After dealing with the Red-Haired Shanks, Kane surveyed his surroundings.
All he could see was devastation.
The G-5 Fortress, once the gateway to the New World, along with the twelve brand-new warships, had now been reduced to a pile of shattered debris.
Half lay silently at the bottom of the dark sea, while the other half was frozen within the vast ice field created by Kuzan.
"Ah, la la... This is troublesome."
Kuzan scratched his fluffy, curly hair, looking at the enormous ice field he had created with a troubled expression.
"Yeh~ Now we don't even have a place to drink tea. Our salaries will probably be docked until the next century, right?"
Borsalino adjusted his sunglasses, sighing in his uniquely sleazy tone.
Only Sakazuki remained, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot.
The base was gone, the warships were gone.
How was he supposed to enforce his absolute Justice on this sea of sin now?
The G-5 soldiers, meanwhile, stood on the endless ice like a group of abandoned orphans, looking at each other in confusion.
Their home was gone.
But more important than losing their home...
The toll station that paid them and allowed them to live like decent people in the New World was gone!
"Bastards!!!"
A deafening roar shook the entire ice field.
Kane's eyes were bloodshot, and a terrifying, violent aura radiated from his entire body.
It wasn't fighting spirit.
Nor was it killing intent.
It was heartache, emanating from the deepest depths of his soul!
That was the "New World's First Toll Station" he had painstakingly built! His money-printing machine at sea! His future personal treasury!
And just like that, it was gone?!
How was this any different from burning money right in front of him?!
"Kane, calm down. It's just a base..." Kuzan tried to step forward and console him.
"Shut up!"
"This isn't a base!"
"This is money! My money! All of our money!"
Kane pointed at the ruins, roaring in anguish:
"Do you have any idea how much 'Justice Maintenance Tax' we lost during these two days and one night of fighting?!"
"One billion?! Or ten billion?!"
Sakazuki: "..."
Kuzan: "..."
Borsalino: "..."
Seeing Kane in his frenzied state, the three wisely chose to remain silent.
After venting for a while, Kane's breathing gradually steadied, but the ferocity in his eyes only grew more intense.
"It seems it's time to find a new home."
Kane had someone bring a massive map of the New World and spread it directly on the ice.
"Where to?" Sakazuki walked over with a grim expression. "The territories in the New World have long been carved up by the major pirates. Setting foot anywhere carelessly will only trigger an all-out war."
"War?"
Kane sneered, his slender fingers slowly tracing across the cold map.
"Sakazuki, you need to understand one thing."
"We are the war."
His finger finally stopped on a point.
It was a nameless, desolate island on the map, located a hundred nautical miles deeper into the New World from the original site of the G-5 Branch.
"Right here." Kane pressed his fingertip down firmly.
The three leaned in to look.
"Punk Hazard?" Kuzan raised an eyebrow. "That's a magnetic-less deserted island, isn't it? There's nothing there except primitive jungles."
"What isn't there now doesn't mean it won't exist in the future."
A gleam of ambition shone in Kane's eyes.
Only he knew how strategically vital this godforsaken island would become in the future.
It controlled several key shipping routes at the entrance to the New World, would become the World Government's future research base, and most importantly...
It had no magnetic field, offering natural concealment, and was sufficiently distant from both the Holy Land Mariejois and Marine Headquarters!
"Building a base there?" Borsalino stroked his chin, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "Sounds... expensive~"
The moment money was mentioned.
The previously bold atmosphere instantly deflated.
Kane's expression froze.
He remembered the 50 billion Berry he'd acquired from the Germa Treasury.
Originally, he had intended to use this money as secret funds to purchase Devil Fruits on the black market and equip his elite troops.
But if they had to build from scratch on a barren island like Punk Hazard, constructing a war fortress so formidable that even Roger would break a few teeth trying to attack it...
Fifty billion?
That wouldn't even make a dent!
Just the annual maintenance cost for Marine Headquarters ran into millions of Berry, let alone building a super fortress capable of housing tens of thousands of elite troops from the ground up.
They still needed to purchase equipment, conduct research, recruit Vegapunk (that would come later), maintain private soldiers...
Money.
Money!
It all came down to fucking money!
Kane stared at the nautical chart, his mind calculating so furiously it seemed about to smoke.
If they were going to do this, they had to go all out. He wasn't building just a branch - he was building his "second headquarters"! An independent kingdom existing outside the World Government's system!
"Fifty billion isn't enough."
Kane looked up, his eyes as fierce as a convict freshly released from Impel Down's sixth level.
"This pittance isn't even enough to build a toilet!"
He grabbed the nautical chart and roughly stuffed it into his coat, turning to face the vast, resource-rich sea.
A smile spread across his lips that would make any merchant ship or pirate ship tremble with fear.
"Where are we? The New World!"
"What's the New World never short of? Filthy rich pirates and those blood-sucking nobles from the Affiliated Countries!"
His gaze fell precisely on Redfield, who was nearby feigning sleep while recovering from his injuries.
"Old Red, stop playing dead." Kane kicked him.
Redfield's eyes snapped open, a flash of murderous intent appearing in his crimson pupils before he forcibly suppressed it. "What do you want, Base Commander?" he asked coldly.
"Consider this your employment test. Go prove your loyalty."
Kane pointed toward the sea, his tone brooking no argument.
"Who's the richest in these waters? Whose treasury is the fullest? I don't care if they're great pirates, underground emperors, or kings of some country."
"Compile a complete list of their names!"
"I want the entire New World to know that starting today, the G-5 Demolition Team is officially open for business!"
"Anyone who doesn't want their home demolished better pay up - every last Berry!"
Redfield's mouth twitched violently.
He'd seen arrogant people in his life, but never anyone this arrogant.
Fresh from a life-and-death battle with wounds still healing, his mind was already set on robbing the entire world?
"I'll give you the list," the Red Count closed his eyes again and snorted coldly. "Just... don't bite off more than you can chew."
"No need to worry about that. My appetite has always been excellent."
Kane grinned, then abruptly turned around.
His expression shifted in an instant.
One moment, he was a ruthless villain ready to plunder the world.
The next, his handsome face was instantly filled with grief, grievance, helplessness, and despair.
His eyes reddened visibly at an alarming speed, his lips trembling slightly as if he might burst into tears at any moment.
This Sichuan opera-style face-changing speed left Gion utterly dumbfounded.
"Gion!"
Kane's voice carried just the right amount of a choked sob—hoarse and sorrowful enough to break hearts and bring tears to listeners' eyes.
"Yes! Yes! Brother Kane!" Gion snapped to attention instinctively, saluting.
"Immediately! Right now! At the fastest speed possible!"
"Get me Fleet Admiral Kong on the Den Den Mushi!"
"Yes!"
Though completely baffled by Kane's intentions, Gion still tremblingly produced the golden Den Den Mushi representing the highest communication authority and dialed the Marine Headquarters' dedicated line.
Buru buru buru... Buru buru buru...
Click.
The Den Den Mushi's expression instantly turned stern, mimicking Fleet Admiral Kong's naturally authoritative face.
A stern voice came through: "This is Marine Headquarters." Kong speaking."
Kane took a deep breath.
When he spoke again, he was already sobbing uncontrollably.
"Fleet Admiral..."
"WAAAAAH—!!!!"
An earth-shattering wail echoed through the Fleet Admiral Office at Marine Headquarters via the Den Den Mushi.
"G-5... The G-5 base..."
"It's... it's gone—!!!"
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