"What's inside? Open it for inspection."
The inspector's tone was devoid of emotion; as basic AI, they naturally lacked rich feelings and only knew how to follow procedures.
If they ever made an abnormal move, there would only be one reason: Oran, as the highest authority, had set new instructions for them to achieve a certain goal.
"Meow!"
A tabby cat was scratching the outside of the box with its paw, its eyes very determined.
The island-based environment limited the development of many things; it was difficult to be comprehensive with just one island, and islands that could achieve self-sufficiency already met the needs of most people.
To develop further, trade was indispensable.
However, the Grand Line's environment restricted ship travel, and the development ceiling of most nations was locked.
Firefly Island's environment was sufficient for food self-sufficiency, and Oran's technology could solve energy problems, but there were still gaps in some raw materials and special crops, which were currently in the import stage.
Coupled with the existing export business and his special status in the underworld, the frequency of Firefly Island cargo ships appearing was considered high among the nations of the Grand Line.
"There's nothing inside, just some candy and dried goods."
"Second warning, open it for inspection."
Explanation was useless; only results were believed here. Members of the security team were already approaching, their fully armed equipment far more effective in deterrence than words.
The exoskeleton mechs were still under review and not yet officially equipped; these individuals only carried ordinary police equipment.
A special model between regular police uniforms and armor, with a blue base uniform and gold stripe decorations.
Armor was equipped on the arms, chest, crotch, and other positions, and under the metal helmet was a special gas mask. The specific style was identical to that of Piltover's original security forces.
With existing regulations in place, Oran, aside from upgraded mech units, had not made any special arrangements. The belt on his waist bore Piltover's emblem.
He held an improved rifle; both its firing mode and ammunition had been upgraded. Compared to the round projectiles fired by those technologically bizarre flintlock pistols, the power of these pointed bullets was much greater.
Seeing the muzzle pointed at his head, the merchant could only cooperate and open the box.
The initial inspection found no problems, and no hidden compartments were found in the box; it just contained significantly more goods than declared on the manifest.
"Alas, cross-sea business is difficult, aren't I just trying to save some taxes?"
The merchant gave his reason, seemingly aware that evading inspection would seem strange.
The reason for tax evasion sounded plausible, but a candy ball floated up out of thin air.
"You're lying. There's a special smell in here. The kittens can't smell the quantity difference."
The air rippled, and a werewolf appeared out of nowhere in front of the merchant, directly crushing the candy ball in his hand.
"You wouldn't tell me these are just powdered sugar, would you?"
Absalom, now a probationary police officer, though still technically a child laborer, this sea didn't care about that; if you had ability, you naturally had to use it.
Brand had already begun to let Absalom do some practical work, and Absalom also wanted to contribute his strength, so a mobile inspector occasionally appeared at the immigration checkpoint.
Even experienced strong individuals would stumble over the Devil Fruit, let alone these ordinary people.
"An invisible werewolf? A Mythical Zoan wolf? How come I've never heard of such a creature?"
Among the crowd watching the excitement nearby was Kuzan. He was currently pondering what kind of wolf could be invisible. Although Kuzan was still a hot-blooded youth at this time, he understood Marine rules.
They had no reason to interfere in the internal affairs of non-Allied Nations like Piltover, at least not openly in the name of the Marine.
Even if there were issues, it would be a private action.
"Smuggling? What is that stuff…?"
Kuzan's eyes were not chemical analyzers, so he naturally couldn't tell what the substance was, but the inspectors here had special test strips. As the color of the test strip changed, the result was self-evident.
And the merchant's face turned ashen at this moment.
He attempted to bribe them, hoping the goods could enter the island directly, but this was only the first step of his plan. If he truly encountered someone incorruptible, the merchant would resist for a while then accept the inspection.
Then he would try to get by with under-reporting goods. The consequences of this would be nothing more than back taxes or fines, and he could still get the goods in.
And under the cover of this smokescreen, most people would relax their guard, thinking they had found a loophole.
Most nations on this sea did not have police dogs. Animals appearing in the sequence were mostly used as mounts or guards. Piltover's police cats were also a precedent.
