The dense, orderly sound of footsteps, clad in iron boots, approached. The sound of blades being drawn from their sheaths filled the air. In the distance, a large group of well-equipped Marines swarmed in from the surrounding streets, stopping near Wilder with gleaming swords and guns at the ready.
The man in the lead was a Vice Admiral whom Wilder didn't recognize.
"What happened here? Why are so many civilians dead?" the Vice Admiral demanded as soon as he arrived, his sharp gaze sweeping over the area, his words cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
A faint smile touched Wilder's lips. Before he could say anything, the young Marine agent stepped forward, gave a standard military salute, and said, "Reporting, Vice Admiral! Most of these civilians were killed by Peale and his gang of villains. A portion of them were caught in the crossfire during the battle between Mr. Wilder and Peale's group."
The young Marine's words were a faithful account of the facts, showing no bias. Although he didn't fully understand the meaning behind Wilder's earlier words, it didn't stop him from answering his superior's question.
The Vice Admiral frowned and shot him a glance, his voice cold and hard. "And who are you?"
"Reporting, Vice Admiral! Unit number 00814, attached to Marine Headquarters… assigned to an undercover mission on Lawless Island."
"I see…" the Vice Admiral nodded faintly. He then turned his attention to Wilder, took a step forward, and offered a perfunctory, almost programmed, thanks. "Thank you, King Wilder, for everything you've done for the Marines, eradicating the evil forces led by Peale that have been a plague on the bases under our jurisdiction. Now that the matter is concluded, you can leave the cleanup to us."
Wilder didn't reply immediately. His eyes rested on the Vice Admiral, and a meaningful smile spread across his face, as if he had just encountered something amusing.
"I believe you may have misunderstood, Vice Admiral. I am not as selfless as you say. I did all this simply because these people provoked me. Furthermore, I could not tolerate their wicked acts of oppressing civilians, so I decided to liberate this island. I will be formally taking over this island to provide these civilians with a better life and security. I will consider them a part of Morass. This is what I ought to do, so there is no need for you to thank me, Mr. Marine. After all… this is my responsibility."
Wilder's tone was flat and even, a faint, almost self-deprecating smile on his face as he spoke. He then added, "Oh, and by the way, I will be confiscating all the assets here to fund the reconstruction."
"Hasn't King Wilder misunderstood something as well? Everything here belongs to the Marines and the World Government. No matter how you look at it, you have no reason to claim it for yourself, do you?" The Vice Admiral's gaze on Wilder shifted, his tone a few degrees colder than before. "My duty is to clear out the remnants of the enemy here and collect the supplies."
"In other words, you mean to say that everything here will be handled by you Marines?" Wilder said, his smile unchanging. He then shook his head, feigning an inability to accept the terms. "That won't do. This was conquered by Morass. By all rights, the Marines have no claim to it."
At this, the surrounding Marines could feel the atmosphere growing tense. The young agent's mouth hung open. Only now did he understand what Wilder had meant by "negotiations." He wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. Or rather, it wasn't his place to speak.
How… how did it come to this?
The young Marine felt the tension in the air and couldn't help but clench his fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.
The other Marines stared at the infamous man in the center, their hands on their weapons slick with sweat. They too were caught off guard by the turn of events.
That's Wilder. What is the Vice Admiral thinking? Wasn't our mission just to help clean up the enemy?
The change in atmosphere made the Vice Admiral's nerves stretch taut. Wilder's words made his heart sink.
So… a pirate is always a pirate… Even if he isn't one now, he can't change his old habit of plundering.
He looked up, his gaze turning icy as he stared at Wilder. "This has always been a territory under the jurisdiction of the Marines, protected by us. When you say you 'conquered' it… are you saying you launched an attack on a Marine base?"
His words instantly heightened the tension. The Marines gripped their weapons even tighter.
"But what I saw was an island occupied by a group of pirates and villains. Other than this young undercover agent, I didn't see a single Marine. Are you trying to tell me that the Marines set up a fortress eight hundred miles away to monitor this place? Hmm… if that's the case, then I'm also monitoring Big Mom's territory. But even so, I wouldn't consider her territory to be mine. At least, not yet," Wilder said, leaning forward slightly, his expression calm as he looked at the Vice Admiral.
