface damage. Wilder wanted to know how Vice felt after taking the hit.
"My… my skin feels a little itchy underneath?" Vice's muffled, uncertain voice rumbled from below.
"..." The onlookers were speechless.
"Itchy?" Wilder laughed. The defensive power of those scales was insane.
"Good. For now, go and get used to your ability," Wilder said. "Of course… I wouldn't mind if you joined the battle right now. It would be good practice."
"Hahaha! Then I'm off, Boss!" Vice boomed. His four limbs suddenly began to move rapidly, kicking up a cloud of dust as he sped into the distance, shrinking to a small black dot in a matter of seconds.
"Hiss…!"
"That explosive power is insane, too."
The combatants watching were stunned once again.
Without a doubt, Vice could now stand on his own as a top commander.
As for Claire, after seeing her ability, combined with her already powerful Tempest Kick and Moon Walk skills, Wilder could only say that her future achievements would be no less than those of the Sweet Commanders or the All-Stars.
"Of course, judging by the state Vice just displayed, his future potential seems to be even greater than a certain 'Calamity.'"
Who was that guy again? The one at the bottom of the sea yelling, "Anybody, please, come save me"?
Wilder shook his head, clearing the strange thought from his mind. A sense of relief finally settled in his heart.
At least the foundation was laid—the indispensable top-tier combat power needed to stand alongside the great powers of the world.
"Claire, keep your ability a secret for now. All your training should be done in secret as well." Wilder wanted to keep his subordinates' abilities hidden. At critical moments, especially in times like these, it could be the key to victory. If an enemy analyzed them completely beforehand, they would come up with countermeasures.
"Yes." Claire was as obedient to Wilder's words as ever, and she seemed even gentler than before.
She followed him step-for-step back into the newly erected tent. Wilder had originally intended for her to join the battle, but seeing as the fighting was nearly over, he dismissed the thought.
Claire returned to Wilder's side, resuming her secretarial duties. But Wilder couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
The random blushing, the frequent zoning out… the more Wilder watched, the more he felt something was wrong. This kind of distraction was not a good sign.
"Claire." After some thought, Wilder decided to speak up.
"Ah? Oh, Boss, what is it?" Claire snapped back to reality, hastily straightening her clothes in a fluster.
Wilder stared at her quietly. "What are you thinking about? Is it because of Dana?"
Wilder wasn't an idiot. He had quickly figured things out and finally understood where that strange feeling was coming from.
Claire was deliberately trying to change herself. That was the source of the awkwardness.
With Wilder hitting the nail on the head, Claire was so embarrassed she had nowhere to hide. She buried her face in her now-ample chest, unable to respond.
"Mm… mm," she finally managed to squeak out after a long moment.
At that moment, Claire's hands were clenched so tight her heart was pounding. Just as she felt she could barely breathe, she suddenly felt a large hand on her head.
"Eh?" Claire looked up, dazed. Wilder was standing in front of her, she didn't know when, one hand stroking her smooth, long hair.
"Mmph!" Before she could recover from the sudden, strange situation, her eyes widened in the next second as a pair of cool lips pressed against her own soft ones.
"Get stronger." It was a brief touch. Wilder pulled back, looked at her, said those two words, and then walked out of the tent, leaving Claire standing there, frozen with a dazed expression.
"My subordinates are getting stronger. It's my turn now." Wilder's eyes flickered. He walked into the dilapidated ruins and sat down casually on a weathered earthen wall that had been ravaged by cannon fire.
With his back to the distant camp, he sat alone with his eyes closed. Against the orange-hued world and the dry, sandy wind, he looked bleak and lonely.
He sat in that position for an unknown amount of time. Finally, as dusk fell and the sun began to wane, Wilder's long-closed eyes suddenly opened.
"Hoo!"
A small wisp of translucent, pale purple gas emerged from his fingertip, swaying with the sandy wind before drifting away, disappearing without a trace.