No sooner had Ortoren finished than the king clapped his hands in delight. "Reasonable! Perfectly reasonable! Nothing in the world could make more sense than this!"
Every year he paid Heavenly Tribute to Mary Geoise, and on top of that, he still had to secretly funnel extra funds to G-5 just to ensure some measure of protection in the New World.
And that protection was never certain. The Marines might show up late, or be tied up with other missions, leaving him at the mercy of pirates. In the end, it all came down to luck—and the mood of the raiders.
If his luck turned sour, his kingdom could vanish overnight.
But with Ortoren's plan—stationing Marines directly in his country, guarding him day and night—his security would rise drastically. How could he not be thrilled?
Before Ortoren could speak again, the king leaned forward anxiously. "And how do you plan to set the troop numbers?"
Don't just use some grand title only to send a hundred-man squad. That would be nothing but fraud, and humiliating to boot.
"The number of troops depends entirely on what you can afford," Ortoren said with a raised brow. "As I've said before, when it comes to justice, the more, the better. And because of G-5's unique position, we're not bound by any fixed cap on troop size. You understand, don't you?"
The rule was simple: the more you pay, the more men I send.
Of course, in practice, G-5's forces couldn't grow without limit. Sengoku's benchmark of fifty thousand was essentially the ceiling.
But where there's a rule, there's always a workaround. His garrisons could be kept off the official books.
On paper, they'd be G-5 troops. In reality, they wouldn't count toward the roster. He could classify them as recruits in training camps, reserves, even temporary workers—easily arranged. After all, headquarters didn't pay their wages. They were funded locally. As long as the money was there, equal pay for equal work kept everything running smoothly.
Outwardly, it would look like Marine garrisons. But on his reports, he'd phrase it as "recruitment centers" and "training camps" across the region—measures to prepare for New World crises and strengthen G-5's manpower reserves. Reasonable, justifiable—no one could find fault.
And since not a single berry came from the World Government, why should they interfere?
After a pause, Ortoren went on, "Let me give you an example. Suppose you wanted two warships and a standing Marine garrison of four thousand men here. That would require an annual payment to G-5 of about seven hundred million Belly."
"Seven hundred million a year?" The king's face shifted into hesitation.
Seven hundred million Belly wasn't beyond reach—but was it worth it?
Seeing his doubt, Ortoren smiled. "This garrison won't just keep pirates from harassing your country. They'll also safeguard national security and stability—especially political stability. After all, if we're going to build a long-term partnership, it won't work if, to put it bluntly, your throne keeps changing hands."
The king immediately understood the hidden meaning and asked seriously, "So what exactly do you mean by ensuring stability?"
"Simple—ensuring Your Majesty's power remains unshaken. Let me put it clearly: while garrisons will first follow G-5's chain of command, in the event of unrest, noble uprisings, or any other crisis, they will follow your orders at once to guarantee the royal family's safety," Ortoren declared without hesitation.
At those words, the king nearly jumped from his seat in joy. His earlier hesitation had been because seven hundred million a year for four thousand Marines and two warships, just to fight pirates, didn't seem worthwhile.
But with this added assurance, it was worth every coin.
In fact, he was already considering cutting down his national army and redirecting those expenses straight to G-5. Wouldn't that be perfect?
The national army wasn't truly the king's. The entire noble system of the country had its fingers in it. Out of ten thousand soldiers, if even one thousand were genuinely loyal to the royal family, that would already be a miracle.
After all, dukes, marquises, and every noble with a title maintained their own troops. On paper, those forces were considered part of the national army.
But when trouble came, those men would protect their lords first, not the king. Only the king's direct retainers could be counted on to guard him.
Given that, it was far better to cut down the national army and let the G-5 Marines handle protection. That would reduce pirate threats while securing his throne at the same time—perfect!
What the king failed to see was that by doing so, he was merely trading the nobles' threat for G-5's. Before, his kingship depended on his ability to govern, to balance relations with the nobles, and to prevent large-scale uprisings.
But once he signed a military protection pact with Ortoren, whether he remained king or not would hinge on Ortoren's will.
Perhaps he did realize this, but decided that the danger from the nobles outweighed any risk from the Marines. After all, the Marines had their own hierarchy and wouldn't topple his regime on a whim.
Compared to the wolves within his court, he trusted the external Marines far more.
...
Ortoren spent the entire afternoon in the palace negotiating with the king. Only at dusk did the king reluctantly escort him out in person.
During that meeting, they happily sealed a military protection agreement. The king would build two small bases—one in the capital, another at the royal port—and hand them over to G-5 as "recruit training camps." Once payment was made, G-5 would station four thousand Marines and two warships there permanently, guarding both the kingdom and its royal family around the clock.
Ortoren also asked the king to spread word of his plan among neighboring rulers who were on good terms with him. Anyone interested could contact the G-5 base directly, and Ortoren would even provide personal consultations.
And it wouldn't stop at Member Nations. How many of them existed in the New World anyway? Far too few. Ortoren intended to include every kingdom in his jurisdiction, Member Nation or not.
If you paid, he'd protect you—with Marines stationed right at your doorstep.
If you didn't, then perfect—you weren't a Member Nation and had no rights anyway. He'd simply "requisition" your land on behalf of the World Government.
...
On the return voyage, Ortoren studied the documents in his hand and mused, "We've got over thirty countries in our jurisdiction. If each one has four to five thousand Marines stationed, that's what—one hundred forty, one hundred fifty thousand soldiers? Add fifty thousand directly under G-5 command, and that's two hundred thousand troops. With that, how could justice not prevail in the New World?"
Sitting nearby with a cup of coffee, Momonga frowned. "Don't you think we're overdoing it? Admiral Sengoku said fifty thousand was impressive, and you're tripling—no, quadrupling it. Can that really work?"
"It's all for justice. Admiral Sengoku will understand," Ortoren said matter-of-factly.
Once he held two hundred thousand elite Marines in the New World, Sengoku would definitely understand.
Mary Geoise might even understand.
And if they didn't? Ortoren shrugged. Then he'd just recruit more. Three hundred thousand should make them understand. If not, five hundred thousand. Or they could just give him a number—he still had his homeland outside this jurisdiction to draw from.
As long as he kept recruiting, one day, they'd understand.
"But we can't let Admiral Sengoku worry too much. So for now, we won't report this issue of troop numbers. If headquarters asks for figures, we'll only report the officially registered forces within this base. As for these so-called training camps across different countries—why bother headquarters with small matters? We should learn to ease our superiors' burdens, not add to them. Once we've built something substantial, then we'll report it. That way, it'll be a surprise—showing them just how capable and outstanding we really are," Ortoren reminded Momonga.
His plan was simple: hide it for as long as possible. Once it became impossible to hide, there'd be no point anyway.
Momonga didn't object, only changed the subject. "While you were talking with the king, Issho sent word. The last thousand reinforcements from headquarters have arrived. That makes the full five thousand elite complete."
At the mention of "elite," Ortoren couldn't help but sigh. They'd promised five thousand veterans with battlefield experience. Instead, half were raw recruits from all over the world, barely familiar with their rifles. It nearly drove him mad.
In the end, when you're out here, you can only rely on yourself.
If headquarters shows no mercy, G-5 can hardly be expected to show loyalty.
...
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