"Hey, why aren't you talking? Who gave you the guts to dare to transport this kind of thing into this country?"
"I need to make a call… There's a misunderstanding here…"
The moment Absalom discovered the problem, the surrounding muzzles were already pointed at the merchant's head, and his accompanying subordinates received the same treatment.
"No misunderstanding. For this kind of thing, we only look at the results."
The goods were sealed, and the relevant personnel were all detained. At this moment, a new meow came from the side.
"Meow!"
After the matter was over, the tabby cat puffed up its fur at Absalom. It was asserting its dominance, indicating that it had discovered these things, not the wolf that had appeared out of nowhere.
The intelligence of these cats was quite high; they clearly understood the principle of merit = dried fish. Absalom, on the other hand, chose to disappear by going invisible. Although the cat could smell him, it couldn't catch up to his speed.
Among the staff present, Absalom's work enthusiasm was comparable to that of a bionic human. It wasn't that he wanted rewards, but that he believed Oran wouldn't treat him unfairly, as long as he could achieve results.
After all, all his strength came from Oran's technology, and the feeling of being full of power was like sweet dew to him.
Garp's subordinates demonstrated excellent repair capabilities, completing the ship's repairs in just half a day, comparable to professional shipwrights, and began their return journey with the re-packaged orders.
Meanwhile, Oran was handling the affairs of his territory. Relying on those bionic assistants, Oran rarely intervened in most matters after establishing the operating rules; the bionic humans could handle them very well for him.
However, some matters still required Oran's approval, such as death penalty approvals.
"Oran, these are the criminals discovered at the immigration office today. Those people hid addictive drugs in candy and tried to bring them in.
The masterminds have all been arrested, and they've been interrogated separately below. The handlers have all been identified."
Kate handed over a report detailing what happened today.
"I see. Conduct a review. If there are no discrepancies, approve the execution. Send them back early."
"Understood."
Oran signed the execution permit directly, but almost simultaneously, his private den den mushi rang.
"Feld? What's wrong?"
"Oran, today… you caught a few criminals, right?"
"That's right. Don't tell me these people are related to you."
"No, no, how could that be? Those people are only related to Gibbson. They are subordinates he values highly, which is why he came to me.
Look, if there's no big problem, can you just release them?"
The underworld's network of relationships was still very complex. After the port arrested the illegal smugglers, his subordinates immediately reported upwards.
Although Gibbson was in the warehousing business, that was just his main business. People in the underworld were all more or less involved in various industries, it was just that the level of investment varied greatly.
Relatively speaking, Feld was the most familiar with Oran, which is why Gibbson sought Feld to act as an intercessor.
"Feld, you should be clear about the rules here, shouldn't you?
It's not my first day establishing a nation here. After all this time, my rules should have spread throughout the underworld, shouldn't they?"
"That's true, but the people below don't know the severity of their actions. That kid, he…"
"No need to say more. Piltover has two ironclad laws: those who traffic in illegal drugs and engage in human trafficking face only the death penalty. You know this very well, don't you?"
The sea was chaotic, and human trafficking was an even more lucrative industry. Although the World Government nominally prohibited human trafficking, there was a Human Referral Center right under the World Government's nose in Sabaody Archipelago.
Illegal drugs followed a similar principle. Oran's current capabilities could not clear the entire sea; after all, the roots of this great tree were already rotten.
But he had the ability to keep his own territory clean.
Oran held a certain status in the underworld. From the moment he began engaging in commercial trade through various channels, the island's rules had already been made known.
These people could be said to have knowingly broken the law, as the immense profits brought by that substance made them willing to take certain risks.
Furthermore, on this sea, this substance had always been a grey industry, with no clear standards or restrictions.
"Feld, we are old acquaintances. Today, out of respect for you, I will make an exception."
Hearing Oran say this, Feld thought Oran was willing to relent, but before he could say thank you, Oran's words blocked all his subsequent arguments.
"According to the rules, such people are directly thrown into the sea after execution. This time, I'll be flexible. You can send someone to take the bodies away."
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