Flevance, known as the White Town, wasn't particularly large in size.
Yet thanks to the immense profits from Platinum Lead, even the poorest families lived comfortably without financial worries.
Such a prosperous nation naturally could afford the Celestial Tribute and joined the World Government.
However, the two neighboring countries adjacent to Flevance weren't member states.
"The Visa Kingdom and Lia Kingdom could afford the Celestial Tribute—they just chose not to pay it."
"What do you mean?"
Dier frowned at the voice coming through the Den Den Mushi. To understand his destination better, he'd dug out the communication device and consulted a well-informed old King.
But the information surprised him.
Non-member states had no rights whatsoever—World Government laws didn't protect them.
Even if pirates invaded, no Marines would come to their aid.
Some particularly unscrupulous Marines might even exploit them.
Thus, most countries squeezed their citizens dry to scrape together the Celestial Tribute and join.
Yet the Visa Kingdom and Lia Kingdom, despite having the means, refused to pay.
"The Visa Kingdom, Lia Kingdom, and Flevance are interconnected—like a long jam sandwich. Visa's on the left, Lia's on the right, and tiny Flevance sits in the middle."
"Not far from these three nations lies a Marine base."
"Every year, Visa and Lia pay protection money to the base in exchange for Marine protection."
"They also pay Flevance a separate sum to prevent Flevance from invading them."
"While substantial, both payments combined are still cheaper than the Celestial Tribute."
At this point, the old King chuckled wryly:
"Heh... Visa and Lia are quite proud of this arrangement."
"They call it a triple win."
"They spend only a fraction to receive Marine protection equivalent to member states."
"Flevance earns extra income from annual protection fees."
"And the Marine base profits doubly—every deployment uses 'protecting member state Flevance' as justification, with all combat losses reimbursed by Headquarters, while still collecting protection money from Visa and Lia."
Dier nodded. A true triple win where everyone benefited.
So who lost?
The World Government?
They'd probably known about this scheme for ages but couldn't be bothered to intervene.
Dier couldn't care less about their three-way arrangement either.
"Where near these three countries can I purchase a complete Video Den Den Mushi set?"
Video Den Den Mushi typically came in sets—one large Den Den Mushi paired with multiple smaller ones.
The small ones handled recording while the large one projected the footage.
During the Summit War, Buggy had used small Den Den Mushi to transmit images to large ones on Sabaody Archipelago for live broadcasting.
The large projection Den Den Mushi could simultaneously receive signals from multiple small ones.
This same principle powered Impel Down's surveillance room.
"One moment."
Rustling paper sounds came through the receiver as Dier waited silently.
These specialized Den Den Mushi were expensive and rare—hardly available in ordinary places—so the old King needed time to gather intel.
"Found it!"
The sound of flipping pages ceased as the old King's voice spoke again:
"Head due east from Flevance for about three days to reach Brulbule Island. There's a Den Den Mushi specialty shop there that supposedly sells every type of Den Den Mushi."
Every type? Even Golden Den Den Mushi?
But that was impossible to imagine, since Golden Den Den Mushi represented the Buster Call.
"Alright, contact the printing press again. We'll use it for printing comics soon."
Click~
The call ended.
Stretching lazily on the sunlit deck, Dier dialed another number.
Nearly all the abilities he'd mastered so far could be activated instantly without any wind-up.
He wanted to experiment whether adding restrictions to weaken an ability's power might allow him to acquire it faster.
"Take down this message and circulate it to the others in town later."
Dier pulled out a note and read aloud:
"When Kali Dier has basked in sunlight for three hours during daytime, eaten three apples and five bananas, done one hundred push-ups, one hundred squats, and one hundred sit-ups, then between midnight and 1 AM under moonlight, after drinking a bottle of milk, he can cut his palm and stand upside-down barefoot on the deck to grant ships self-repair capabilities."
The sound of hurried scribbling came through the receiver.
Only after the person finished recording did Dier make another call.
He currently controlled about eight hundred people.
These individuals were scattered across various islands, with some aboard merchant or passenger ships at sea.
His Mind Communication couldn't reach that far, forcing him to notify them through individual calls.
He'd even compiled a phone directory for this purpose.
After the final call, he exhaled deeply and took a swig of milk to soothe his throat.
With so many restrictions combined, the ability's strength shouldn't be too high.
If all went well, once these people notified others under his control, he could acquire this heavily restricted ability.
He lounged on the deck sunbathing as the Sea Gull's sails billowed, propelling the ship forward.
Having a submarine didn't mean staying submerged constantly.
The diving function was mainly for evading pursuit.
All three of them had taken turns test-piloting earlier, surfacing after confirming basic operational competence.
With no other ships visible on the horizon, diving was unnecessary.
Robin struggled over carrying a huge pot of seafood fried rice, clanking it onto the deck.
"We need to recruit more crew," she panted, composing herself.
"Just the three of us isn't sustainable."
Excluding five-year-old Perona, the ship only had three able-bodied workers.
Hina remained stationed in the operations room for emergencies.
Dier sunbathed while planning future schedules.
Robin, with her Flower-Flower Fruit abilities, became the busiest—cooking, delivering meals, and entertaining Perona.
"And we need night watchmen. We can't possibly send Perona, right?"
Handing Dier a large spoon, she listed the ship's staffing needs:
"Deck cleaning—we must remove seawater residue after every surfacing;
A proper cook—you don't want to eat giant pots of fried rice daily, do you?
And we can't keep having me double as navigator, can we?"
"More capable shoulders bear heavier loads."
Dier gave an awkward smile.
This was indeed his oversight.
Although the Petrel had a high degree of automation, the accumulation of miscellaneous tasks could still keep someone as busy as a spinning top.
Previously, he hadn't needed to manage these matters, so he'd never really considered them.
Moreover, he remembered that Law didn't have many crew members either, which was why he thought three people might barely suffice.
The reality proved otherwise, but it wasn't too late.
"We'll dock at an island tomorrow for a day and recruit some hands for odd jobs.
As for formal crew members... we already have a target for the ship's doctor