Two weeks later — November 13th, 1519.
Organ Islands, Wayne Group Headquarters.
In just a few weeks, the face of the Organ Islands had been transformed.
The Wayne Group had set into motion a massive construction project, drawing in hundreds of laborers and craftsmen. What began as scattered scaffolding and the pouring of raw cement soon grew into something the islanders had never imagined.
At the edge of town, where once there had been little more than rocky soil and windblown grass, a towering structure now rose skyward. A miniature skyscraper, foreign in design, alien in presence shined under the sun, its steel beams and concrete foundation unlike anything the East Blue had ever seen.
But the ambitions of the Wayne Group did not stop at a single building. Roads of clean-cut concrete stretched outward like roots, sidewalks carefully tiled with imported stone. Street lamps, archways, and utility structures appeared one after another, until the outskirts of Organ Islands resembled not a backwater East Blue town but a slice of a modern city transplanted into another age.
…
Flashback…
Wayne Group Tavern, meeting room.
The Den Den Mushi for the administration department began to ring.
Purupurupurupuru…
Sanemi reached over lazily, lifting the snail as if it were routine.
"Chairman Sanemi Wayne," he muttered in a casual, almost bored tone.
On the other end, a cough rasped through the line before an old, gravelly voice followed.
"Yes… hello, Chairman. This is Mayor Arthur, calling from the mayor's office."
Sanemi's brows arched faintly. He hadn't expected that.
"Ah, if it isn't Arthur. What a surprise," he said softly, voice smooth, almost careless. "How can I help you?"
There was a pause, then the mayor cleared his throat awkwardly before pressing forward.
"I'll get straight to it. I hope we can put aside… what happened before, and move forward. More specifically, I'd like to cooperate with you. No—" his voice faltered, "—I'd like to gain your support."
Sanemi leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the polished oval table in a slow, steady rhythm. To him, every word translated into the same thought, How can I make use of this man?
Finally, he chuckled under his breath and answered with confidence.
"Arthur… I appreciate your honesty. I really do. But if you want my support, there are a few things you'll have to do first."
Mayor Arthur hesitated on the other end of the line. The Den Den Mushi's eyes shifted nervously, mirroring him. "What… what conditions?"
Sanemi smiled faintly, though the expression never reached his eyes. His voice was calm, steady, each word deliberate.
"First… I'll need land. Not scraps, nor leftover swampland, but the kind of property where I can build something worthwhile. The outskirts will do nicely."
Arthur's voice cracked. "The… outskirts? That's several acres of open land. The townsfolk…"
"—will be employed," Sanemi cut him off smoothly. "Hundreds of laborers. Paid fairly. Roads, homes, infrastructure. Organ Islands will prosper, and everyone will praise the man who allowed it. The mayor."
The snail mirrored Arthur's gulp. "…And the second?"
Sanemi's fingers continued their rhythmic tapping on the oval table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Each sound pressed into the silence like a nail.
"Cooperation. Your office will work with my people directly. No bureaucratic delay, no extra taxes, no interference. If I say something needs to happen, it happens."
Arthur sucked in a sharp breath. "That's—"
"—how you gain my support," Sanemi interrupted again, his tone casual yet suffocating. "I don't need to remind you of the alternative, do I?"
Silence stretched through the line. Sanemi leaned back further, almost lazy, waiting.
Finally, Arthur's strained voice returned. "…If I agree, what will you give in return?"
Sanemi chuckled lightly, the sound low, dangerous.
"What I've always given, Mayor. Results. You'll have jobs for your people, new structures that raise your island above every other backwater in the East Blue. And… you'll have the Wayne Group standing behind you. When others look at Organ Islands, they won't see some forgotten rock. They'll see power."
Arthur didn't answer right away. The snail blinked nervously as though reflecting its owner's turmoil.
Then, with a resigned exhale, the mayor finally spoke.
