Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
Banquet hall.
Reporters and guests mingled with drinks in hand, exchanging valuable information.
Daren stood quietly in a corner of the hall with a glass of red wine, avoiding the crowd. In his other hand, he held a military Den Den Mushi.
"Are they all here? Good."
"You're too lazy, leaving all the work to me while you enjoy yourself at headquarters..."
Momonga's voice came through, grumbling as if he could hear the lively atmosphere on Daren's end.
Daren chuckled.
"It's because I trust you."
The Den Den Mushi vividly mimicked Momonga's eye-roll.
Daren smiled again.
"By the way, that Fish-Man kid named Jinbe is very talented. Train him well."
"I'll come back when I have time."
...
At a secret port in the North Blue, on the other end of the call.
Momonga pressed both hands onto a large device resembling a socket, feeding a steady stream of blue current into it.
Hearing Daren's words, his expression turned slightly surprised.
There were very few young people Daren would ever describe as "excellent."
Even Doflamingo, back then, had never earned that kind of praise from him.
"Alright. No problem."
Trusting Daren, he didn't ask any more questions.
"I'll get back to work now."
He hung up and exhaled slowly.
In front of him, the energy bar on a gauge quickly filled to 100%. He released his hands.
"Charging complete! Prepare to set sail again!"
A Marine soldier shouted with a stern voice.
At his command, two hundred armed Marines moved swiftly, boarding a massive warship that gleamed with metallic luster and exuded a cold, rigid design.
A closer look revealed each of them was equipped with cutting-edge technological weaponry—
Leg armor with acceleration thrusters, lightweight armor made from high-toughness materials, high-frequency electric rifles, close-combat blades forged from high-density alloys...
Each full set of combat gear cost more than 5 million Belly!
These were the elite troops of the North Blue Navy.
They'd undergone intense training, possessed exceptional military prowess, and with their gear, each had combat strength on par with officers from Marine Headquarters.
Each flying warship carried 200 such core combat soldiers.
That meant the cost of personnel per warship exceeded 1 billion Belly—
Not even counting the cost of modifying, maintaining, and repairing the ship itself.
An astronomical figure.
Today, every warship in the North Blue Air Fleet came equipped with:
—Three heavy laser cannons
—Ten conventional cannons
—200 tech-equipped elite soldiers
—1,000 standard soldiers
A total of fifteen flying warships, numbered from Ship No. 1 to Ship No. 15—
Their annual maintenance alone cost over 2 billion Belly!
Momonga looked up at the massive vessel slowly sailing out of the port and lifting into the air under its engine's thrust.
His eyes gleamed with an indescribable pride.
This was the foundation of the North Blue Fleet.
Using the 321st Branch as a training base, only the best of the best, selected through a rigorous screening process, joined the flying fleet.
Fifteen warships.
More than 20,000 personnel.
With this kind of firepower and discipline, their overall combat strength rivaled that of Marine Headquarters' 50,000-strong Grand Fleet—
And in terms of mobility, strategy, and stealth, they were far superior.
With such a powerful fleet at their disposal, Daren and Momonga divided the North Blue into 150 zones.
Each warship patrolled 10 zones—sealing the sea completely.
Anyone who dared break the rules...
Would be eliminated on the spot.
"However, it's impossible to continue expanding the fleet in the short term."
Momonga muttered quietly as he watched the steel warships disappear into the distant sea of clouds.
After all, the North Blue wasn't as wealthy as the Grand Line. They had poured nearly all of the region's financial resources into building this flying fleet and had already reached the limits of what they could afford.
Unless they raised taxes further or forced the North Blue nations to offer "tribute," there was no path forward.
But that was clearly out of the question.
Raising taxes any more would be nothing but draining the pond to catch the fish—it wouldn't help the situation, and it would only hurt the common people.
As for coercing the North Blue nations into paying tribute? That would only stir up trouble.
The fleet's rapid and successful growth in these waters relied heavily on Daren's ability to balance the interests of governments, nobles, and civilians alike.
If that balance were disrupted, it would spark political backlash beyond imagination—and possibly attract the attention of the World Government.
Besides, Momonga was already feeling pushed to his limits.
With his current mastery of the Goro Goro no Mi, just keeping 15 warships running for daily patrols was nearly too much.
Any more, and he simply wouldn't be able to manage it.
That was also why Daren had started considering the formation of an underwater combat unit.
Fishmen were cheap, after all.
But still...
"If this keeps up, I really won't have a single drop left..."
Momonga shook his head, pushing the thought aside as he looked at the line of warships waiting their turn to be "recharged." He felt like crying but had no tears to shed.
Under the sympathetic and pitying stares of the surrounding Marines, he straightened his back and marched toward the massive charging dock with noble resolve—
As if heading into battle.
...
Putting away the military Den Den Mushi, Daren took a light sip of red wine, looking completely at ease.
He had to admit—Momonga was truly capable.
Because of the Shichibukai system, he hadn't returned to the North Blue in nearly half a year.
His involvement in the development of the North Blue fleet had been limited to high-level planning and listening to Momonga's routine reports.
Even so, the fleet's rapid progress had gone a bit beyond his expectations.
Was it worth it, pouring all of North Blue's wealth into building fifteen flying warships?
And could this airborne fleet truly deliver combat power worthy of its cost?
Even Daren didn't have a definite answer to those questions.
But money sitting idle in your hands is just a pile of useless paper.
At the very least, he now had a team of his own.
And the North Blue, as a result, had become an impenetrable fortress.
Daren pulled out a cigar, bit down on it, lit it, and looked around the banquet hall.
His gaze swept past Admiral Sengoku, whose face was flushed from animated conversation with a crowd of reporters,
Then quickly landed on a figure sitting at a table, eating with reckless abandon.
He strolled over at a relaxed pace, sat down across from the man, pushed aside the mountain of plates between them, and smiled.
"Bullet, do you know what Roger's pirate crew has been up to lately?"