As Rosinante stepped into the courtyard, he was immediately greeted by a small training arena. Lining either side of the space were two weapon racks, each bristling with a variety of arms.
Beside the racks were training tools—barbells for strength, pull-up bars, and more. Beyond the training area lay the living quarters. The compound consisted of eight rooms: Sengoku's master bedroom, Kalit's side room, four guest rooms, a study, and a kitchen. This was the entire estate of a Marine Admiral.
Upon entering the house, Rosinante found its interior to be strikingly modest. Apart from a bed, each room had only a wooden table set with a tea set.
All four guest rooms were identically furnished. Sengoku's room, though also plain, had a few potted plants and several books, distinguishing it slightly.
Kalit's quarters were similarly sparse, but his walls displayed several Japanese katanas—blades seized over the years during pirate suppression campaigns alongside Admiral Sengoku. Kalit himself was also a formidable swordsman.
Aside from the bedrooms, the only other room was the kitchen. But after a quick glance around, Rosinante realized not even a single pot could be found—kitchen was in name only, practically an empty shell.
"We usually eat at the main base mess hall, so…" Kalit offered a half-smile.
Rosinante understood immediately. No one cooked here, so naturally, the kitchen was just for show.
"Wait… isn't my dad an Admiral?" Rosinante asked, puzzled. "He doesn't have any servants or a cook?"
Kalit shrugged. "You think Admiral Sengoku's a Celestial Dragon or something?"
"Servants? Cooks? He wouldn't even use them if he had them. And besides, neither of us has any living family left. Until you came along, it was just the two of us living here."
"Then… what about cleaning?"
"Don't worry. Marines on duty come in weekly to take care of that." Kalit reassured him.
Rosinante glanced around at the worn-out furniture and broken glass on a distant window. "Uncle Kalit," he asked, "my dad's salary should be pretty decent, right? Why hasn't he even fixed that window?"
Kalit gave a long sigh. "He does get paid well. But Admiral Sengoku barely touches his wages. He donates nearly all of it to the Marine Relief Fund, to support the families of soldiers who've died or been disabled in action."
"Wait, the Marine Relief Fund? Isn't that something the World Government should be paying for?" Rosinante asked, confused. "They're the ones the Marines serve under. Why does it need private donations?"
Kalit's smile turned bitter. "The World Government? They probably don't even know the fund exists. In the past, when Marines died or were crippled during missions, the Government wouldn't lift a finger. Sengoku couldn't stand it. When he became Admiral, he got permission from Fleet Admiral Kong to establish the Marine Relief Fund in the name of justice. He rallied donations from across the ranks."
"Every year, Admiral Sengoku and Vice Admiral Garp donate their entire salaries. Fleet Admiral Kong contributes half. Chief Strategist Tsuru donates half as well. Former Admiral Z? Sixty percent. Vice Admirals contribute ten percent, Rear Admirals five. Officers below that level aren't required to donate—but many still do, voluntarily."
"That's the only reason the Relief Fund is still operating. But with the number of wounded and fallen increasing each year, these donations are just a drop in the ocean."
Rosinante fell silent for a moment. "Shouldn't this responsibility fall on the World Government? Not the Marines themselves. Fleet Admiral Kong should've reported this to them."
"Reported? Don't be naïve." Kalit said coldly. "The World Government wouldn't give a single beri. Every year, their funding for the Marines is calculated to the decimal—just enough to keep us barely functioning. The truth is, they've never trusted us. They restrict us in every possible way. If not for the rising threat of pirates, they'd have cut our numbers long ago."
Rosinante now understood why, despite the Marines being so powerful, they were still beholden to the World Government in the original timeline.
It was all because the World Government had them by the throat, with control over the purse strings.
Some might ask: if the Marines are treated so poorly, why don't they just rebel? Why not break away and become rulers in their own right?
That question ignores three critical obstacles.
First: Righteousness. The World Government is still the world's nominal ruling power, and the Marines are sworn to uphold it. If their leaders tried to declare independence, it would shatter the faith of their troops. Who would they be loyal to then?
A military without faith is a military without unity or strength. Marines can shout "For Justice!" when fighting pirates, but would they still feel just if they broke away from the established order?
Second: Funding. Once the Marines go rogue, the Government will immediately cut off all financial support. How would they feed such a massive organization? Tax the citizens like pirates? That would destroy their moral foundation and cripple morale. The very idea of justice they stand for would collapse.
Third: Enemies. The World Government isn't defenseless. Its hidden forces go far beyond the Marines. CP0 is just one of the secret organizations in its arsenal. And if the Marines rebel, the Government will unleash them all.
At the same time, the pirates long suppressed by the Marines may seize the opportunity to strike from the rear. Surrounded on all sides, even the mighty Navy could be torn apart.
So the Marines can't rebel, even if they want to.
Rosinante now understood: if he wanted to change the world using the Marines as a foundation, he would need to solve these three core problems:
Restore the Marines' belief in a justice beyond the World Government.
Establish a stable financial system independent of Government support.
Gather allies strong enough to help challenge the World Government.
None of these tasks would be easy. But Rosinante wasn't daunted, he already had a few ideas of his own.
(End of Chapter)
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