They bid farewell to Laboon and Crocus.
Crocus had no wish to travel to Drum Kingdom, yet he still pressed a medical monograph into Jin's hands. He'd compiled it himself, he said. Please bring it back and have Dr. Kureha look it over.
A student must always let the mentor read the paper. Authority requires a stamp.
Jin promised that if the work passed muster, the Drum Kingdom could help publish it so more people could learn from it.
Crocus waved off the offer with words, but hope still flickered in his eyes.
If one can leave a name after death, even luck becomes blessing.
The devil carrier set course for Whiskey Peak.
This was territory of Baroque Works.
Jin had already spoken with Crocodile. A portion of the goods he'd brought from the North Blue would be sold in Alabasta through their network.
In addition, one hundred Kar98k rifles and five thousand rounds would be issued to Baroque Works bounty hunters for trials and evaluation.
How to allocate them would be Old Sand's decision.
Jin also had a larger plan for Baroque Works: reshape it along the lines of Cross Guild's model, but centered on bounty hunters.
In short, a Bounty Hunters' Guild.
There were plenty of bounty hunters among pirates, yet no one truly organized them. Most fought alone.
If the guild was built well, people could apply and, after a simple assessment, join and take on missions of every scale through the guild.
While expanding influence, they would harvest talent.
Crocodile agreed at once.
Since learning the whereabouts of Pluton, he'd lost interest in Alabasta entirely. His so-called "Utopia Plan" had sunk without a trace.
Now his mind burned on a different front: how to steal from Kaido's walls.
First, grow power. That was one way forward.
If things went well, the Bounty Hunters' Guild might even become a global behemoth second only to the Marines.
During his travels, Jin had drafted a plan to guide the guild's growth. Under his view, Baroque Works would undergo reorganization and—for the moment—split into three wings: Combat, Intelligence, and Logistics.
Then they would partner with kingdoms and private clients, accept contracts, and recruit through the guild banner.
Jin proposed. Crocodile executed.
There was no one more suited.
He might have wasted twenty years, but he had also clawed through the underworld for twenty years. Experience had soaked into his bones.
Of course, all this would need money. Luckily, Jin's North Blue tour had brought a respectable haul.
Bellamy's crew alone contributed 350 million Berries—he had hijacked the payment for goods, the fool.
From several other pirate crews, Jin collected another 120 million or so.
Add to that the Grand Line specialties he'd sold to various kingdoms—ice mushrooms, ground mushrooms, fine perfumes and the like—and this single voyage had raked in close to one billion Berries.
What about Germa 66?
It looked like a kingdom with clout, but in truth it was burdened by debts. Research eats money.
Vegapunk had cooperated with the World Government for exactly that reason: only they could afford his research.
And the Revolutionary Army?
A band of the oppressed—poor to the bone. Rumor said they'd borrowed from Lu Feld more than once.
See? To make a revolution, passion alone won't do. You need money.
One must admit, the idea of isolating the four seas with Reverse Mountain and Mary Geoise was diabolically effective. The Celestial Dragons didn't even need the Heavenly Tribute. By monopolizing a single channel of inter-sea trade, they lay back and collected coin.
After Whiskey Peak, Jin chose another route and headed for the Land of Fire.
There he met with Captain Sherlock.
"North Blue goods?"
"I'll take them."
Sherlock now held real power, with a prosperous household besides, and he carried himself with the air of a clan head.
The Land of Fire was rich in sulfur—one of the components of gunpowder. On mineral sales alone, it cleared a fat surplus every year. Its finances were far better than Alabasta's.
Jin's purpose here was not only to move North Blue stock from his holds, but also to meet Mr. 3, Galdino.
"Mr. Kite, we meet again," Galdino said, lifting a cup of coffee.
Elegance never goes out of style.
"I've received a notice from Mr. 0. I'm to cooperate with you."
For the longest time, Galdino had suspected Jin's true identity. To cover his own past mistake, he'd chosen to pretend along.
He hadn't expected Mr. 0 to send an official memo instructing him to assist Mr. Kite's work.
So it was real.
Thank goodness he had played it right.
"The Land of Fire's weapons factory can be disbanded," Jin said. "I want all the gunpowder and associated materials in storage."
He planned to mass-produce 98k rifles and ammunition. The factory's stockpiles were exactly what he needed, especially the powder.
"Huh?" Galdino blinked.
No more weapons factory?
Baroque Works had invested no small effort into that. Had he done something wrong?
Anxiety pricked his skin.
Jin smiled. "We've found a better source. Also, the organization is about to be reshaped."
"As for you, there will be a proper post."
Galdino let out a breath.
Inwardly, Jin reflected that Old Sand's eye for talent was not bad at all. Baroque Works was packed with capable people.
But when the beam atop is crooked, the beams below tilt with it. With a warped objective and polluted style, the organization had treated its people as mere tools.
Their talents had been shackled.
Ironically, once those operatives left Baroque Works, did time in prison, tempered their edges, and gained freedom, their brilliance bloomed.
A platform matters most.
After the reorganization into a Bounty Hunters' Guild, they would need a new mission, new values, and a new style. Then it would be reborn.
Leaving here, they set course for Drum Island.
Dalton, Jason, Hippocrates and other senior officials led the guard to the ice-free harbor.
Chopper came, Bonney came, and Anaguma came too.
On the shoreline, Dorry stood like a pillar.
Crowds of citizens gathered for the spectacle. Life on Drum Island was simple. Though the new king had instituted service, requiring all men to train, they did not drill every single day.
Especially not on the day the king returned from the sea.
When the Devil Carrier with its black dragon flag sailed into view, the whole city erupted in cheers.
"So warm," Robin murmured.
In the past she had been driven out and betrayed wherever she went. She was not used to being greeted with joy.
"King Jin of Drum," Law said at last, as if tasting the full, formal title of "the king in charge" for the first time.
"A-achoo, so cold."
Behind Penguin and Shachi stood Wolfe, goggles fogged with his breath.
Yes, the same self-proclaimed genius inventor who had saved Law, given him warmth, and—somehow—hammered decency back into his life.
Jin had "invited" him along during the voyage. Not as leverage against Law—Wolfe's inventiveness was truly valuable. His contraptions often failed, yes, but his wild ideas raced ahead of their age.
Besides his ultra-shallow submersible, he had even built an airplane.
It had crashed, nearly killing him.
But that creative spark was exactly what Jin needed.
They had the carrier. Shouldn't a carrier have carrier-based planes?
Jin needed Wolfe to perfect the airframe's structure and details so the Munch-Munch Fruit could synthesize it to spec.
Would Wolfe come willingly?
He lived alone on a small town's fringe. After Law's group left, he'd grown even lonelier. Faced with Jin—what resistance could he muster? The king had a way of inviting that sounded suspiciously like conscription.
Inside Dr. Kureha's sloped citadel, Kureha, Judge, Law, Hippocrates and others were gathered for a joint consultation on Bonney.
They called it a consultation.
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