At the very center of G-5 base, the massive inspection platform was lit up like daylight by hundreds of super spotlights.
Rehn stood beside a three-meter-high pile of gold bricks, a prop he deliberately prepared as a "background for credibility" holding a faintly fragrant document, the "Divine Decree," handwritten by Monet.
Below him stood two massive formations totaling a hundred thousand people.
On the left: the 66 "semi-finalists," each holding a gold token, their presence overwhelming.
On the right: over 30,000 "new recruits," dejected but still clinging to the last shred of pride.
"ALL, SILENCE!!!"
Rehn's voice, amplified with thunder, roared like a storm:
"I will now announce, on behalf of the supreme will of G-5, Admiral Haiiroyo, Lord Renzo, the promotion and reward decree!!"
At that moment, even the wind seemed to stop.
Dozens of global live feeds locked onto the paper in Rehn's hand.
"First: Appointment of the tournament winners!"
Rehn cleared his throat, each word striking like a hammer:
"Anyone currently holding a gold token, whether you were once a drifter, pirate, bounty hunter, or mere grunt…"
"From this moment on, your identity is officially recorded in the Marine Headquarters archives!"
"Rank, Marine Headquarters Commander!!"
"WOOOAAAH!!!"
The entire base exploded.
Those who had been pirates or lowly civilians froze at the word "Commander."
A Marine Commander!
In the Four Seas, that meant commanding a base. Even in the New World, it was a mid-to-high-level officer rank!
More importantly, this was a G-5 Commander.
"And that's not all!" Rehn piled on:
"You will enjoy G-5's super officer benefits! Starting annual salary: 50 million Beli! Bonuses not included! Independent villas within the base! Your families may relocate here with top-tier medical insurance!"
"And most importantly, your benefits is ten times that of a regular Headquarters Commander!!"
"WOOOOOO!!!"
Among the 66 monsters, some actually burst into tears.
A former pirate, once hunted and starved for half a month in the New World, clutched his gold token and sobbed like a child.
"Damn it… I don't have to run anymore… I'm a Commander now! I'm gonna eat meat! TEN TIMES THE MEAT!!"
"If you were already serving in G-5, like our Silver Light Rear Admiral Shelby, or Lieutenant Commander Falcon…"
Rehn turned with a radiant smile:
"Congratulations, you are all promoted one rank!"
"Rear Admiral Shelby, from today on, you are officially our first candidate for Vice Admiral!"
"And Lieutenant Commander Falcon, congratulations on your promotion to Commodore!!"
Shelby tried to maintain his composed, handsome profile, but his trembling hands betrayed his excitement.
Falcon, wrapped in bandages, revealed a deeply satisfied smile.
"Second: Arrangements for those eliminated!"
Rehn looked toward the right formation. His tone softened:
"Lord Renzo said, on those islands, there were no weaklings. Many of you simply lacked a bit of luck… or haven't yet learned how to live efficiently."
He waved his hand.
Several Marines pushed forward a large chest.
Inside were neatly packaged envelopes.
"This is your 'Efficiency Participation Award'!"
"Each person, 200,000 Beli cash compensation!"
"And your performance has already been recorded in G-5's talent reserve! Train hard for one month, and you'll still have three times the promotion chance of regular Headquarters soldiers!"
"200,000?! Even losers get paid?!"
"LONG LIVE G-5! LONG LIVE ADMIRAL RENZO!!"
The previously lifeless formation erupted into celebration.
For people struggling at the bottom, 200,000 Beli meant everything, enough for a wild night at the best bars in the Sabaody Archipelago, or to send home to build a new house for their family.
In a corner of the crowd, Sabo held his gold tokens, his expression complicated as he looked at Renzo on the platform, then at the frenzied soldiers around him.
He had never seen anything like this, not even at the Revolutionary Army's headquarters.
There, people relied on belief. On ideals.
But here… Sabo glanced at a fellow undercover agent, codename "Petrel."
The young man was staring at the envelope containing 200,000 Beli, his eyes showing unmistakable hesitation, almost longing.
"Petrel, wake up," Sabo whispered.
"Ah… Chief of Staff…"
Petrel snapped back, but couldn't hide the emotion in his voice.
"G-5's benefits are insane… 50 million a year, that medical insurance… If my mother back home could get treatment here…"
Sabo fell silent.
For the first time, he realized that man called Renzo wasn't just a monster in strength.
He was using the most primitive, vulgar, but effective, method to win over the hearts of the entire sea.
When a force could offer absolute safety, absolute wealth, and absolute fairness (win, and you rise)…
Ideals. Revolution.
Compared to survival and dignity…
They suddenly felt, "Too troublesome."
"So this is… the corrosive power of 'Slothful Justice'?"
Sabo clenched his fists, feeling unprecedented pressure.
If this spread, the Revolutionary Army's mission to overthrow the World Government would become exponentially harder.
Because people would think:
'If joining G-5 already makes life good… why risk bleeding for revolution?'
"Finally!!!"
Rehn raised the microphone again, pushing the crowd into frenzy:
"The finals will begin in one month!!"
"The location, 'personally' chosen by Lord Renzo!"
"The rules, improvised by my genius mind on the spot!"
He pointed to a dark-purple sphere floating in the sky, the sealed Dark-Dark Fruit.
"One of the strongest Logia fruits, along with other premium Devil Fruits, and a grand prize of 5 billion Beli, awaits you!!"
"For the next month, ALL your expenses are covered by G-5!!"
"Eat! Drink! Grow stronger with everything you've got!!"
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
The sky above Marineford trembled with roaring cheers.
On this night, countless fates were rewritten.
Pirates celebrated, cleansed of their past, now rich.
Soldiers celebrated, seeing a clear path to promotion.
And Rehn celebrated, because he saw countless new "profit streams" waiting to be harvested.