Kaneshiro adopted a thoughtful expression. Under the expectant gazes of the underworld bosses, he spoke slowly. "It's not impossible. However, how much capital are you all prepared to offer? Red Leaf's policy is a fifty percent down payment—in gold only. The remainder is due upon delivery."
"Are these terms acceptable to you?"
The men exchanged glances. They put on an unhurried, unconcerned air, as if weighing the pros and cons, before nodding in unison. "No problem. We can accept those terms."
In truth, these were the same terms they'd had with Joker, so it wasn't a point of contention. Their feigned deliberation was merely a matter of posturing.
"Very well. If you would all please wait here for a moment, I need to discuss the details with the company's shareholders before making a final decision," Kaneshiro said, standing up with a smile.
Like hell we believe you!
Although they didn't believe his act for a second—it was obvious he was going to consult with the power behind him, not some fictional "shareholders"—they maintained their composed, business-like demeanor. "Please, go ahead," they said, nodding sagely.
The moment Kaneshiro stepped out of the office, his calm and collected facade vanished. He discreetly wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. Damn, this is too intense! These guys have been at the top of the underworld for years; I almost lost my composure. If I didn't know the boss had my back, I would've cracked for sure.
After his silent rant, Kaneshiro steadied his nerves and took out a Den Den Mushi to call Wilder.
"Nyehehehe... Kaneshiro. How did it go?" In the palace, Wilder had been monitoring the situation the entire time. The events in the office had been transmitted to him via a live video feed—a fact even Kaneshiro was unaware of.
Of course, the surveillance was only temporary. Wilder had no ulterior motives; he simply wanted to test Kaneshiro and see if he was worth cultivating.
So far, he had not been disappointed.
"Boss..." Kaneshiro quickly relayed the situation.
Although Wilder had already seen everything, he listened patiently until Kaneshiro finished. He didn't speak immediately, instead swirling the wine in his glass.
Hearing only silence on the other end, Kaneshiro waited quietly, not daring to interrupt.
In reality, this had been Wilder's goal from the moment he had spread the rumor that the machine guns came from the Red Leaf Company.
Of course he was going to sell the guns; otherwise, they were just a pile of scrap metal. For now, his and Morass's primary source of income was still the machine gun trade that had previously run through Doflamingo.
With Doflamingo out of the picture, Wilder now held that line firmly in his own hands. This had been his objective from the very beginning.
Only by doing this could he break free from Doflamingo's constraints and control the profits himself.
Wilder flipped through the file he had on Doflamingo's previous arms deals, noting the prices he had charged the various merchants.
A small smile touched his lips. "Sell to them," he said. "However... the price will be a forty percent markup from what I sold them to Doflamingo for."
Doflamingo had been selling them at a sixty percent markup.
By undercutting him by twenty percent, Wilder would still be making more profit than before. Business was all about having the advantage. Wilder didn't have to buy the machine guns; he manufactured them. His profit margin was far greater than Doflamingo's had ever been.
"I understand, Boss." Kaneshiro put away the Den Den Mushi, composed himself, and strode back into the office with a steady gait.
All eyes followed him until he was seated behind his desk once more.
"Well, Mr. Kaneshiro? Have you finished your discussion?" the fat man asked, his eyes fixed on him eagerly.
The others also watched him with a mixture of anxiety and tension. To them, weapons were wealth, and wealth was life. Nothing was more important.
"Ahem..." Kaneshiro cleared his throat. He had no intention of stringing them along. He was about to speak when an employee from the Red Leaf Company burst into the room.
The employee ignored everyone else—he was clearly a man who had seen his share of action—and rushed to the desk. "Boss," he said, speaking rapidly in a voice filled with excitement, "the switchboard is being flooded with calls from various companies! They all want to partner with us and buy our machine guns!"
Hearing this, the dozen underworld bosses in the room grew agitated. Who the hell are these people!? How did they get the news so fast!? And they're calling directly!? Have they no shame!?
Their faces darkened. Machine guns were a high-demand commodity. They hadn't even secured their own supply yet, and now others were trying to cut in line. Unacceptable! There weren't enough to go around as it was.
Before Kaneshiro could speak, the fat man slammed his hands on the desk. "Mr. Kaneshiro, we brought this to you first! You have to prioritize our orders!"
"Yes, that's right!" the others chimed in.
Kaneshiro first looked at his employee and nodded. "Alright, I understand. Take down the names of all the companies that called. I'll deal with them later."
"Yes, sir." The employee, having delivered his message, hurried out.
Kaneshiro then turned to the bosses with a faint smile. "Gentlemen, why don't you have a seat? We can't conduct business while standing, can we?"
"Right, right! Mr. Kaneshiro is right!" Hearing this, they all brightened, knowing a deal was within reach.
Things proceeded just as Wilder had planned. Kaneshiro didn't bother testing their limits; he simply gave them the price Wilder had set.
The rest of the negotiations went smoothly. To both Kaneshiro's and Wilder's surprise, when the bosses heard the price was twenty percent lower than Doflamingo's, they went into a frenzy. Fearing the stock would be bought up by others, they all placed massive orders, far exceeding the quantities Wilder had previously supplied to Doflamingo.
The total value of the machine guns ordered by the dozen men in the room, not including ammunition, reached a staggering 800 billion Berries.
