Inside the cavern.
Jin and Gal Dino stood facing each other.
At first, Jin's intention had been to negotiate. But the moment he laid eyes on Gal Dino, inspiration struck him like lightning. A mischievous idea blossomed in his mind.
Jin let out a cold chuckle. "Have you forgotten the rules? You should know better than to inquire about other members' affairs."
Gal Dino stiffened. Could it be true? Was this really one of the boss's agents? And so quickly? Doubt still lingered, but the man's tone rattled him.
Jin leapt lightly from the window ledge and landed with a calm swagger. "I'll tell you this much, Mr. 3. I am the boss's closest friend. My codename is Mr. Kite. My duty is to watch over all agents, including you, and to handle… special matters."
"My rank lies above the chief commander. I am not part of the numbered sequence. I am the phantom."
"In this organization, my authority is second only to Mr. 0 himself. The reason you've never heard of me is simple—I only appear during missions tied to our greatest undertaking… the Ideal Nation Project."
Gal Dino's eyes widened, the suspicion melting away into shock.
The Ideal Nation Project…
It was the ultimate objective of Baroque Works, to take over Alabasta and claim the ancient weapon Pluton. Only a tiny handful of high-ranking members had ever heard of it. Even he had only been told after earning the title of Mr. 3.
The structure of Baroque Works was fragmented, deliberately cloaked in secrecy. Even insiders knew little of the boss, and most codenames were kept hidden from each other.
Yet this man before him spoke with ease, as though he was intimately familiar with the deepest secrets. His words dripped with authority. Gal Dino found it impossible to doubt.
Even more, the stranger had called him "Mr. 3" directly. Gal Dino had been promoted only last year. Few even knew of his new title. How could an outsider possibly guess?
What he didn't realize was that his distinctive hairstyle—the wax topknot shaped into a bold "3"—had betrayed him.
The wax knot shifted shape with his emotions: turning into exclamation marks when startled, question marks when puzzled. His "3" proclaimed his identity as clearly as a banner.
Gal Dino swallowed. "Then… Mr. Kite, what brings you here? Are you here to replace me?"
Jin shook his head. "No. I have another mission. Classified. But I will need your cooperation."
After a barrage of smooth lies and authoritative tone…
Gal Dino caved.
He believed it.
It was not that Gal Dino was a fool. Rather, who on earth would imagine that someone utterly outside Baroque Works could know so much about its secrets and weave such a flawless deception?
Jin's occasional hints—bits of information that Gal Dino himself had only half-heard—were enough to crush his doubts. Faced with a stranger who seemed to know the deepest corners of his world, Gal Dino could only accept.
If someone told you the exact placement of a birthmark on your lover's body, would you not believe they were intimately connected?
And most importantly—by believing, Gal Dino freed himself from the looming specter of failure. His mission's collapse was no longer his fault. This "Mr. Kite" would take the blame.
His respect, even fear, for the boss did the rest. Even if doubts remained, Gal Dino forced himself to accept. To push back, to ask questions, would be disaster.
So the matter was settled. Everything could remain calm. His life and position, preserved.
If he pursued the truth, he risked destruction.
And Gal Dino knew very well which choice benefited him.
With Gal Dino handled, the Fire Kingdom was now firmly under Jin's control. In the short term, there would be no further trouble.
Jin lingered on Claw Island for two more days.
On one front, he finalized negotiations with the Fire Kingdom's king, signing trade agreements that cemented their partnership. On the other, he trained and exchanged knowledge with Captain Sherlock—testing martial skills, discussing intelligence on the surrounding seas, and poring over the captain's navigational log.
Years of experience at sea had filled Sherlock's hand-drawn maps with countless details.
"The Grand Line is unlike the four blues," Sherlock explained with the pride of a seasoned sailor. "The magnetic fields are chaotic. No map alone can guide a voyage."
"In the first half of the Grand Line, there are seven distinct routes that all lead to the Sabaody Archipelago."
"Once you choose your starting point, you must record the magnetic field of each island as you go. That is the only way to move forward. The routes cannot be freely changed. Unless, of course, you possess a permanent log pose for your destination."
