At the Black Serpent Merchant Guild headquarters, Marines stood rigidly flanking the main entrance, casting a stern atmosphere over the surrounding street.
"Isn't that the Black Serpent Merchant Guild? Why are Marines standing guard outside?"
A few passing civilians glanced over, murmuring amongst themselves as they walked away.
"The Black Serpent Guild must've committed some crime."
One of them stated this with certainty.
"Bullshit! What do you know?! The boss of the Black Serpent Guild isn't just anybody! Do you even know who visited this time?"
"Who?"
"Vice Admiral Momonga from Marine Headquarters!"
"No way! Why would someone that important come to a place like this? Even if the Black Serpent Guild is powerful, they wouldn't warrant that kind of attention, right!?"
"And that's why you're clueless! Let me tell you, my cousin works for the Black Serpent Guild. Keep this under your hats, alright? Do you know who the boss is?"
"Who?" His companions leaned in, curiosity piqued.
The man glanced around furtively, craning his neck, before whispering, "They say… it's that guy…"
"..."
"So, which guy?"
"What's-his-name… something-De, I think? Heh, I forgot!"
"Get outta here!"
The group continued on their way, fading into the distance.
Inside the Guild headquarters, Wilder and Momonga sat facing each other in armchairs, separated by a table. Claire stood behind Wilder; two Marine aides stood behind Momonga. Two glasses filled with red wine rested silently on the table.
Momonga didn't look pleased. He leaned back against the chair, body ramrod straight, his longsword placed beside him. His hands were crossed over his chest, a vein pulsing faintly on his forehead. His signature mustache twitched slightly before his sharp eyes finally turned to Wilder. "Well? Have you decided?"
"Of course," Wilder replied, his expression serious. He picked up his glass, took a sip, then leaned back, draping his arms over the top of the sofa's backrest. "Let's talk terms and the duties both sides must fulfill."
"It's all here. See for yourself." Momonga retrieved a sealed stack of documents from within his coat and tossed it onto the table. "Honestly, there isn't much to read. After becoming a Warlord, you are prohibited from engaging in any further criminal activities. Violators will be stripped of their Warlord status. Additionally, you must unconditionally accept emergency summons from the World Government and Marine Headquarters. Beyond that, attendance is mandatory at major meetings requiring Warlord participation. You'll be notified separately about those." Momonga sat perfectly straight, his expression having returned to calm neutrality.
"Nyahahaha! I trust you, Vice Admiral Momonga. I hope that, going forward, we can be… good colleagues, just like before. So… here's to pleasant cooperation!" Wilder flashed a broad smile, masking his true thoughts, and extended his hand towards Momonga.
"Frankly, I have no desire to shake your hand. Or any other… thief's hand, for that matter," Momonga stated coldly, but nevertheless extended his own hand and grasped Wilder's.
"Nyahahaha! I'm no thief, Vice Admiral. Careful what you say. Who knows, maybe one day your words will annoy me so much I decide to blow up Marine Headquarters… Nyahahaha!" Wilder roared with laughter, though his eyes held absolutely no trace of amusement.
"Is that so? Let's hope that day never comes," Momonga replied evenly. He turned and walked towards the door, his aides quickly falling in step behind him.
"Report to Marine Headquarters in one week to exchange the contracts," Momonga's voice drifted back as he neared the exit.
"Well then… safe travels, Vice Admiral Momonga…" Wilder murmured, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
After leaving, Momonga didn't linger for a moment, heading straight back to Marine Headquarters to report the mission's outcome to his superior, Admiral Kizaru.
"Ooh… so he didn't choose to sail the seas? Hiding out in the East Blue instead, hmm? Such a clever fellow," Kizaru drawled, sipping his tea. He slowly put the cup down. "My warship got destroyed, did it…? What a pain! But the man's already agreed to become a Warlord, hasn't he? Makes things tricky. Right, Momonga?"
Seated opposite him, Momonga's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. His gaze remained calm. "It is… tricky."
"Then it's decided. Any thoughts on confirming Wilder to fill the vacant Warlord position?"
"..."
You already said it's decided, so what the hell are we supposed to say!? Numerous officers screamed internally.
"Since there are no objections… let's put it in the papers. Confirm Lucifer Wilder as the new Warlord of the Sea," Kizaru declared, taking another sip of tea, his glasses catching the light as he glanced over the assembled officers.
A ripple of surprise went through the room. Officers exchanged glances, brows furrowing.
"So quickly? Shouldn't we wait until he's signed the contract before publishing it?"
"The seas are turbulent these days… Besides," Kizaru drawled, a glint of gold flashing behind his lenses as he smacked his lips lightly, "once it's published… that fellow won't have much choice, will he? Backing out isn't something the Marines would permit, ah."
"In other words, the plan is to use Wilder to help suppress the chaos on the seas? Is that man even capable of it?" one of the Vice Admirals frowned, sounding unconvinced.
"Don't forget, that man broke out a batch of prisoners from Impel Down's Level 5. That's not an insignificant force he commands now," Kizaru countered, glancing at the skeptical officer. "As for suppressing the seas entirely, he certainly can't do that. But he can at least play some role, can't he?"
"Alright, if that's the case, I have no objections. Let's proceed as decided."
"Ooh… very well then, publish the news. Captain, relay the notice. And contact Morgans while you're at it."
"Sir!"
Soon, Marine Headquarters began preparations concerning the appointment of Wilder as the new Warlord. "Big News" Morgans also mobilized his company to start printing the relevant newspapers.
The seeds of a hurricane were being sown across the seas. Wilder and his crew remained oblivious that news about him was about to sweep across the entire world.
Early the next morning, Wilder, still deep in sleep, suddenly felt a heavy weight pressing down on him.
The hairs on his body stood on end. He snapped his eyes open, killing intent flaring, only for it to instantly dissolve into bewilderment.
Claire lay curled up on top of him like a kitten, fast asleep. Her eyes were tightly closed, her long eyelashes upturned. Her long, slender legs were bare, her skin fair and smooth. The lace strap of her sleepwear had slipped down her delicate shoulder, revealing the soft skin beneath.
The… soul-stirring curves pressed against Wilder's chest sent a wave of heat rushing through his entire body.
Taking a deep breath, Wilder closed his eyes, then opened them again. Gently, he eased Claire off him, stood up, and got dressed.
"Mmm… Boss…" Claire's eyes fluttered open. She rubbed them sleepily and looked towards Wilder standing beside the bed.
"Ah!!!" A moment later, Claire's shriek echoed through the room!
For the entire morning, Claire's face remained crimson, like a perfectly ripe apple – cute… and somehow even more delectable. She couldn't bring herself to meet Wilder's gaze.
Around noon, Ashin, having just returned from outside, silently handed Wilder a newspaper, his expression impassive as always.
A single, striking headline leaped out at Wilder, making his pupils flicker.
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