Meanwhile….In the sprawling, chaotic nerve center of his New World headquarters, a towering structure bristling with antennae and printing presses that never slept, Morgans was in his element.
The enormous bird-man a hybrid of newsprint and avian fury, was practically vibrating with glee. His sharp eyes scanned the global transmission reports, his beak curved into a grin so wide it threatened to split his face.
Every major island, every minor outpost, every pirate den and Marine base from the Calm Belt to the Red Line was buzzing with the news he had personally broken: the fall of Crocodile, the rise of the Sea Scourge, Ragnar.
"KAHAHAHA!" his laughter boomed, echoing through the cavernous room and startling a flock of little news coo. "Look at those numbers! They're eating it up! The world is finally seeing what I saw! A star! A legend in the making!"
His reverie was interrupted by a shrill, insistent beep from a private, heavily encrypted Den Den Mushi. Its shell was stark white, emblazoned with the symbol of the World Government. Morgans' grin didn't fade; it merely sharpened, turning predatory.
"Oh? What do these old fossils want now?" he mused, tapping a claw on his desk. "They should know by now that my loyalty has been purchased with a story far greater than any they could ever offer."
He answered the call. The Den Den Mushi's face remained blank, no specific personality manifesting. It was a direct data transfer line. A series of digital files began downloading. Bounty posters.
Morgans watched them populate his screen, his initial curiosity quickly morphing into uproarious, knee-slapping laughter. It was a gesture of defiance, a pathetic attempt to assert control over a narrative that had already slipped through their fingers.
"Eight hundred million for the Captain? A decent start, I suppose! Acknowledgment of his power! But the rest… oh, the fools!" He cackled as he scanned the amounts.
"Three hundred million for Miss Robin? They fear her knowledge more than his fists! And look at this! The little navigator, Nami, at one hundred and twenty million! They must have heard about her role in managing the route and financial power of the Vortex pirates and her smart mind!"
"Zoro at four hundred million… yes, word of his Haki and his defeat of a Logia-user travels fast. Kuro at two hundred, Isabella at one-fifty, Bartolomeo at one-eighty… and even sweet Nojiko at seventy million! They are casting a wide net, trying to intimidate them all!"
His eyes then fell to the bottom of the transmission list. There was no bounty for him. Morgans News. They had dared to omit him.
The insult was so profound it was almost comical. They thought to ignore him, to pretend he was still just a tool. They had no idea he was now a cornerstone of the new era.
"Fine," Morgans whispered, his voice dropping to a sinister coo. "If you will not grant me a bounty, I will grant your bounties the greatest distribution network this world has ever seen!"
He leaned back, closed his eyes, and focused. A soft, golden-white light began to emanate from his feathers, the same celestial energy that Ragnar had gifted him, the power of a Seraphim.
It was a different application, not for combat, but for communication, for dissemination. He was the Herald, and his voice would be heard everywhere.
"Heavenly Press," he intoned.
The light and ink pulsed outwards from him, not as a destructive wave, but as an invisible, instantaneous data stream.
Across the globe, in town squares, in seedy bars, on Marine bulletin boards, and in the hands of other news agencies, pristine copies of the new bounty posters for the Sea Scourge Pirates materialized out of thin air, coalescing from motes of golden light.
It was a miracle and a declaration of war rolled into one. And of course, he made sure a special, priority transmission was directed straight to the palace in Alabasta.
…..
Back in the royal hall, the casual atmosphere among the men was shattered by a sudden, silent flash of golden light. One moment, the air was empty. Next, a sheaf of crisp, new parchment posters fluttered down onto the low table between them.
"Wah! What sorcery is this?!" Bartolomeo, who had just joined them, yelped and jumped back as he saw the papers materializing out of thin air.
Ragnar didn't even flinch. A knowing smile spread across his face as he reached out and picked up the top poster.
"Not sorcery, Bartolomeo. It's our newest partner, Morgans."
