The discussion in the room had been straightforward.
Roldy laid down several absolute red lines that the Underworld Emperors and major figures were forbidden to cross. In addition, they were required to hand over 60% of their net profits.
These were intelligent men.
No one dared oppose him at a time like this.
They nodded so vigorously it was almost comical. Roldy 's name had already been spread across the seas by the World Economy News Paper. Having such a thigh to cling to was no bad thing.
More importantly—
If they didn't nod, they wouldn't leave alive.
The difference between Roldy and the World Government was simple. Many of these Underworld bosses had deep backgrounds. With their wealth and connections, they could easily trigger economic storms across the globe. For the World Government, that was troublesome.
Roldy , however, had no such concerns.
If one objected—kill one.
If a hundred objected—kill a hundred.
Economic chaos?
What did that have to do with him?
He had no vast bureaucratic machine to protect. Only himself and his four core subordinates.
As for the countless small fry who survived under his banner—he didn't care. There were always more of those on the seas.
And this was where early surrender proved valuable.
Morgans, the first to pledge allegiance, clearly held higher standing in Roldy 's eyes. Most visibly—he only needed to submit 50% of profits.
Bell felt extremely fortunate that his boss possessed such foresight.
(Though, in truth, the news business simply wasn't as profitable as arms and trafficking. That missing 10% was negligible.)
The Underworld was vast but interconnected.
Word spread quickly.
Anyone making a living in the Underworld soon learned of Roldy 's rules.
Some attempted resistance.
They were eliminated—often before Roldy even heard about it, crushed by others eager to prove loyalty.
Those who hesitated met the same fate.
Latecomers who surrendered after the initial wave were required to hand over 70% of net profits.
They earned less than before—but no longer feared being devoured by larger forces.
After careful thought, it was acceptable.
The Underworld's annual circulation remained astronomical—trillions of Berries.
Even after giving 33% to the World Government, the numbers were staggering.
And the percentages demanded from subordinates referred to net profit, not total revenue.
Even so—
The money flowing into Roldy 's hands became a number beyond comprehension.
No one knew what he intended to do with such wealth.
But one thing was certain.
Roldy —once a so-called "poor Emperor" who scraped together tens of billions in protection fees from allied kingdoms—
Had become the richest man on the seas.
Two Months Later
The Underworld stabilized.
Business resumed smoothly.
All opposition had been wiped out.
Some who had pledged loyalty attempted to manipulate their accounting.
Unfortunately for them—
Crocodile possessed unparalleled talent for finance.
To him, their tricks were childish.
It was the first time Roldy had ever acknowledged that someone else's talent surpassed his own.
Money flooded in endlessly.
The Sabaody Archipelago underwent radical reconstruction.
If it had once been the gateway to the New World—prosperous and bustling—
Now, there was no second place in the world that could rival it.
Roldy claimed an entire grove.
Using exorbitantly expensive, ultra-durable materials, he constructed a massive headquarters for his crew.
The Kingdom of Teal had been abandoned. Its geographic advantages simply couldn't compare to Sabaody.
Industries exploded in growth.
Grand auction houses.
Massive shopping festivals.
Daily financial turnover reached absurd heights.
Doing business here meant earning money even with your eyes closed.
Some Underworld magnates were already discussing land reclamation projects beside the archipelago.
To Roldy now—
Money was merely a number.
But one trade had nearly vanished from the Underworld.
Human trafficking.
Discovery meant death.
Not only the offender—
But their entire family.
This was one of Roldy 's absolute red lines.
His ruthless enforcement had angered many nobles.
Yet even the Celestial Dragons' protests proved largely ineffective.
The Five Elders refused to interfere in this matter.
As a result, slave prices skyrocketed.
Desperate fools still risked it.
Few survived long enough to collect their earnings.
The Largest Casino — Sabaody Archipelago
Crocodile sat lazily in a plush seat.
Between his fingers was a cigar worth enough to buy a thousand Choppers.
On his hand—a ring worth ten thousand.
He casually tossed out 200,000,000 Berries in chips, indifferent to winning or losing.
He had lived like this for an entire month.
Work wasn't constant. He had recruited numerous financial managers to oversee operations.
With nothing to do—
He spent Roldy 's money in casinos.
Such decadent days were deliciously sinful.
After losing all his chips, he was about to order more when—
Two uniquely dressed figures entered the casino.
The once noisy hall fell silent.
Gamblers held their breath, afraid to offend them.
Crocodile raised an eyebrow, finally intrigued.
"These idiots have terrible memories. It's only been a few months—and they dare return to Sabaody?"
"Celestial Dragons…"
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