Supported by Trebol, Doflamingo walked aside with a gloomy expression to sign the "Seven Warlords of the Sea Recruitment Agreement."
Two figures stood up from the back row, one after the other.
Moria and Crocodile.
Compared to Doflamingo's public beating for his arrogance, these two clearly understood better what it meant to "recognize the times and be a hero."
Moria was very straightforward. Without even haggling over the price, he directly ordered his subordinates to bring in a full thirty billion Berries worth of cash and jewelry from his ship.
"Kishishishi... It's just money. I have plenty of trophies stockpiled on Thriller Bark." Moria flipped through the contract, his fingers—several times larger than an average person's—holding a pen, the tip hovering over the signature line. "But I have one condition."
"Speak," Kane said without even lifting his eyelids.
"I want the World Government to provide all intelligence on Kaido!" Moria suddenly raised his head, his pale face with heavy makeup revealing an unusual, relentless ferocity.
The surrounding pirates gasped. Daring to provoke Kaido—this onion-head was also a madman!
"Kaido, huh..." Kane stroked his chin.
"He's currently hauling bricks day and night in the quarry of Wano Country. You want his intel? For the sake of thirty billion, I'll give it to you for free."
Moria was stunned.
He froze for a full three seconds, his eyes, originally filled with killing intent, instantly widening.
"...What?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," Kane raised an eyebrow. "He's working for me."
Moria's composure completely shattered at that moment!
His face was filled with absurdity, shock, and the bewildered collapse of his worldview. The great enemy he had dreamed of defeating day and night was working for this Navy Admiral?! What was wrong with this world?!
He took a deep breath, said not another word of nonsense, gritted his teeth, and quickly signed his name.
Can't afford to mess with him, absolutely can't afford to mess with him!
In contrast, Crocodile was the quietest one in the room.
He stepped forward, greeted no one, directly opened the contract, and read it from beginning to end.
He only pointed out three vaguely worded clauses to Kane for clarification, then decisively signed, paid, his slicked-back hair impeccably neat—the entire process took no more than ten minutes.
"That's it?" Kane was somewhat surprised.
Crocodile puffed on his cigar, slowly exhaling a plume of blue smoke, his gaze sinister and clear.
"Too much talk isn't worth the money."
Kane gave him another look.
It had to be said, these future Seven Warlords of the Sea, though not yet fully matured, already possessed a sharp, ambitious aura far surpassing the riffraff outside.
In the interval as the three "big clients" completed their procedures one after another, the remaining thirty-plus pirates had been sorted out. Very few could pay up; those who couldn't were all escorted onto warships by Sakazuki and his men, bound for Impel Down.
The conference hall suddenly became much emptier.
Kane leaned back in his chair, looking at the list in his hand: Doflamingo, Moria, Crocodile... still four spots short.
Just as he was calculating how to create a bit of "scarcity marketing" for these last few slots to make another hefty profit...
Arrogant howls echoed from outside the door.
"Move aside, move aside, move aside! Do you know who my son is?!"
Bang!
The door was violently slammed open.
A short woman wearing sunglasses and dressed in gaudy clothes barged in recklessly.
Behind her followed a grotesquely obese man as massive as a mountain of flesh, with two golden braids. The fat man sported a crescent-shaped mustache identical to Whitebeard's, holding an oversized naginata that looked completely disproportionate to his body. He sniffled with two long streams of snot, his eyes vacant as he glanced around aimlessly.
"I am the woman Whitebeard Newgate loved most in his life! This child is his flesh and blood—Edward Weevil!"
Miss Bakkin rushed to the center of the conference hall, screeching shrilly, "For us mother and son to even consider this Seven Warlords of the Sea position is us doing the Navy a favor!"
Kane's pen-twirling hand abruptly stopped.
He slowly raised his eyes, his gaze settling on the abnormally burly, deformed child who was only eight years old.
Bakkin completely failed to notice the strange atmosphere and continued spewing saliva with great effort: "Admiral! With my son's connection, the Whitebeard Pirates' deterrent power is the World Government's best security fee! The application fee should be waived by you, and you should even pay us instead!"
Weevil sniffled his snot, raised his enormous naginata, and foolishly echoed, "Mom's right! Hurry up and give us the spot, or I'll smash this whole place to pieces!"
The air fell silent in that instant.
Sitting in the corner, Mihawk slightly opened his eyes, his fingers already resting on the hilt of his Black Blade, Yoru.
Borsalino adjusted his yellow-tinted glasses, letting out a drawn-out, "Oh yoyo... how terrifying~ ne."
But none of them moved.
Because an intangible chill was spreading from the head seat.
Kane looked at the drooling Weevil.
Uncontrollably, his mind flashed back to a few days ago outside Pangaea Castle, where Zephyr had grabbed him by the collar, tears streaming down his aged face, filled with grief and indignation.
In the original course of fate, it was this giant infant with low intelligence but monstrous brute strength who would attack Zephyr's training ship in the future!
He severed one of Zephyr's arms! Slaughtered all the young recruits aboard who harbored dreams of Justice! Becoming the final straw that crushed Zephyr's faith!
Zephyr had already lost enough.
Kane had no intention of letting him lose anything more.
More importantly...
This woman actually wanted to freeload?
"Admiral Kane? Are you listening?" Bakkin, thinking the other party was intimidated by Whitebeard's name, grew even more arrogant. "I'm telling you, as long as my son is willing—"
"Shut up."
Two words.
Not loud, not soft.
But Bakkin's vocal cords seemed choked by something, the second half of her sentence forcibly stuck in her throat.
The temperature in the entire conference hall plummeted.
Doflamingo, who hadn't finished signing his contract yet, looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his cracked sunglasses.
Moria stopped writing.
Crocodile extinguished his cigar.
The three future Seven Warlords of the Sea all keenly sensed a certain lethal danger.
Kane stood up from his chair.
"Everyone, come with me."
Bakkin didn't understand why, but pushed by that intangible pressure, she could only drag Weevil along as she followed.
The pirates in the conference hall exchanged glances, then surged out as well.
Central Square of the G-5 Branch.
On the vast training ground, thousands of Marines were engaged in their daily drills. Upon seeing Kane emerge, they all halted their movements and saluted in unison.
Kane walked to the center of the square and stood still.
He raised his head and glanced at the sky.
Not a cloud in sight, clear and blue as if washed clean.
"Not bad," he said. "Good weather."
Then he raised his right hand.
Everyone in the square witnessed what happened next.
Kane's palm opened toward the sky, his fingers slightly curled.
The power of the Storm Fruit activated in silence.
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