"What are you trying to say? Are you planning to seize Marine property? Don't forget the relationship between Morass and the Marines," the Vice Admiral said, his face completely falling, his tone cold.
"No, no, no." Wilder shook his head, then looked at the Vice Admiral, his tone still even. "There's one point you may not have understood, Vice Admiral. This has always been an unclaimed… no, it should be said, an unclaimed land occupied by a group of villains. Now, Morass has driven away and even eliminated those villains. In other words, from the moment the villains were eliminated, this territory belongs to Morass. Do you have any objections to that, Vice Admiral?"
"Or perhaps…" A cold arc pulled at the corner of Wilder's mouth, and his tone took on a less-than-friendly edge. He slowly leaned forward and whispered in the Vice Admiral's ear, "Are you trying to forcibly seize what belongs to my Morass? If so, I'm afraid I cannot agree."
SHING! The synchronized sound of swords being drawn, a flash of sharp metal gleaming in the night. A sharp, icy chill emanated from the blades, spreading through the street and lingering in the now-cramped space.
In that instant, the surrounding Marines tensed, their gazes fixed warily on Wilder. The gleaming blades in their hands seemed to display their resolve. They were ready for battle, every man's face grim, as if facing a great enemy. The moment Wilder's words fell, they moved in perfect unison, aiming their sword tips and gun muzzles at him.
"You want to make an enemy of the Marines?" The Vice Admiral raised his right hand and placed it on the hilt of the sword at his left hip. His words were hard and cold.
"Are you threatening me, Vice Admiral?" The smile on Wilder's face gradually vanished. His voice seemed to affect the environment; the Marines felt the surrounding temperature suddenly drop. Gurgling swamp began to bubble up from Wilder's hands and drip to the ground. The Vice Admiral narrowed his eyes, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword, slowly drawing it, revealing a flash of its sharp edge.
The atmosphere instantly became a tense standoff.
Wilder's face turned to ice. A chilling killing intent emanated from him, drifting through the street and washing over the men. A rookie Marine couldn't help but take a step back. The others also gritted their teeth and swallowed hard, on high alert.
"So this is Wilder? What terrifying pressure."
"I feel like… I can't move my feet."
"Dammit! Hold your ground! If we can't even withstand his presence, how can we talk about fighting?"
The surrounding Marines muttered to themselves through gritted teeth, struggling to endure the oppressive, cold aura radiating from Wilder.
"Tch!" The Vice Admiral's face was now incredibly ugly. He was just about to draw his sword to break the pressure Wilder was putting on his men when Wilder's eyes snapped open. His gaze fell upon him, and in an instant, the Vice Admiral's entire body went rigid.
What… what kind of gaze is that… The Vice Admiral's pupils contracted, and his breathing fell into disarray for a moment. Those eyes were like those of a cold-blooded viper, giving one the feeling of being on the verge of being swallowed whole. They carried a fatal, oppressive force that could overwhelm one's mind.
Bello-bello-bello…
Bello-bello-bello…
The ringing of a Den Den Mushi broke the heavy, oppressive atmosphere. Wilder raised an eyebrow and slowly retracted his killing intent, looking at the Vice Admiral.
In that instant, everyone felt a sense of relief, as if after a great exertion. It was only then that they realized their backs were soaked with sweat.
Bello-bello-bello…
Click! The Vice Admiral, still watching Wilder warily, took out the Den Den Mushi and answered it.
The Den Den Mushi's voice was not quiet. Wilder could clearly hear Kizaru's voice coming from it. "Vice Admiral Rauski, stand down from your current mission and return to headquarters. You have a new assignment. I'll handle this matter. You can bring your men back. Hmm… Wilder-kun is right there with you, isn't he? If it's convenient, hand the Den Den Mushi to him. I'll talk to him."