When Kaneshiro, his hands trembling, reported this figure to Wilder, even Wilder was momentarily stunned.
Eight hundred billion!
Not eighty billion, not eight hundred million. Eight hundred billion.
He knew these were the biggest arms dealers in the underworld, so high demand was expected. But this figure was simply astronomical. The down payment alone was four hundred billion, far beyond Wilder's wildest expectations.
However, what Wilder didn't expect was that this was only the beginning.
As the news spread, arms dealers from all over the underworld began contacting the Red Leaf Company, seeking to form partnerships. Those who had initially called on the phone now showed up in person, desperate to secure larger quantities of machine guns.
The arms market was vast; they had no fear of supply exceeding demand. The machine guns had already proven their effectiveness on the battlefield. Nations that had purchased them had achieved great victories. With such concrete examples, the demand was through the roof. They had no doubt they could sell every last one.
And so, everyone who learned the price went mad, scrambling to buy as many as they could. Kaneshiro was also going mad, overwhelmed by the dizzying figures. He had never imagined he would one day be dealing with such enormous sums of money.
The final transaction total reached a terrifying five trillion Berries.
And that was only because Wilder had stepped in and ordered Kaneshiro to limit the sales. Otherwise, the figure would have been even more horrifying.
Wilder himself was shocked by the number. If not for his self-control, he might have been completely consumed by the sheer scale of it.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Wilder immediately issued an order for the Munitions Department to halt all other projects and focus entirely on manufacturing first-generation machine guns.
Business, of any kind, was built on trust and integrity. That was the only way to ensure a steady stream of partnerships. Wilder had no intention of ruining his reputation by failing to deliver on the orders.
At the same time, the 2.5 trillion Berry down payment began to flow into Morass. Wilder knew his nation was on the verge of an explosive period of growth.
With this capital, after accounting for the minor costs of raw materials for the machine guns, the rest could be invested directly into national development.
And since the primary materials for the guns were sourced from his own mines in the East Blue, his only real costs were for transportation and any specialized components he couldn't produce himself.
He had essentially created a vertically integrated industry. With costs driven down to a minimum, the profits were guaranteed.
But he couldn't get ahead of himself. Wilder knew that development was inseparable from the outside world. Consider two islands: one is skilled at manufacturing but has no raw materials, while the other is rich in resources but lacks manufacturing capabilities. If they refuse to trade, one will be unable to produce anything, and the other will be sitting on a useless mountain of resources.
Only through cooperation and trade can progress be made.
Wilder knew that Morass had immense potential, technology, and unique resources. But at the same time, it lacked many things that could only be obtained from the outside world.
You give me what I lack, and I'll give you what you lack. That was the win-win scenario of cooperative trade.
Standing at the highest point of the palace, looking out at the distant landscape and the laborers at work, Wilder fell into deep thought.
Without a doubt, the next step was to break Big Mom's military blockade and surveillance. It was a prerequisite for opening up trade routes. Only by eliminating this threat could Wilder have peace of mind.
But how?
Wilder already had a plan in mind.
But it still needed to be refined.
And it would involve the Marines. Before he could set his plan in motion, he had to ensure that the Marines still viewed him in a favorable light.
In the days that followed, Morass entered a state of frenzied activity, while the underworld was gripped by a machine gun fever.
The underworld was a strange and complex system, with countless intricate channels connecting various powers, from the Four Emperors down to common street thugs. Yet, there seemed to be a tacit understanding to exclude the World Government and the Marines.
In the deepest recesses of the underworld, the true rulers had their own secret channels, unknown even to other bosses. These channels formed a vast, dark network, so hidden that even those within it couldn't see the whole picture.
The machine guns had opened these channels to Wilder. Through these secret routes, he shipped out batch after batch of weapons.
But these channels were still provided by the underworld bosses. To get the guns, they had either "taught" Wilder how to transport them or simply found ways to "acquire" them themselves. So, while the channels were open, the power to open and close them remained in the hands of the bosses. Wilder couldn't penetrate any deeper.
But as the saying goes, for every measure, there is a countermeasure. Soon, a secret surveillance team quietly infiltrated these channels.
Wilder had to have control. Only with "his own channels" could he do more.
With his own secret channels, the threat of Big Mom's blockade would be greatly diminished.
Half a month passed. Morass had completely taken over Doflamingo's former empire. Using the infrastructure he had left behind, they had carved out a massive, hidden channel in the underworld.
This was the source of Joker's immense power. As the middleman, he had the most numerous, complex, and hidden channels.
By taking over his businesses, Morass was able to restore this collapsed network. While not a complete recovery, they had managed to restore it to about seventy or eighty percent of its former glory.
And with time, that seventy or eighty percent would grow back to one hundred, and perhaps even surpass it.
Without a doubt, with these assets, Morass—or rather, the Red Leaf Company—was now a behemoth in the underworld.
Using this channel, Morass's trade plans would be much easier to implement.
Wilder knew the time was almost right.
"It's time... to begin."
A gust of wind blew down from the Beastland forest on the mountain, carrying with it a faint trace of swamp gas. It washed over Wilder, but then something strange happened. The gas didn't disperse. Instead, like a drop of water merging with a lake, the moment it touched Wilder's skin, it was absorbed into him.
Whoosh!
The wind howled, whipping his black greatcoat around him. Wilder strode out of the palace.
"But before that, I need to pay a visit to the Marines."