The moment these words were spoken, even Kalifa—who had maintained professional indifference throughout—couldn't help adjusting her glasses slightly.
"Mr. Ryan, I must make this clear." Iceberg's expression finally showed visible fluctuation as he met Ryan's gaze squarely, his tone serious. "Installing an electrical system on a ship is far more complicated than just adding a few generators."
Leaning forward slightly, Iceberg continued with the precision characteristic of a master craftsman: "Powering lights and maintaining pool water circulation are low-load demands—technically simple to achieve. But integrating electricity into the ship's propulsion system... requires sustained, stable ultra-high power output. Current generators are either too bulky, occupying excessive hull space, or lack sufficient power, making balance difficult to achieve."
This wasn't a technical bottleneck but rather the current limit of electrical technology's application in shipbuilding.
Yet Ryan seemed to have anticipated this response. Leaning back into the sofa, he tapped a slow rhythm on the armrest, that careless smile resurfacing. "I'm not asking you to power the entire ship with electricity. For low-load systems like lighting and water circulation, just build them to the highest specifications—stability is key."
"As for the propulsion system..." Ryan's gaze sharpened as he looked at Iceberg, his eyes carrying clear intent. "You only need to reserve an isolated space in the engine room for a high-capacity electrical conduction device. The interface must withstand instantaneous high-voltage surges to ensure externally supplied power can smoothly integrate with the rudder and propulsion system's drive gears."
Here, Ryan reverted to his nonchalant demeanor. "Where the electricity comes from, whether it's strong enough... that's not your concern."
Iceberg was taken aback. He'd assumed the man wanted a complete "electric propulsion system," never expecting him to have already dissected the requirements so clearly, completely separating out the thorniest energy supply issue.
Kalifa stood nearby, her gaze hardening slightly behind her glasses. This Warlord had clearly planned everything in advance—even having solutions for power deficiencies. These demands were no whimsical notion.
Watching Iceberg's contemplative expression, Ryan's smile didn't waver.
With the Seven Star Sword that had consumed the Lightning-Lightning Fruit, power shortages were the least of his concerns. He wasn't asking Galley-La to create a perfect system from nothing—just to borrow their craftsmanship to build a framework.
Iceberg remained silent for a moment, fingertips pressed to his brow.
He'd dealt with countless demanding clients, but never one so "results-oriented regardless of process." Yet there wasn't a hint of jest in Ryan's tone, and the pressure lurking behind those half-lidded eyes made it clear this wasn't a test.
"...Agreed." Iceberg finally spoke, his voice deeper than before. "But I must state upfront—we cannot guarantee this system's stability. If issues arise from power imbalances, Galley-La Company bears no responsibility."
"No problem." Ryan shrugged indifferently.
Iceberg nodded, his tone returning to its usual steadiness. "I'll need time to draft blueprints and prepare material lists. Also, the price—"
"Price isn't an issue." Ryan interrupted, flicking the sofa armrest lightly. "Just ensure I'm satisfied."
Iceberg studied Ryan's face briefly before responding evenly, "Initial blueprints in two days."
"Efficient." Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with the timeline.
Iceberg offered no further explanation, knowing well that with Warlord clients, delays only bred trouble. Though the request was unusual, its core components were clearly defined: absolute stability for low-load systems, conduction devices capable of withstanding high-voltage surges. Having the veteran technicians work overnight to adapt archived electrical system blueprints, supplemented with special interface designs for the engine room—one day would suffice to establish the framework.
"Three PM day after tomorrow, same location." Iceberg stood, straightening his vest. "I'll have the drafting room prepare 3D schematics for real-time revisions."
"Perfect." Ryan rose as well. "We'll leave you to your work then."
With that, Ryan turned toward the door. Passing Kalifa, he suddenly glanced at her tray, lips quirking. "The coffee was good. Next visit, I hope to sample Galley-La's signature desserts."
Kalifa's eyelid twitched imperceptibly as she maintained her professional nod. "I'll inform the kitchen."
Ryan's gaze lingered on Kalifa's shoulder-length blonde hair for half a second before he withdrew his attention and exited the reception room with his entourage.
He'd known CP9 agents were embedded in Galley-La—he'd spotted Rob Lucci and others blending in with the craftsmen upon arrival. But Ryan hadn't batted an eye. The World Government's lapdogs weren't worth attention unless they obstructed him. Only the golden-haired beauty with her secretary guise had piqued his interest slightly.
Inside the reception room, Kalifa stared at the closed door. Ryan's earlier glance had carried undisguised appraisal—yet unlike the leers of ordinary men, his gaze had felt like evaluating an intriguing "collectible," inexplicably putting her nerves on edge.
Shaking off the thought, Kalifa resumed her detached tone. "President, should we monitor this Warlord's movements?"
"Unnecessary. Focus on our tasks." Iceberg paused, then shook his head.
Some troubles only grew when examined too closely. Better to complete the ship swiftly and see this uninvited guest depart Water 7 sooner rather than later.
Kalifa nodded impassively before adding, "President, two days for blueprint completion will require the technical department to work around the clock."
"Have them postpone routine orders." Iceberg moved to the window, gaze settling on ships undergoing maintenance in the dockyard, his tone brooking no argument. "This project demands precision. Tell the drafting team to calculate the interface's pressure tolerance overnight if necessary... using the Marines' latest warship standards as reference."
Kalifa acknowledged with a "Yes" before exiting quietly, her heels' clicks fading down the corridor.
Outside Galley-La, Ryan's group walked along the streets.
"The ship's excellent, but the cost..." Mikita clutched her sleeve hem as she trotted to Ryan's side, muttering, "Our remaining Belly probably doesn't cover a fraction of the deposit."
"Short on funds?" Ryan didn't break stride, glancing sidelong at Mikita while toying with his sword hilt, his lips curling carelessly. "Water 7's shipbuilding industry thrives—no fewer than a thousand pirates pass through wanting new vessels before setting sail. Their ill-gotten treasures should nicely fill our coffers."
The Warlord title inherently involved "cleaning up the seas." Eliminating pirates per their demands while conveniently funding their shipbuilding—a perfect two-for-one deal.
Mikita's eyes brightened as she instantly grasped his plan, her earlier worries vanishing as her steps grew noticeably lighter.