Before long, every trace of the Demon Warder had vanished from the water, swallowed by the horizon alongside those four figures whose fates they held so dearly.
Only the rolling ocean swells, heaving and crashing against the shore, bore witness to the titan presence that had stood there moments earlier.
As wave after wave washed across the strand, the onlookers finally shook themselves from their daze. Under the old mayor's direction, the crowd slowly began to scatter.
Thud!
Dadan, who had been watching Drake and the boys depart, suddenly crumpled to the earth, the heavy impact kicking up a small plume of dust.
"Dadan!" Makino hurried over in a panic, her brows knit in deep concern. She had sensed that something was off with the mountain bandit ever since the ship prepared to sail. "Are you alright? Is something hurting?"
"You..."
Makino froze mid-sentence. At some point, Dadan's face had become completely drenched in tears, weeping uncontrollably like an abandoned child.
"Er... Miss Makino, our boss is fine. She just needs a minute to herself," one of the bandits offered sheepishly from nearby. "It was like this last time too..."
"Whether it was Ace setting sail, or that idiot Luffy heading out, she always has to have herself a good bawling fit like this."
"You worthless little bastard!" Dadan's tear-streaked face twisted into pure fury. Lunging forward like an enraged bear, she booted the talkative lackey clean through the air.
"Get the hell out of here! Who's crying?! I didn't shed a damn tear!"
"And that goes for the rest of you—scram! Get back to the hideout, all of you!" she roared at the top of her lungs, veins bulging along her neck.
The bandits exchanged swift, knowing glances and scrambled into the brush like startled rabbits.
As they fled, however, one of them cast a meaningful backward glance toward Makino.
Our boss... we leave her in your hands!
That was the silent plea written in his eyes—a sentiment shared by every man in the family.
"Look at that, Makino. Why would I ever cry?" Dadan sniffled fiercely, wiping her face with a sleeve. "It's just those runts setting off again. Why on earth would I weep over something so trivial? Right...?"
"Uh..." Makino blinked, the word "yes" almost slipping out on instinct, before she quickly caught herself and shook her head. "Right. Why would you cry?"
"Not at all. Definitely not."
By now, not only Dadan's collar, but her cuffs and chest were visibly soaked through with fresh tears—the undeniable evidence of a massive crying jag.
Yet at a fragile moment like this, Makino knew better than to point it out. How could the woman's stubborn, tender heart ever bear the humiliation?
As the sun climbed higher, their silhouettes stretched long across the sand before gradually solidifying under the midday light.
Along the quiet shore, Dadan and Makino sat side by side, murmuring softly to each other, occasional bursts of warm laughter drifting on the breeze.
A short distance behind them, several round heads cautiously poked out from the tall coastal grass. The bandits exchanged fond, relieved smiles.
"Looks like the boss is going to be just fine."
"Yeah, leaving her to Miss Makino was the right call."
"With someone as gentle as Miss Makino around, we can finally breathe easy... Alright! Let's head back and cook up a massive feast to surprise the boss!"
"When she gets home and sees a lavish spread waiting for her, she'll definitely put those brats out of her mind and eat until she bursts..."
"Hell yeah! Let's do it! Only... do any of you actually know how to cook?"
The bandits: "..."
That very evening.
Inside Makino's shuttered tavern, three figures sat quietly beneath the warm glow of the lantern.
Makino, Dadan, and Mayor Woop Slap.
"Just today, the King promulgated a sweeping royal decree, thoroughly abolishing the nobility," the mayor announced, taking a hearty swig of the cold ale Makino had just drawn for him.
"From this day forward, our Goa Kingdom will no longer harbor those so-called highborn aristocrats! This tears out the root of all our troubles in one stroke."
"At first, I thought such a drastic reform was far too reckless. Stripping those high-and-mighty nobles of their hereditary status was bound to ignite fierce resentment and violent rebellion."
"I was certain it would plunge the entire kingdom into horrific civil war." A look of profound awe crossed the mayor's weathered face. "Yet that paramount obstacle was swept away without breaking a sweat."
"And that whole system of joint governance! Truly magnificent!"
"Truth be told, I was worried sick about how this would play out. But looking at it now, everything has been settled cleanly!" The mayor grew increasingly animated, his voice trembling with sheer excitement.
Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke, only for him to suddenly realize that his sole audience of two had leaned in close together, giggling over some private joke of their own.
"Hey! Are either of you listening to a word I'm saying?!" The old mayor glared indignantly, thoroughly slighted. "What I'm discussing is the landmark decree rolled out under the authority of the New World Government! Showing such indifference is utterly disgraceful!"
Dadan turned her head, curling her lip in sheer disdain. "Who gives a damn about politics?"
Turning back to Makino, she eagerly picked up the thread of their previous conversation: "Let me tell you, Makino—back when that little brat Ace was just learning to walk..."
"Ahem, cough! And what if I told you the one who enforced every bit of this... was Sabo?!" The mayor cleared his throat loudly, delivering the remark with calculated nonchalance.
Dadan froze mid-breath, the childhood anecdote dying on her tongue.
Makino's delicate eyes went wide as she stared unblinkingly at the old man. "Mayor, what happened? Please, tell us everything!"
"Yeah, old man, hurry up and spit it out!" Dadan barked, leaning across the counter.
Reminiscing about the boys' childhood antics was comforting, but what they craved above all else was news of how they walked the world today.
The past could be revisited at any leisure, but fresh tales of the boys' exploits stirred an intoxicating, almost fanatical thrill within their hearts!
The mayor surveyed the pair with wry resignation, especially Dadan. The moment she heard Sabo's name, it was as if a switch had been flipped.
She had completely shed her aloof disdain, leaning forward with impatient, burning eyes.
Knowing their hearts, he didn't drag the suspense out any longer, laying bare the intelligence he had gathered from the capital.
It turned out that whatever Sabo had done during his brief detour, the entire Goa Kingdom had undergone an earth-shattering transformation within hours.
Hereditary noble privileges were eradicated, accompanied by a public proclamation declaring all mortals under heaven equal.
The nation belonged to all its people; the world belonged to all mankind!
Every voice held the sovereign right to be heard.
The aristocrats who dared stage an armed revolt were suppressed ruthlessly and thrown into deep dungeons without a shred of mercy.
And the one who had personally led the purge was none other than their monarch, King Sterry!
Sabo's foster brother himself.
Furthermore, the crown's absolute authority had been drastically curtailed through the establishment of a Joint Governing Council!
This council was composed in equal measure of domestic representatives and delegates appointed by the New World Government.
The assembly existed specifically to oversee and, if necessary, impeach the reigning monarch—while also holding the exclusive constitutional authority to elect a successor.
In the span of a single day, King Sterry—who had historically treated the lives of commoners like dirt beneath his boots—had undergone a total, miraculous conversion.
Whatever task fell to his desk, he threw himself into it with sweating diligence.
He had no alternative. Before departing, Sabo had left him with a single parting decree:
"If you prove unfit to sit upon this throne, an honorable sovereign devoted to the realm and its people will take your place!"
And that promise held not a single shred of jest.