"???"
"How much?! At least… 100 million Belly?!" Crocodile's voice trembled.
He was sure he'd misheard him.
Before he became a Warlord, his bounty was a mere 81 million.
And now, this kid was casually offering him more than his entire former bounty every single month?
This was faster than robbing a kingdom.
Hell, this was more profitable than being the Pirate King!
Who needed to search for some mythical treasure when you could just live the high life under Mike's wing?
"The minimum is 100 million," Mike said with a grin. "You're the founding members of the New Warlords. Of course, the benefits are going to be different. Mihawk here is the strongest, so he gets 500 million a month."
Mihawk merely gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, as if the staggering figure was exactly what he expected.
But the faint upward curl of his lips betrayed his inner delight.
'With this kind of money', he thought, 'I could buy a vast estate, plant the finest grapes, and build the world's greatest winery. A life of swordsmanship and fine wine… perfect.'
"Doflamingo and Crocodile, you'll each get 300 million a month," Mike continued.
"And Crocodile, you get an extra 100 million. Consider it a construction bonus for the excellent job you've been doing in Alabasta."
A glint of anticipation flashed in Mike's eyes.
"I'm looking forward to experiencing those… innovative entertainment projects… the next time I visit."
Crocodile immediately caught the implication and a knowing, manly smirk spread across his face.
He thumped his chest.
"Rest assured, Captain! I guarantee you'll feel right at home and never want to leave!"
"..."
Doflamingo reviewed the contract, his lips twitching.
He, the "JOKER" of the underworld, had seen it all.
Or so he thought.
This was a whole new level of wealth.
The annual salary for the three of them alone was over 13 billion Belly, not even counting the endless bonuses.
His old bounty was a paltry 340 million.
He'd now be earning that in a single month.
'Safe, comfortable, and getting paid to beat up Celestial Dragons?'
'Captain! From this day forward, this man will be your sharpest thread—point, and I will strike!'
As the three men solemnly signed their names on the "New Warlords of the Sea Employment Contract," Kuro entered with impeccable timing, carrying a tray with four glasses of ruby-red wine.
"I'm not the kind of person who mistreats his own," Mike said, raising his glass.
"Follow me, and you'll have meat to eat, wine to drink, and women to chase! This is what life is all about, brothers! Cheers!"
"Hmph—" Mihawk rolled his eyes at Mike's "winner in life" speech, but he couldn't hide the smile tugging at his lips.
The kid was a scoundrel, but he was a real one.
And who wouldn't want to follow a boss who was real, fun, and incredibly generous?
"Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against Mike's.
"Fufufufu, the Captain speaks the truth!" Doflamingo chuckled.
"Boss, bottoms up!" Crocodile was even more direct, the word "Boss" rolling off his tongue as if he'd been practicing it for years.
"Cheers!"
The four glasses clinked together.
Ten crates of red wine dwindled at a visible rate.
Soon, the four men, each with an arm around a beautiful woman, staggered off to their respective rooms.
The lights in the hot springs dimmed, leaving only a few warm lamps casting a soft glow, and the faint, ambiguous sounds of a night well spent.
.....
New Recruit Training Camp, Chief Instructor's Office.
"Yes, I've never forgotten your teachings," a weary but relieved voice came through the Den Den Mushi.
"New Marine—I'm in!"
"Good. Make the most of this opportunity," Zephyr responded succinctly before hanging up.
He slowly rose and walked to the window.
The night over Marineford was deep and quiet.
He felt no drowsiness; his mind was sharp, his spirit alight with a purpose he hadn't felt in years.
All the officers not aligned with the three admirals had been contacted.
Not a single one had refused.
He knew these children he had trained, knew the fires of Justice that still burned in their hearts.
"I wonder how Sakazuki and the others are doing?" he murmured.
As if on cue, the Den Den Mushi rang urgently, shattering the silence.
Brrring-brrring~
"Yes?"
"Zephyr-sensei," Akainu's firm voice came through.
"The Headquarters communications division is under our control. All communications from officers loyal to the World Government, as well as Sengoku's faction, are now being fully monitored. No one can leak information without us knowing."
"Excellent!" Zephyr shot to his feet.
The plan was progressing flawlessly.
Controlling the communications division meant they had severed the head of the old Marine from its body.
It bought them precious time.
"Inform Borsalino—begin the next phase."
....
Marine Headquarters—Communications Division Monitoring Room.
Rows upon rows of Den Den Mushi stood like silent, shelled soldiers on standby, their soft, intermittent calls merging into a faint, continuous hum.