"…Very well. You'll have what you ask for, Chairman Wayne."
Sanemi smiled at the snail, white eyes gleaming faintly under the dim tavern light.
"Good. Then consider this the beginning of a very… prosperous partnership. I expect you here tomorrow ready to sign several clauses."
Click.
The line went dead, leaving Sanemi in his own thoughts.
…
Back to the present…
Today was no ordinary day for the Organ Islands. Word had spread quickly, the Wayne Group was holding a company-wide conference. The Mayor's office had announced it days in advance, stirring excitement among the townsfolk. There would be charity, donations, and even free food for everyone.
What was meant to be a corporate gathering had transformed into a full-blown festival.
By late morning, the usually quiet harbor of Organ Islands was alive with activity. One after another, ships appeared on the horizon, their sails swelling with the sea breeze as they pulled into port. The docks, once familiar and calm, now swarmed with strangers disembarking in large groups. For the locals, it was a sight unlike anything they had seen before, people of all kinds, sharply dressed, foreign-looking, carrying themselves with purpose.
Among them was a ship a bit larger than the others.
From it descended Alfred, the current Branch Manager of Shells Town. He came not alone, but flanked by his family and a retinue of important subordinates. The moment his polished shoes touched the docks, a contingent of Wayne Group personnel was already there to receive him.
They moved with precision, dressed in tailored black suits, each marked by a stark white bat emblem spread across their backs. Their appearance was uniform, their movements disciplined, sharp contrast to the chaotic crowds of the harbor.
They weren't mere escorts. Hidden beneath the pressed fabric of their suits were flintlocks, blades, and other weapons, glimpsed only when the sunlight struck just right. Their presence carried an unspoken warning, the Wayne Group did not leave its own unguarded.
It was clear from the meticulous arrangements and heavy security that the Chairman valued Alfred's safety, and by extension, the influence his position represented.
"Greetings, Branch Manager Boyd!"
The four security guards bowed in perfect unison, their voices crisp and firm.
Alfred stood with his family and subordinates close behind, feeling slightly out of place. They weren't used to this level of attention, or the way the crowd seemed to watch their every move.
Alfred nodded politely before letting his eyes take in the harbor. At first glance, it looked ordinary enough, ships docked along the piers, crates stacked, seagulls calling overhead. But something felt… off.
Wayne Group was everywhere.
Stalls along the docks bore the white bat emblem. Boats had the same mark. Even the buildings lining the streets carried banners of black and white. The island practically screamed the name of the organization.
The people only reinforced the impression. Children waved small bat-flag paper banners. Shopkeepers leaned out of windows, smiling and nodding as Alfred passed. Some even called out greetings. It wasn't just courtesy, it was respect.
As they followed the security guards through the streets, Alfred realized just how much control the Wayne Group had here. The island didn't just host the organization, it belonged to it. Every corner, every gesture, every symbol was a reminder.
For a moment, Alfred felt the weight of it all. Not just pride or awe, but a strange mix of respect and unease. This was more than a company.. it was power made visible.
The leader of the security guards caught Alfred's slight smile and nodded, a proud glint in his eye.
"Organ Islands' pride is the Wayne Group," he said, voice steady but full of conviction. "Our salaries and benefits aren't just good—they're unheard of for this region. On top of that, the Wayne Group hires extra laborers for side projects and makes sure everyone gets paid fairly. The work ethic here, combined with the pay, is what keeps this place running. I'd bet that a third of the people you see on these streets either work for us or have some connection to the Wayne Group."
As they moved through the bustling streets, he gestured to the banners, the stalls, the docked ships, all marked with the bat emblem. His pride deepened as he continued, his tone almost reverent. "And that's all thanks to Chairman Sanemi Wayne. The Chairman's vision for business… it's unmatched. Everything you see here exists because of him."
Alfred standing amid the crowds of people who were celebrating and cheering, felt a growing respect for the man who had built it all. The Chairman.