[Vicious Thug Lucifer Wilder Confirmed as Warlord of the Sea!]
Like a whirlwind blasting out from Marine Headquarters, the shocking news swept across the globe, causing an immediate sensation!
[Bomber of Impel Down, Vicious Thug Lucifer Wilder, Confirmed as New Warlord Candidate!]
[Summit War Prisoner Lucifer Wilder Becomes New Warlord of the Sea! Are the Marines Heading Towards Ruin?]
Across the seas, the news of the newly appointed Warlord spread like wildfire.
"Zehahaha! This is incredible! That guy!" On an uninhabited island somewhere in the New World, Blackbeard stared at the newspaper in his hand, a savage grin spreading across his face, killing intent flashing in his eyes.
He turned to the towering Shiliew of the Rain beside him, baring his mismatched teeth. "Shiliew, I recall you mentioning you crossed paths with this fellow before?"
"Ah… years ago. He should be much stronger by now," Shiliew replied impassively, wiping down his blood-red sword. Yet, his own sharp, ruthless eyes mirrored the same murderous glint.
"Zehahaha! I can't wait for the day you two meet again! A showdown between two former Head Jailers… just thinking about it is fascinating! Zehahaha!"
"That man… I will definitely kill him," a soft, sinister voice interjected nearby. Lafitte's thin lips curled, his round eyes shot through with blood vessels.
"Zehahaha! You really hold a grudge, don't you, Lafitte!"
"Regardless, things are about to get lively on the seas again. Don't underestimate that Wilder fellow, not for a second. He's a dangerous man," Blackbeard said, his grin receding slightly, a sharp light glinting in his eyes. The rest of the crew paused, falling silent at his shift in tone.
If Wilder becoming a Warlord resonated strongly with anyone, it was naturally the other Warlords themselves.
"So, it is him…" On a gloomy island, within a castle, the man renowned as the World's Greatest Swordsman, Hawkeye Mihawk, murmured to himself as he read the newspaper.
The red wine in the glass on his table swirled gently. A flicker of interest entered his hawk-like eyes.
"What's that? Gimme!" A small figure floated over, snatching the newspaper directly from Mihawk's hands from behind before drifting a safe distance away to read it.
Mihawk showed no reaction, simply lifting his wine glass for a delicate sip.
"It's nothing. Just a fellow who isn't weak."
"Hmph! Is he stronger than you?" Perona retorted, rolling her eyes before focusing back on the paper.
Mihawk didn't answer. He was never an arrogant man, nor one who would ever consider himself inferior.
Meanwhile, in a palace within a certain New World kingdom, Doflamingo, clad in his signature pink feather coat and sunglasses, lounged on a beach chair, a wide grin plastered across his face.
The contents of the newspaper had certainly captured his interest. Scenes from the Summit War flashed through his mind.
"...Indeed a dangerous fellow."
The ripples from Wilder's appointment continued to spread. Across the Four Blues, countless ambitious individuals, lacking a true understanding of the legendary Grand Line, began to bare their fangs.
"A Warlord, huh? Hahaha! Then he'll just be a stepping stone for me!" On some small island, amidst the smoldering ruins of a village they'd just destroyed, the captain of a pirate crew—a man with a thick, shaggy beard—had eyes gleaming with manic excitement.
"Hahaha! What's a Warlord? Just a bunch of Marine lapdogs, if you ask me! How strong can guys who willingly lower themselves like that really be!?"
Such were the ignorant boasts of those hiding in sheltered harbors. Those with even a modicum of understanding about the Warlords remained silent.
The forceful rise of a new power was never a small matter; its influence would inevitably spread far and wide. The Warlords, serving as the Marines' violent instruments to check other pirates, enabling the precarious balance of the Three Great Powers—they were no mere small fry.
The situation on the seas maintained a semblance of stability precisely because of the Warlords' existence. Without them, the rampant chaos of piracy would be unimaginable. This was why the Warlord system—a uniquely significant, inherently contradictory, and often criticized organization—was allowed to persist in the world.
Wilder's powerful emergence, and the Marines' acceptance of him, signaled their intention to maintain this system. In some ways, it might even serve to curb the ambitions of certain opportunistic individuals who had grown bolder after the Summit War.
It also sent a clear signal: Become a Warlord of the Sea! Become one of the World's Three Great Powers! This was bait, meant to attract other powerful pirates. The vacant Warlord positions would become coveted prizes in the eyes of major pirates. To attain this status, these pirates might willingly undertake tasks for the Marines—such as eliminating rival pirates—in exchange for a Warlord title. In doing so, the current chaotic state of the seas might be somewhat calmed by the actions of these very pirates, significantly reducing the pressure on the Marines.
"Wilder, huh…" In the New World, a young man wearing a distinctive fur hat murmured the name, tapping fingers tattooed with letters lightly on a table. "Looks like I need to speed things up." He lifted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips, the dark circles under his eyes clearly visible.
While the seas were abuzz with the news, Wilder himself learned of it through the newspaper Ashin had delivered.
Clearly, the Marines had pulled a fast one on him, announcing it before the contract was even finalized. Yet, Wilder wasn't angry. Truth be told, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and backing out was never an option for him.
Becoming a Warlord didn't fundamentally change anything within Wilder, though some of his plans would need slight adjustments due to this unexpected development. Overall, however, becoming a Warlord was advantageous. Some schemes might even become easier to implement because of it.
"Did you find out?" Ashin had returned from a mission. Now that Black Serpent was the dominant force in Chenoat, Wilder intended to use it as a base for outward expansion. Ashin had been sent to investigate crucial resource locations.
Among these, gunpowder was one of Wilder's top priorities.
"Mm," Ashin nodded, replying concisely. "Approximately a three-day sail east from Chenoat lies the Greni Archipelago, also known as Gunpowder Island. The islands are rich in various minerals, especially those used for making gunpowder. It's controlled by a powerful family."
"Gather the men. Prepare to depart," Wilder ordered immediately, without a shred of hesitation.
"Mm." Ashin turned and left the headquarters.
Soon, a large vessel flying the Black Serpent flag slowly pulled away from the docks. On board, besides Wilder and Ashin, were several key managerial figures—individuals recruited by Claire and Franpetar for the Black Serpent Merchant Guild, all possessing a degree of combat capability. Additionally, the ship carried over two hundred crew members: strong young men, none particularly docile, many with backgrounds as former pirates themselves.
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