He looked at his own bounty first. The photo was a dynamic shot from the battle, catching him mid-stride, golden light wreathing his fists, his expression one of utter, disdainful command. "VORTEX D. RAGNAR", it read beneath. "SEA SCOURGE". And below that, the number: 800,000,000 Berries.
He gave a grunt of approval. "A respectable opening bid. They're finally taking notice."
He then sifted through the others, his mind processing the numbers. He held up Robin's poster "NICO ROBIN", "DEVIL'S CHILD", 300,000,000 Berries. "Expected. Her price was always going to be high. They fear what she knows more than what she can do."
His eyebrow quirked slightly when he saw Nami's. "CAT BURGLAR NAMI", 120,000,000 Berries. "One hundred and twenty million…" he murmured, a flicker of surprise in his golden eyes.
"I didn't expect her to warrant this much, this soon. They must be crediting her with more of the strategic successes than I thought."
He picked up Zoro's. The image was of the swordsman standing over a fallen Smoker, all three blades drawn, his expression a mask of savage triumph.
"PIRATE HUNTER RORONOA ZORO", 400,000,000 Berries. "Four hundred million. Your work with Smoker has paid dividends, Zoro. They know you're not just a brute Swordsman anymore. They know you have Haki."
He then gathered the rest and tossed them to their respective owners. Kuro caught his with a deft hand, his poster listing him as "CAPTAIN KURO OF A HUNDRED PLANS", 200,000,000 Berries.
A faint, proud smirk touched the strategist's lips as he saw Isabella's bounty, his little sexy nurse now had a bounty. "ANGEL ISABELLA", 150,000,000 Berries.
Bartolomeo snatched his, "Devout Fanatic" BARTOLOMEO, 180,000,000 Berries, and promptly began weeping tears of joy, clutching the poster to his chest as if it were a holy relic.
"T-The World Government recognizes my devotion to Cap'n! This is the greatest day of my life!"
"Heh. Not bad for a start." Zoro just grinned, looking at his 400-million-Berry head with fierce pride.
The door to the hall opened, and the women entered, freshly changed from the hot springs. Their hair was still damp, their faces relaxed. The mood in the room instantly registered with them.
"What's all this?" Nojiko asked, her eyes falling on the papers.
"Bounties," Ragnar said simply, holding out the remaining posters.
There was a flurry of movement. Robin took hers with a graceful, unsurprised nod, her 300-million bounty a familiar weight. Nojiko gasped softly, a hand flying to her mouth as she saw her name and face valued at 70,000,000 Berries.
"Seventy million… for me? For what? Growing tangerines?"
Isabella silently handed Nami her poster before reading hers, her serene expression unchanging, but a slight softening around her eyes showed her satisfaction with these numbers.
Nami took it, her eyes scanning the information. "CAT BURGLAR NAMI - 120,000,000 Berries". For a moment, her face was a comical mask of shock, which then rapidly dissolved into a furious pout.
"One hundred and twenty million?! That's so high! Do you know how many Marines will be sent after me?! The risk-to-reward ratio is completely unbalanced! This is a disaster for my financial planning!"
"I'm a navigator, not a frontline fighter! This is totally unfair!" She continued to grumble, her brow furrowed in genuine distress, waving the poster around.
Ragnar watched her meltdown with amusement. He then stood, walked over to her, and without a word, placed a large, warm hand on top of her orange hair. He gave her a single, firm, gentle headpat.
The effect was instantaneous.
Nami's tirade cut off mid-sentence. Her shoulders, which had been tense, slumped. The furious pout vanished, replaced by a deep blush that spread from her cheeks down her neck.
She looked down, suddenly very interested in the patterns on the marble floor, a small, involuntary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The terrifying bounty was forgotten, eclipsed entirely by that simple, affirming touch.
"There," Ragnar said in a low voice for her to hear. "It's not a price on your head. It's a measure of your worth to me. And to my enemies."
He looked around the room, at his assembled crew, his swordsman, his strategist, his barrier-man, his archaeologist, his healer, his gardener, and his now-beaming navigator. Each of them held a piece of paper that declared them enemies of the world.
He smiled. It was a cold, triumphant smile.
"Let them come."