Inside the division chief's office, the atmosphere was so tense you could wring it out like a wet towel.
The original chief—a young, ambitious Rear Admiral with piercing, hawkish eyes—now stood respectfully beside his own desk, beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
He didn't dare breathe too loudly.
Sprawled across the desk, legs crossed and holding a premium cigar "generously provided" by Mike, was Admiral Akainu.
Smoke curled around his imposing figure as he reviewed a list of Vice Admirals from his faction, his pen moving with surgical, merciless precision, marking names.
Each stroke of his pen determined a Marine's fate.
"Admiral," the young Rear Admiral ventured cautiously, his voice dry.
"As per your orders, all communication lines are now under surveillance. Any suspicious calls will be recorded and reported to you immediately."
Akainu just grunted, not bothering to look up.
"Um…" The Rear Admiral swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
He couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Admiral… should we also… monitor Fleet Admiral Sengoku?"
The order to monitor Garp, Tsuru, and Sengoku himself… it smelled of rebellion.
"..." Akainu slowly set down his pen.
He raised his head, his gaze as sharp and unforgiving as a blade, scraping across the young man's face.
"If I recall correctly, you're the youngest and fastest-promoted Rear Admiral in my faction, are you not?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"With your intelligence, you should have already guessed what we're doing."
The young Rear Admiral's heart lurched.
Of course, he'd guessed.
The Marines were about to undergo a revolution.
"So, what's your answer?" Akainu asked, sliding a contract across the desk.
"You've never disappointed me before. I hope you'll continue that trend."
The young man took the contract.
On its cover, in bold, stark letters, were the words: New Marine Employment Contract.
His heart pounded.
He was standing at a turning point in history.
Follow his idol and usher in a new era, or be crushed by the wheels of the old one.
There was no choice, really.
He picked up the pen and signed his name in swift, decisive strokes.
"Good," a rare smirk touched Akainu's lips.
He stood, his broad hand clapping the young man's shoulder.
"You—come with me to the New World."
"Yes, sir! For Justice!" the young Rear Admiral boomed, snapping a salute.
That cry of "Justice" was both a promise to Akainu and an oath to the New Marine.
A silent coup was unfolding.
Throughout the night, Marine officers who still held a flicker of true Justice in their hearts began receiving calls from Zephyr, Akainu, Kizaru, and Kuzan.
Faced with this sudden, monumental choice, they reacted in different ways—shock, confusion, hesitation.
But in the end, they all chose to join.
They saw hope!
The oaths they had taken when they first joined—"For the people! For Justice! For the peace of these seas!"—now resonated in their hearts like a great bell.
"For the New Marine, we offer—Loyalty!!!"
.....
Late at night, at the docks of Marine Headquarters.
Kizaru stood with his hands in his pockets, idly tapping the ground with the tip of his shoe as he glanced at the silent Den Den Mushi on his wrist.
"That Sakazuki… he's really taking his sweet time," he muttered. "This old man just wants to wrap this up and get back to my warm bed!"
"Buru buru… Buru buru…"
Finally, the snail rang.
"Borsalino, move out," Akainu's deep voice came through. "Headquarters has been secured. By the time Sengoku wakes up tomorrow, the world will have changed."
"Yooo~ Sakazuki, you're really fired up now, huh~" Kizaru teased.
"But why is it that you and Kuzan get to handle things remotely, while this old man has to go out in person?!"
"Hmph—" a cold snort came from the other end.
"Egghead Island is your old stomping ground. Dr. Vegapunk is your friend. His importance to the New Marine is obvious. Take the island within the hour and convince him. I'll split my bonus for this operation with you—half."
"?!"
Kizaru's eyes widened, a brilliant glint flashing within them.
'Half?!'
"Sakazuki…" Kizaru's voice suddenly became light and cheerful as his body "whooshed" into a brilliant streak of yellow light, vanishing from the docks.
His voice trailed behind him, echoing on the sea breeze.
"This old man thinks that for the future of the New Marine, such a trivial matter is hardly worth mentioning!"
He streaked across the night sky like a meteor, pushing the Glint-Glint Fruit to its absolute limit.
Before long, the futuristic silhouette of Egghead Island came into view.
He landed directly at the entrance of Vegapunk's research institute, waving a contract in his hand and shouting with glee.
"Dr. Vegapunk! Big business has arrived! A 100-billion-Belly deal—and that's just the first round of funding!"
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