"Mom told everyone to gather inside the castle. Perospero said he has something to show Mom."
The children outside the castle all entered the cake-shaped castle. The enormous banquet hall was large enough to accommodate all the children of the Charlotte Family, not to mention that many of them were still away and hadn't returned.
"Mama mama~~ Perospero, you didn't bring the person back, so why do your two younger brothers look so off?!"
Big Mom Charlotte Linlin reclined sideways on her throne.
As she had more and more children, and with age came an ever-growing appetite, her youthful beauty had long since faded, leaving behind only a bloated body.
Yet despite her bulk, she still stood over eight meters tall—like a small giant—her presence overwhelmingly intimidating.
The future Yonko's strength had essentially been established. All that remained was to wait for the New World to continue its great reshuffling.
Failing to bring Vane back meant the mission was incomplete. If Mom happened to be in a good mood, she might only scold them a little. But if she was in a bad mood, that would be the end of it—she'd extract lifespan without hesitation.
The other sons and daughters who had entered the castle all lowered their heads. They didn't possess Perospero's strength or confidence, so even though her aura wasn't deliberately directed at them, none of them dared meet Mom's eyes.
Perospero felt a trace of panic, but he was the eldest son. As long as Big Mom hadn't entered a hunger pang episode, there was still room to salvage the situation.
"Mom, this operation went beyond our expectations. Even with Oven and Daifuku joining forces to test him, they couldn't last even a minute against Vane."
"Hm?"
Big Mom leaned forward slightly, her two large eyes revealing neither joy nor anger.
"So you're saying he's stronger than Katakuri?"
Previously, Big Mom had fallen into a misconception, believing Vane's high bounty was purely because he had angered the World Government, and that his actual strength was rather ordinary.
Perospero continued, "Though I'm reluctant to admit it, Mom, that man possesses Conqueror's Haki. Oven and Daifuku can both testify to that."
"He refused to return to Whole Cake Island with us, and the three of us simply didn't have the strength to bring him back by force."
The disparity in strength was too great. The other side also had numerous slaves as assistance. If the three of them had stubbornly insisted on dragging him back, their corpses might already be buried in the sand by now.
"No matter what his strength is, daring to refuse a marriage alliance with the Charlotte Family means he must be cast into hell."
In her normal state, Big Mom was not someone who tolerated rejection. If she weren't pregnant at the moment, she would have already stormed off—standing on Zeus, with Prometheus blazing above her head, Napoléon in hand—charging straight to his doorstep.
If she couldn't have something, she would destroy it. That was one of her principles.
But precisely because she was pregnant, Perospero truly had to persuade her more and speak on Vane's behalf.
A pregnant Big Mom couldn't easily leave Totto Land. If they were to launch a campaign against Vane, the burden would fall upon her children.
A Vane stronger than Katakuri, plus Gecko Moria who had once challenged Kaido, along with slaves of unknown strength—without Big Mom as their primary combat power, even if their crew managed to win, it would be a miserable victory.
"Mom, please don't be angry. As for Vane, he's not entirely ungrateful."
"He presented us with some gifts."
Gifts? That struck one of Big Mom's soft spots. In her childlike side, she loved gifts more than anything.
Of course, they were merely a batch of rather ordinary weapon samples in Vane's eyes—used to open up the market. But in Perospero's mouth, they became "gifts."
Big Mom: "Are they delicious sweets?"
Perospero: "They're weapons that can help us conquer many regions that produce sweets."
He clapped his hands, and chess soldier Homies carried the items inside.
Homies were creations of Big Mom's Soul-Soul Fruit ability, granting inanimate objects mobility. Those made from other people's souls were inferior, serving as ordinary guards.
Big Mom's three great Homies were created from her own soul and were immensely powerful.
"This is a flintlock that can load seven rounds. It uses specially made bullets and doesn't require separate gunpowder loading, so it can even be used in rainy weather."
Firearms would never fall out of fashion. After all, most people were fragile when facing a gun. Any of the children present could be killed by one if they were careless.
"Oh? Is that so."
Big Mom wasn't afraid of such a thing, of course. But if her pirates were equipped with these guns, even the Marines' units wouldn't match her in equipment.
"Amande."
Amande of the Longneck Tribe stepped forward from among the children. She was a swordswoman, practicing a rather abstract slow-blade style. At the same time, she was proficient with firearms.
After a brief explanation from Perospero, Amande raised the "gun."
"Candy Target!"
Perospero swung his large candy staff, erecting several candy targets fifty meters away.
Bang! Bang! Bang…
Amande fired consecutively. All seven shots struck the targets, though she failed to hit the bullseye due to unfamiliarity.
"Mom, the bullets are specially supplied, so reloading is very simple. The power is also stronger."
"Mama mama, truly excellent! And what else? I see there's something else."
The second weapon, if introduced in a short video, would require some intense background music—it was the hand-cranked Gatling.
In one minute, a single hand-cranked Gatling could fire over two hundred rounds. Without considering accuracy, one person could equal dozens.
Its power was also considerable—the candy wall created as a demonstration was shredded apart.
"Mama mama~~ I like these two gifts very much!"
After sailing the seas for so many years, Big Mom could easily see the epoch-making significance these weapons held for ordinary armies. Whether for offense or defense, they were extremely practical.
"However… why are there so few?!"
The items were excellent, but the quantity was limited.
There were only two hand-cranked Gatlings and merely a few dozen repeating flintlocks. Not enough—far from enough!
"Well… if we want more… then we can only… only buy them…"
Yes. They would have to pay.
And the most ruthless part was that selling the guns wasn't the real profit—the real money came from the bullets. Those two hundred rounds per minute were white, gleaming Belly being burned away.
Giving you something was just the first step in earning your money.
You're not some beloved relative—how could anyone give things away out of pure kindness?