Hearing this, Vice Admiral Rauski grew anxious. "But—"
"No buts. This is a decision from headquarters, Vice Admiral Rauski," Kizaru interrupted him, his tone flat.
"Yes, sir." Rauski clenched his fist in frustration and silently handed the Den Den Mushi to Wilder.
Wilder reached out and took it, a broad smile spreading across his face. To Rauski, that smile looked like a mockery. He gritted his teeth again, snorted coldly, and turned away. "You can keep the Den Den Mushi. I'll cancel the number. Back to headquarters!"
With a wave of his hand, the Marines, who had arrived with such great fanfare, departed in the same manner.
After that, Wilder spoke with Kizaru for a while. As the night grew deeper, Wilder tossed the Den Den Mushi in the air, caught it, tossed it again, caught it again, and then crushed it in his hand!
"Keeping something that belongs to the Marines will only bring trouble," he said, as if finding a good reason for destroying the cute little creature. He then took out his own Den Den Mushi and dialed Claire's number. "Bring some people over. Prepare to take over the back garden. The coordinates are…"
After hanging up, Wilder was all smiles. This had been a huge haul. Not only the wealth on the island, but the island itself now belonged to him. His conversation with Kizaru hadn't required him to give up anything in exchange for all this, which was something he had never intended to do in the first place. What was his, was his. It didn't matter who came. Unless… Kizaru or Akainu personally held a blade to his neck. Then, perhaps, he would choose to compromise.
And Kizaru hadn't come with the intention of gaining anything. To be honest, the Marines weren't short on these things. Compared to the benefits of cooperating with Wilder, these things were worthless. It was that Vice Admiral Rauski who had been playing a good hand, trying to profit from the situation for his own personal gain. Perhaps this was one of the downsides of the World Military Draft? People were complicated.
With this matter resolved, Wilder wouldn't be staying here. Claire, upon receiving his call, immediately gathered people to come and take over the island. In the end, the total profit, converted to belly, was 3.5 billion. This sum would once again greatly alleviate the financial pressure on Morass.
Of course, Wilder didn't dwell on this too much. His main goal now was reform. After returning to Morass, the Grand Tournament continued for several more days before a final result was determined.
The senior cadres had not disappointed Wilder; none of them had been demoted. As for the regular cadres, a few promising seeds had emerged, showing the initial potential to be trained as senior cadres.
With the tournament over, rewards were given and punishments were meted out. Soon after, Wilder once again summoned everyone for a meeting.
Wilder had been planning the reforms for a long time, but the others were still unaware of his intentions. These matters were related to the future development of Morass, and even to trade with the outside world. Wilder had to be cautious.
Other than the few people from the Talent Development Department, even Claire only had a vague idea of what was happening.
The tournament was the vanguard of the reforms, meant to get them used to the idea. The rewards and punishments were one manifestation of this. But to expect these rough brutes, who only knew how to fight, to see through to that was asking too much of them.
Early in the morning, sunlight streamed in through the palace windows, casting a golden sheen across the grand hall. The heads and cadres of all departments were gathered here.
At a massive conference table sat six people. They were the six department heads from the Talent Development Department. In the center sat Wilder, dressed in imposing formal attire. His sharp gaze swept over the crowd, and he got straight to the point:
"I declare that we will begin trading with the outside world."
His words were like a giant boulder dropped into a calm lake. The entire hall erupted. The department heads' faces were filled with shock, not understanding why such a hasty decision had been made so suddenly. With Big Mom lurking outside, this was not a wise time to open up for trade.
The cadres' reactions and thoughts were much simpler. In contrast to the quiet shock of the department heads, the cadres were silent for a moment, and then erupted in excited cheers. "Alright! Hahaha! It's about time! At worst, we'll just fight it out with that Big Mom hag! Trade! We must trade!"
"Hahaha! His Majesty is mighty! The boss is mighty!"
Among them, Vice laughed the loudest. Although he wasn't brainless, he much preferred this kind of direct approach.
"Quiet!"
The crowd gradually fell silent. The cadres all looked at Wilder with eyes full of excitement and anticipation.
"To trade, we first need a reform. In other words… a change!"