In the Holy Land, Mary Geoise, inside the Room of Authority. This was the pinnacle of the world, the absolute center of power that decided the life and death of countless individuals. Five figures, some sitting and some standing, silently watched the terrified Den Den Mushi on the table in the center of the room. The air was as heavy as the deep sea, enough to crush any mortal who dared to intrude.
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, holding his long katana, spoke slowly. Each word seemed as if it had been pulled from an ice cellar. "Wave Guiding King, Iron Kyle. How do you know who we are?"
The voice on the other end of the Den Den Mushi was tinged with a playful nostalgia. "Well, back at God Valley, my good brother Saint Saturn told me himself."
At these words, the temperature in the room seemed to drop by ten degrees. The other four gazes of absolute authority turned in unison to pierce the figure leaning on a cane, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn. Saturn's eye twitched violently, his face a mask of astonishment that screamed, I did not, I would not, do not speak such nonsense! When had he ever become sworn brothers with a mere pirate? During that bloody battle at God Valley, he had wanted to grind every last member of the Rocks Pirates to dust.
A light chuckle came from the Den Den Mushi, perfectly interrupting the silent interrogation. "Just kidding, don't take it so seriously." Kyle's tone became lighter. "Honestly, I was already showing mercy when I didn't cut that troublesome old man down with one slash back then."
Saturn's face instantly shifted from pale white to furious black, the veins on the hand gripping his cane bulging from the pressure.
"Actually, Rocks told me," Kyle's voice became distant again, as if reminiscing about a glorious era. "He said he'd been in and out of Mary Geoise seven times. He even mentioned playing with Imu in the Room of Flowers."
This sentence was like a thunderclap from the heavens, exploding within the Room of Authority. The name "Imu" was an absolute taboo. For the first time, undisguised horror and a chilling killing intent appeared on the faces of the Five Elders. The very air solidified, and an invisible pressure made the entire room tremble slightly.
Kyle, however, seemed oblivious to the world-burning rage on the other side of the Den Den Mushi and sighed to himself. "Speaking of which, I still admire Rocks. He wasn't after treasure or fame… he just wanted to overturn this whole world. That guy was a true pirate."
A deathly silence filled the Room of Authority. The Five Elders said nothing for a long time, their rage like a volcano on the verge of erupting, yet forcibly suppressed by a deeper, colder rationality.
After a long while, Saint Marcus Mars, with his long white beard, spoke in a tone devoid of any emotion. "Iron Kyle, we have investigated all of your information." His voice came through the Den Den Mushi, betraying no feeling. "Your existence poses an unprecedented threat to the world order. But at the same time, we admit that completely eradicating you would require an unbearable cost."
It was a concession.
"Let bygones be bygones," Saint Nusjuro interjected concisely. "Your destruction of Marineford can be considered a 'spur' to the Marines."
Saint Topman Warcury, with his arms crossed, spoke in a deep, bell-like voice. "We can revoke your bounty and allow you to take Gol D. Roger's remains for burial."
Finally, Saint Saturn suppressed the anger in his heart and stared at the Den Den Mushi. "The World Government is creating a new system to balance the increasingly chaotic seas. A kind of… 'legitimate pirate' who can legally plunder, possess a private army, and be recognized by the government." He paused, then threw out the olive branch that would drive any ambitious person mad. "We call it the 'Seven Warlords of the Sea.' Iron Kyle, we invite you to become the first Warlord. You will gain supreme privileges and become a cornerstone in maintaining the world's balance."
They were attempting to put a golden chain on an untamable beast and turn it into a guard dog.
On the other end of the Den Den Mushi, Kyle fell silent. Just as the Five Elders thought he was weighing his options, a voice, three parts playful and seven parts mocking, rang out.
"Daga, Kotowaru!"
"But I refuse!"
The other end of the Den Den Mushi was enveloped in a silence more oppressive than any before. Kyle could almost picture the gloomy expressions on the faces of those five old men.
Finally, Saint Saturn's voice rang out again. This time, there was no pretense of recruitment, only a chilling threat. "Iron Kyle, it seems you still don't understand your situation. The captain's sins are often paid for by the crew. Though the Roger Pirates have disbanded, the whereabouts of every single one of them are under our surveillance. 'Dark King' Silvers Rayleigh, 'Demon Heir' Douglas Bullet, and those still-weak apprentices… Do you really think we can't find them?"
However, what answered them was a short, absurd chuckle. "Heh." Kyle sounded as if he had just heard the funniest joke of the century. "Tell me, have your brains rusted from sitting in Mary Geoise for too long? Have you misunderstood something? The Roger Pirates disbanded. They didn't die."
"Or rather…" Kyle's tone suddenly shifted, the arrogance hidden beneath his calm demeanor now fully exposed, as sharp as a drawn sword. "...do you want to see with your own eyes what we look like when we reassemble?"
Within the Room of Authority, the pupils of the Five Elders suddenly contracted. Reassemble? That legendary pirate crew whose mere existence was a thorn in the side of the World Government? That group of monsters who conquered the Grand Line and reached the Final Island? If those monsters truly reunited because of their coercion… they dared not imagine the consequences.
The offensive and defensive positions had instantly reversed. The negotiations had reached a stalemate.
Kyle broke the suffocating silence, clearly bored with the conversation. "Listen, old-timers," his voice returned to calm but carried an undeniable resolve. "I'll lay it all out for you. I haven't been to Laugh Tale, I have no interest in the hundred years of blank history you're hiding, and I couldn't care less whether the 'D' clan lives or dies. Everything I do is not to inherit someone's will, nor is it for power or wealth." He paused, then said each word distinctly, "I only do what I want to do."
"It's simple, isn't it? So, put away your condescending deals and your pathetic threats. Now, listen carefully. These are not my terms. This is a notification."
"First, I will take Captain Roger's remains."
"Second, I will kill Celestial Dragons whenever I see them. Whether it's on the Grand Line or in Mary Geoise."
"I want both, and I want you to watch helplessly, unable to do anything about it."
These words were no longer arrogant; they were an open trampling of the world's highest authority.
"Want to kill me?" Kyle's voice took on a hint of a smile, the joyful smile of a hunter seeing his prey. "You are welcome anytime. All five of you can come at me. I have no objections. In fact, don't wait. I will personally… come to Mary Geoise to find you."
The words fell.
Click—
The connection was cut. In the attic, silence returned. Kyle slowly walked to the window, his gaze passing over the layers of the crowd below, finally resting on the cold, empty execution platform. The noise from the square seemed to drift away from him. In his golden pupils, the playfulness and killing intent from his confrontation with the Gorosei had faded, leaving only a deep, complex emotion.
He remembered many years ago, on the deck of the Oro Jackson, the man in the straw hat would gulp down rum and then shout at him with his characteristic loud voice:
"Kyle! Don't always frown! Come on, smile! We're going to be the freest people on this sea!"
Freedom, huh…
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