The execution of the Pirate King had concluded, but the words Roger spoke before his death sparked heated discussion worldwide.
Although Raleigh had displayed the horrific mound of corpses composed of pirate heads immediately after the execution, the allure of untold wealth moves men's hearts.
Before the blade fell upon their own necks, many fools had no idea how to spell the word "regret."
People of all kinds still took to the seas.
Mimicking other pirates, they hoisted vaguely pirate-like flags and swaggered off toward the Grand Line.
The Great Pirate Era officially began with Roger's final breath!
That very night, Raleigh and Garp left Loguetown separately, and the ideological conflict between both sides of the Navy began to intensify.
At Navy Headquarters in Marineford, the top brass started frantically discussing how to suppress the impact brought by Roger's final words.
But all of this chaos was within Raleigh's calculations.
...
The Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
As the political center of the world, this place was filled with magnificent, towering buildings.
Everything that existed in the world could be found here.
Whether it was rare animals, beautiful slaves, or dazzling jewels and ores, they were simply too numerous to count.
However, the place that truly held the power of the world wasn't as conspicuous or gaudy as the other mansions.
A brightly lit, three-story western-style house, tightly guarded inside and out by elite CP0 agents, was where the Five Elders held their meetings.
At this moment, the room was buzzing with tense voices.
Smash!
The burly Elder with the birthmark slammed his fist on the table, cursing at the newspaper in front of him.
"Bastard! What did this guy actually want to achieve?!"
"Damn Ds! Always insisting on fighting against our clan. I want every last one of them dead!" the blond-haired Elder spat.
"Bastards!"
The bespectacled, bald Elder maintained a calm expression as he carefully wiped the Supreme Grade sword in his lap.
"Do not get agitated. Anger will only cloud your judgment. If you want to accomplish things and maintain order, you must discard personal emotions to achieve victory."
"He is right," the tall Elder with the long beard added grimly. "If this matter isn't handled properly... once Imu-sama awakens, we will be punished."
The stout Elder with the cane spoke up, his voice hard. "What is done is done, saying anything more is useless. The Roger Pirates have touched upon the ultimate secrecy. The secret of the final island and the Void Century is already known to them, so we cannot let the remnants live."
"Contact Fleet Admiral Kong," the burly Elder ordered. "Make sure the Navy treats the mission of hunting down the remaining members of the Roger Pirates as their most urgent priority."
"Have the newspapers controlled by the World Government start extensively reporting on the new generation of the Navy," the stout Elder suggested.
"We need to dilute the public's yearning for the Pirate King's treasure with stories of Marine heroes."
The sword-holding Elder adjusted his glasses, the firelight catching the lenses. "There are a few highly promising individuals in the Navy right now. One is Sakazuki. Another is Christian Raleigh. We haven't had direct contact with them before, but according to information from our Cipher Pol network, both are strict hawks within the military. I think we can send CP agents to secretly secure their personal allegiance. Its better to keep the Navy's strongest dogs firmly in our own hands."
"Starting tomorrow, extensively publicize their heroic, bloody deeds in capturing pirates," the blond Elder agreed.
"Guide public opinion, and change the public's romanticized perception of going to the sea."
"As for the actual results, we can only wait and see."
After the sword-holding Elder finished speaking, the other four exchanged glances.
As long-time colleagues who had ruled the world together for years, they naturally understood each other's thoughts.
"Agreed." "Agreed." "Agreed." "Agreed."
Unanimously approved, they put the matter behind them.
They originally thought this was just a passing gust of wind that would blow over in a few years.
But only Raleigh knew—this was a super typhoon, one that would rage for a full two decades.
This Great Era existed precisely to select Joy Boy's reincarnation from among the masses.
Until Joy Boy's reincarnation finally sets sail, this chaotic era would not end.
...
Grand Line, Enies Lobby.
At the main gate of the Judicial Island, two Marine officers were loudly reading the latest newspaper headlines to each other.
Two foolish giant clan members stood guard by the massive entrance, unable to resist discussing the officers' words.
"Oimo, this Pirate King Roger is really impressive. I think he must be as powerful as our leader," the giant said, rubbing his chin.
His companion, Oimo, immediately retorted, "How could that be? Our leader is the most powerful warrior in the world! This Roger dude is at most only as strong as him."
"But I am very interested in that Marine Vice-Admiral who cut off his head. I want to remember his name."
"Christian Raleigh."
The two giants showed indifference to the feared "Great Pirate Era" mentioned in the newspaper.
In their view, anyone in the world with any sense of fear wouldn't dare attack Enies Lobby.
After all, it was one of the World Government's ultimate symbols of authority.
Once an attack here was discovered, it would face retaliation exceeding even a Buster Call.
Moreover, as warriors of Elbaf, they were no weak minor pirates.
Believing themselves to possess the ultimate warrior bloodline, they considered themselves the strongest on these seas.
If mere pirates dared attack Enies Lobby, they could swat the invaders away without even needing the Navy's help.
...
Grand Line, a small island not marked on any nautical chart.
This was one of the World Government's secret bases for training Cipher Pol agents.
Primarily training the lethal combat division of CP9, many famous assassins had received their early, brutal conditioning here during childhood.
"Ha!"
"Hmph!"
As the children threw punches in unison, the instructor's stern voice echoed across the courtyard.
"What are you doing?! Sucking milk?!" The instructor cracked a whip. "Fists are meant to crush enemies' skulls! What can slow, soft punches like yours accomplish?!"
"Being able to join Cipher Pol and contribute your lives to the descendants of the gods is your supreme honor! If you fail in your protection duty, it would be an unforgivable mistake even through countless deaths!"
While violently correcting the children's stances, the instructor instilled strict ideologies of absolute loyalty to the Celestial Dragons.
This place was full of die-hard, brainwashed zealots.
What they trained here were to become the loyal, unthinking hounds of the World Government.
"If you are not strong enough, you are just trash! Only fit for the garbage dump!" the instructor roared.
"The gods have no need for trash, so you had better not become trash. Here, trash has only one fate—becoming training dummies!"
Young Rob Lucci remained unaffected by the instructor's harsh words.
His punching form was already perfect, striking the air with lethal power.
He had personally witnessed the gruesome fate of those "trash."
Almost every CP member who graduated from this place did so with their hands stained by those failures' blood.
No one knew why the weak deserved such treatment, nor did anyone ponder such questions, because in this base, such matters were commonplace.
Wasn't it normal for trash who couldn't serve the gods to sharpen the strong with their blood?
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