King Cobra fell silent the moment Kuzan finished speaking.
His heart twisted with conflict, and his fingers clenched unconsciously until his knuckles turned pale.
Ten percent of the gold.
A quantity so large that any kingdom would covet it.
Alabasta, once a mighty desert nation home to tens of millions, had been devastated by drought and years of internal strife. Its treasury was empty, and its people were exhausted from hardship.
More than anyone else, Cobra understood what this fund represented for the restoration of his country.
With this gold, dry riverbeds could once again carry water.
Collapsed homes could be rebuilt.
Children could go to sleep with full stomachs.
The elderly could finally live out their days in peace.
But all this gold belonged to the Navy.
How could Alabasta accept such a fortune without shame?
Kuzan watched the tortured expression twisting Cobra's features and let out a soft, knowing smile.
This was exactly what the Marine Headquarters had expected.
Cobra's unshakable integrity made him unable to accept the gold as charity.
It also reaffirmed something else.
Renn Hawk's judgment had been spot-on.
The first allied nation he chose for the Navy was indeed worthy of trust.
"King Cobra," Kuzan said, lifting a finger.
"Let's adjust the plan. It will still be ten percent of the gold."
He gently swayed his finger.
"But it will not be charity, and it will not be compensation."
"You can consider it an investment."
Cobra froze.
The tension in his heart eased, even if only by a fraction.
"That's right," Kuzan continued, voice steady and sincere. "An investment.
This money will be repaid to the Navy, only after Alabasta becomes prosperous again."
He paused, then his eyes sharpened.
"Your Majesty, perhaps you misunderstand something."
"People think the Marines only need weapons and warships."
"That is not true. We excel in battle, in destruction, but when it comes to logistics, we fall far behind a fully structured nation."
"In the future, the Navy will raise soldier wages, expand its ranks, and support every allied country that stands for justice, helping them withstand disasters and crisis."
"All of this will require an enormous amount of supplies."
He spoke with rare intensity.
"We need enough food to feed hundreds of thousands of Marines."
"We need strong, durable fabric for uniforms and sails."
"We need medical supplies, timber and steel for ship repairs, and even alcohol and entertainment goods so our soldiers can recover after battle."
"And these things cannot be produced by the Navy itself."
"That is why we wish to invest in Alabasta.
To help rebuild your industries, your farmlands, your factories, and in return, Alabasta will repay the investment through the goods produced."
Silence fell.
Then Cobra slowly exhaled a long, trembling breath, releasing the weight pressing on his heart.
So that was the meaning behind the gold.
Not charity.
Not one-sided benefit.
But a partnership.
A true alliance.
In an instant, the ruler within him awakened, mind racing with possibilities.
The eastern oasis regions could be mobilized to expand barley and wheat production.
The southern mines could be reopened, providing steel for Marine warships.
The western herding tribes could supply leather and meat in massive quantities.
The people of Alabasta were hardworking and resilient.
They could repay this grace through their labor and devotion.
This investment was something Alabasta could accept.
And repay.
"Admiral Aokiji," Cobra declared, eyes firm and decisive, "on behalf of the Kingdom of Alabasta, I accept this investment."
Kuzan nodded, his smile relaxed and genuine.
"In that case, King Cobra…"
"May our cooperation be fruitful."
"Cooperation it is."
Their hands clasped tightly in the scorching desert air.
The Navy and its first major logistics nation had just sealed an agreement that would reshape the world.
Devil's Triangle
Two figures streaked across the misty battlefield like meteor trails, rushing toward the colossal giant forged from a thousand shadows.
"Hey, moss-head, you take the right and I'll take the left," Sanji said while sprinting at full speed. He lit a cigarette with practiced ease, repeating a trick he had used to fool Zoro once before.
His little scheme gleamed brightly in his mind.
This idiot with the green hair had the directional sense of a drunk pigeon.
Point anywhere and Zoro was guaranteed to run straight into some random abyss.
Once the swordsman got lost, the first strike, the promotion, and Vice Admiral Kizaru's personal kicking techniques would all go to him, Vinsmoke Sanji.
Zoro nodded without hesitation.
He hurled Wado Ichimonji, scabbard and all, like a streak of pale lightning straight toward Moria.
Then he pushed forward with explosive power, preparing to catch up with his flying sword.
But right as he took his first step, he pointed in the complete opposite direction.
"Oh no, curly-brow."
"I heard a Marine lady calling for help over there. She needs a knight to rescue her."
"Where?!"
"A knight must protect all ladies in distress!"
Sanji reacted before he even realized what he was doing, halting and spinning toward the direction Zoro pointed.
There was nothing.
Only endless fog and darkness.
He froze.
He had been fooled.
Again.
By that damned moss-headed menace.
By the time he jerked around in fury, Zoro was already a tiny silhouette, standing beneath the towering shadow-giant.
"First strike!" Zoro roared into the wind.
His eyes burned with fierce determination.
The first strike was more than a simple achievement. It was a way to completely overshadow that ridiculous chef in terms of rank.
But more importantly, the reward.
Private swordsmanship training from Admiral Kizaru, one of the Navy's top fighters.
If he could learn even a fraction of Kizaru's mastery, his own swordsmanship would soar to new heights.
Only then could he faintly hope to catch up to Renn Hawk's distant figure.
Only then could he fulfill that promise.
"Ki ki ki ki ki!"
Moria's monstrous laughter echoed through the air, dripping with contempt.
He raised one massive hand, ready to crush the tiny intruder like an insect.
"It's time."
Zoro's gaze sharpened like a hawk's.
He lowered his body, inhaled deeply, and shifted into a piercing stance.
Armament Haki bled across Wado Ichimonji, turning the once white blade into a pitch black spear of destruction.
Though the blade remained sheathed, its edge was already radiating lethal precision.
"Oh? Now this is interesting," Renn Hawk murmured from above, watching intently.
Zoro had fused the Navy's Rokushiki techniques with his own swordsmanship.
The "Instant Prison Kill" he used against the samurai Ryuma drew from Soru, chasing absolute speed.
But this technique…
This was like Shigan.
Compressing every ounce of power into a single, devastating thrust.
Renn's eyes gleamed.
Zoro was truly a genius in the way of the blade.
Zoro exhaled a stream of cold mist, his aura surging to its peak.
His entire being concentrated into a single point.
Wado Ichimonji shot forward like a black thunderbolt, faster than the eye could follow.
A thrust that merged the piercing force of Shigan with the destructive compression of Armament Haki, aimed directly at Moria's massive ankle.
"One Sword Style Secret Art: Black Blade Rokushiki Divine Spear!"
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