Night had fallen over Kalmar City. Dennis, the city sheriff, stood by the window, peering at the brightly lit mansion not far away.
Seated on a sofa behind him was Thomason, his trusted assistant and close friend, who had once been a bounty hunter.
Back when Navia Kingdom's strongest warrior, Andre, was murdered, it was Thomason's sharp instincts and experience that outlined the characteristics of the killer. Dennis, following those leads, discovered that the culprit was one of William's subordinates. The realization had terrified him. Yet, in the end, it was Dampier, who is now William's chief strategist, who persuaded Dennis to join William's side.
Without an official title, Thomason, who now served more as Dennis's personal advisor, naturally followed suit in pledging loyalty to William.
The city had grown increasingly chaotic. The slums had long been plagued by chronic lawlessness, but now even the middle-class districts were deteriorating due to the burdens of the wall tax. Crime rates were climbing. Even the noble district, once a bastion of order, had become a place of unease thanks to Kuro and his investigative bureau.
To ensure safety, Dennis had invited Thomason and his family to live in his manor, where Thomason provided protection for both families.
"How's it looking?" Thomason asked.
Dennis sighed. "Another one." He released the curtain, unwilling to watch as agents from the investigative bureau dragged yet another noble out of the mansion like a dead dog.
While Dennis felt a sense of shared sorrow seeing fellow nobles fall, Thomason, being of a vastly different background, felt nothing at all.
"And him..." Thomason gestured toward the docks with a slight nod. "I heard he's back. Do you know where he stands now?"
"He came ashore this morning," Dennis replied, sighing again. "First, he met with Count Rielde, the Minister of Internal Affairs. Then, in the afternoon, he met with Count Arcadio, the Minister of Finance. After that, he returned to the military camp near the docks. It seems his stance is still undecided."
"He's waiting to see who offers the better deal," Thomason said with a smirk. "Right now, both Arcadio and Rielde need his support. Rielde has the numbers, including some military backing. If Arcadio wants to eliminate Rielde, he'll need the militia's help. On the other hand, if Rielde wants to take down Arcadio, he can't risk doing so without Stolt's approval—otherwise, he'll have to fear retaliation from the militia."
"Is Stolt and his militia really that important?" Dennis asked, skeptical.
Thomason grinned. "Of course. Stolt commands the strongest military force in this city. In the past, he stayed in the shadows because the royal court still managed to maintain some semblance of harmony. You know as well as I do—our captain's origins are a bit... questionable. If he were to use brute force to suppress the kingdom's upper echelons, it would likely draw the attention of the World Government and the Marines, even sparking their intervention. But now, whether Arcadio eliminates Rielde or vice versa, Stolt will have a legitimate excuse to deploy his forces against the survivors. So, tell me—do you think others need to win him over? Or, more accurately, keep him appeased?"
The rigid class system had led to a society where advancement depended solely on birth rather than merit. The insular culture of the nobility bred limited vision and understanding.
Norton I, the king, had scarcely left the royal palace in his entire life. How much better could the nobles within the capital be?
Thomason, having traveled extensively as a bounty hunter and encountered all sorts of people, naturally possessed a broader perspective than Dennis or the nobles.
The nobles, whose wealth and status were derived from the social order maintained by the World Government, naturally believed that this order was absolute and inviolable.
But Thomason knew better. The foundation of this order was the World Government's military power. In this world, strength was the ultimate currency—the key to securing wealth and status.
This was why Thomason was even more proactive than Dennis in working for William. His confidence in William's eventual rise was unshakable.
William already had the strength; all he lacked was legitimacy. And now, even that was within reach. To Thomason, William's ascension was only a matter of time. When that time came, both he and Dennis would undoubtedly benefit.
...
At the military camp near the docks, William was inspecting the night watch, his hands clasped behind his back.
Among the many things William appreciated about his current body, one of the most satisfying was its boundless energy. As someone obsessed with power and control, he preferred to personally oversee everything and was reluctant to delegate authority. Achieving this required a body capable of enduring such demands.
After enduring the rough seas aboard a clipper ship—a vessel far from comfortable—William had spent the morning meeting with Count Rielde and Count Arcadio. In the evening, he trained with the young recruits in the camp. Now, late at night, he was making his rounds through the camp, inspecting each post and even performing the occasional "tucking in the troops" routine.
From morning to night, he showed no signs of fatigue, neither physically nor mentally.
"What did Rielde and Arcadio say?" Sherlock, walking half a step behind William, asked.
"Rielde's side was disappointing," William said, shaking his head. "Maybe they haven't adjusted to our new dynamic yet. All they gave me was a bunch of useless drivel. On the other hand, our Minister of Finance is a sharp one. When I asked for military command and a noble title, he agreed without hesitation. I suppose he already heard about my earlier visit to Rielde's estate."
As they reached the western corner of the camp, a youthful voice suddenly called out from the shadows, "Password!"
"Honor," William replied impassively.
"Glory." Two young recruits emerged from different hiding spots. Upon recognizing William, they quickly saluted.
William returned the salute, exchanged a few words with the recruits, inspected their post, and then moved on.
"So, does that mean you've decided to side with Arcadio?" Sherlock asked, adjusting his glasses. "Won't you reconsider negotiating with Rielde's faction?"
"I'll meet with them a couple more times for appearances' sake, but that's it. Rielde and his lot are just bargaining chips to me. Do you really think I'd side with them? I personally dealt with both Barbarossa and Roy—why would I leave Arcadio, the mastermind, to someone else?" William sneered. "That old fox Arcadio agreed to my demands so readily, though. It's a little suspicious."
Sherlock pondered for a moment. "Could he actually be planning to usurp the throne?"
"Who knows?" William said nonchalantly. "If Kuro and I were truly loyal to him, he'd have a decent shot at it. But even if he does seize the throne, so what? You haven't met his son, Aureliano. That useless fool can't even win people over. Dennis was practically driven into my arms because of him. Arcadio's already so old—he won't last much longer. When he passes the throne to his only son, won't it just be taken away again?"
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