"But!" His chest swelled with pride.
"I have sailed these waters for years. With memory, experience, and maps, I can find most of the islands without fail."
Jin had no reason to doubt him. The Grand Line's weather might twist and churn with madness, but the islands themselves never moved. Veterans could indeed learn the paths by heart.
Sherlock, having slain his brother and been publicly acknowledged by the king, had been washed clean of his sins and appointed as the kingdom's new Minister of Finance.
His crew, once pirates, now donned uniforms as the royal guard.
As a token of gratitude, Sherlock presented Jin with his most precious treasures: his sea charts and logbooks.
Jin accepted them with delight.
For Sherlock, the age of piracy was over. For Jin, his voyage was only beginning. Charts and logs were exactly what he needed to fill his archives.
Even some of Sherlock's old crew, still dreaming of the sea, defected to Jin's side. These were seasoned sailors, brimming with knowledge, ideal for training the green recruits of the Winterhan Kingdom.
….
Two days later.
Jin's ships returned to Drum Island, their holds heavy with vegetables, fruit, and a cache of weapons purchased from the Fire Kingdom.
"The King has returned!"
"My heavens, look at all those fruits!"
"Did the ice mushrooms sell?!"
On the docks, villagers gathered in excitement, chattering, their faces lit with hope. The miraculous ice mushrooms the new king had cultivated… had they truly sold for such profit?
In that instant, the air in the town transformed.
Where once there had been weariness and despair, now there was energy. A sense of future. The people's spirits blazed anew.
Dalton exhaled in relief. Everything had gone smoothly. His decision back then… had been the right one after all.
…
Inside the great hall of the carrier-ship palace, Jin convened a meeting.
Those in attendance were: Dalton, the administrative officer; the mayors of the six towns; Jason, captain of the patrols; Razor Dam; and Wilson, helmsman of the Vulture Pirates.
Though called a meeting, it was in truth little more than Jin issuing directives. With the Fire Kingdom's market secured, he now turned his gaze toward the kingdom's next steps.
"Dalton, write this down," Jin commanded. "Families that cultivate and harvest ice mushrooms will be allotted a share of the vegetables and fruits, proportionate to their harvest. The remainder shall be sold at a standard price. In addition, citizens who have contributed to the kingdom will be able to redeem benefits each month with their Merit Coupons."
"Merit Coupons?" Dalton frowned in confusion.
Jin smiled. "Yes. A new form of currency issued solely within the Winterhan Kingdom. They can be used for trade."
From his sleeve, he produced a slip of paper—similar in size to a Berry note. On one side was the image of the carrier-ship, on the other, his own portrait.
It was a simple prototype, printed by little Ai on the ship's printer, with basic measures against forgery.
Jin, in building his model carrier, had gathered blueprints and diagrams, printed and copied. The workroom contained a printer, notebooks, tools—it was nothing unusual.
"Your salaries will be paid in these coupons. With them you can buy vegetables, fruit, weapons, anything needed. Citizens who contribute to the Winterhan Kingdom will also be rewarded with coupons. And if one wishes, ten Berries can be exchanged for one coupon."
"I call this the Winterhan Kingdom Merit Coupon Act."
Jason and the others exchanged looks, surprised. Was this not simply another kind of Berry? Did it truly differ?
Perhaps not much.
But if it made no difference to their own livelihoods, why resist?
Jin, however, was smiling faintly.
He understood well: the World Government held dominion over the seas because it commanded four great forms of hegemony.
First, military power. The Marines, the Cipher Pol organizations, the Holy Knights—forces unmatched in strength.
Second, cultural power. The notion that the Celestial Dragons were divine, untouchable, superior—that was cultural dominance shaping the hearts of men.
Third, technological power. The government stifled innovation among the nations while secretly advancing their own research—steam-powered warships, laser weaponry, seastone technology—tools to crush resistance before it could rise.
And fourth… financial power.
The world currency, the Berry, silently chained the global economy. The most insidious power of all, almost invisible, yet deeply controlling.
To break their rule, it was not enough to topple the Celestial Dragons by force of arms.
One had to challenge every form of their hegemony.
And Jin had already taken his first step.