"But why are you giving us so much grain?" Dragon asked, his tone carrying a trace of disbelief. He did not question whether Teach could produce five billion Berries' worth of supplies. As the ruler of an entire sea, commanding the vast resources of the Nightfall Pirates, such a quantity was within reach.
What truly puzzled him was logistics.
The Revolutionary Army operated mainly in the Four Seas, far from the New World. Moving such an enormous volume of grain across the ocean without attracting the attention of the Marines or the World Government seemed nearly impossible.
"That part is simple," Teach replied calmly, as if the matter required no further thought. "You have people in the West Blue. At Hairula Island, I will have the grain delivered. Your people can collect it there. As long as everything is moved within three months, the World Government will not notice."
Hairula Island was an uninhabited landmass in the West Blue, positioned close to the Calm Belt. Its isolation made it the perfect transfer point.
Teach had already arranged everything.
The Dark Council would handle the transportation. They did not need explanations. Orders were enough. Their role was clear: move the grain to Hairula Island and leave the rest.
Trade routes between the Nightfall Pirates and the West Blue had already been quietly established. The Grand Line possessed rare resources, while the West Blue offered abundance. Though the scale remained modest for now, it was steadily expanding.
Technological developments also played a role. Specialized cargo airships were nearing completion, and once mass production began, logistics would become even more efficient. Seastone inlay technology had also been mastered, but its cost made widespread naval deployment impractical. War conditions further complicated matters, as even ships capable of crossing the Calm Belt required powerful escorts. A single Sea King could destroy an unprotected vessel without warning.
Compared to ships, airships offered safety and flexibility. Investing Seastone into pirate vessels would be wasteful under these conditions.
"West Blue…" Dragon muttered, his brow furrowing. Something about this arrangement felt off.
Teach could not personally handle such operations at this time, and from his wording, others were responsible. Nelson was out of the question, as he remained tied to the Golden Sea battlefield.
Large-scale grain movement could not be concealed easily. Too many factions watched the Nightfall Pirates. The Battle Pyramid alone attracted countless observers. Any major supply shift from the New World would be noticed immediately.
Which meant the grain did not originate there.
Dragon's pupils contracted slightly as realization dawned.
If it was not from the New World, then it could only be sourced locally.
From the West Blue itself.
Only one force fit all the conditions. An organization capable of producing massive supplies, suppressing information for months, and maintaining strict coordination.
"The Dark Council," Dragon said slowly, his gaze fixed on Teach.
In that moment, several scattered pieces fell into place.
The rise of the Dark Council had always seemed too smooth, too deliberate. Its influence spread across the West Blue at an astonishing pace, embedding itself into every layer of society. It had become so dominant that people referred to it as the "underworld government" of the West Blue.
Now the truth was clear.
Behind it stood the Nightfall Pirates.
The scale of this hidden control was staggering. Without drawing attention, Teach had unified the West Blue's underworld and turned it into a cohesive force. The methods employed, the efficiency of integration, and the speed of expansion all pointed to a level of political mastery that few could comprehend.
The mysterious leader known as "Hades" was nothing more than a carefully constructed facade.
Dragon understood the implication immediately. If Teach wished, he could strangle the Revolutionary Army's development in the West Blue at any time. However, he also knew that such an action would serve no purpose. Larger forces were already in motion.
When the West Blue Alliance eventually formed, it would not tolerate the growth of the Revolutionary Army. Their presence there would become unsustainable regardless.
Even so, the Dark Council had already stabilized the region to some extent. It had replaced the ineffective authority of the Marines and restrained chaos through sheer dominance.
"ZeHahahaha! So you see it now," Teach laughed, clearly amused by Dragon's reaction.
"Dragon, you are not the only one trying to reshape this world. Pirates are changing. The Navy is changing. Even kingdoms are beginning to adapt. The only thing that refuses to change is the World Government. And even if it wanted to, it no longer has the time."
His voice carried weight, each word landing heavily.
"Overthrowing the World Government with the Revolutionary Army alone is unrealistic. And even if you succeed, do you truly believe you can stabilize the world that follows? There are too many variables, too many forces waiting to fill the vacuum."
Dragon remained silent.
He could not refute it.
Even he had doubts about the future. The Revolutionary Army's goal was clear, but the path beyond victory remained uncertain. What would replace the current system? How would order be maintained? These questions had no concrete answers yet.
Still, one conviction never wavered.
The Celestial Dragons had to fall.
That belief had been forged during his time guarding Mary Geoise, where he witnessed atrocities beyond measure. As long as that system remained, true peace would never exist.
"What will this world become?" Dragon asked quietly.
Teach's lips curled into a faint smile.
"At the very least, it cannot be worse than it is now," he said. "Eight hundred years is far too long for any order to remain unchallenged. People are already seeking change. The seeds have been planted."
Dragon exhaled slowly. He had heard enough.
"This has been… useful," he admitted. "I will act when the time comes."
His body dissolved into wind, vanishing into the night.
He had no intention of delaying. The promised resources alone were enough to reshape the Revolutionary Army's current situation.
Teach watched him leave, his expression calm.
"In that case, everything is in place," he murmured.
Dragon would not break the agreement. Not after understanding the full scope of the Nightfall Pirates' power. The cost of defiance would be too great.
Moments later, Teach's figure disappeared beneath the moonlight, heading back toward the Golden Sea.
The broader tides of the world could wait. His foundation remained the Nightfall Pirates and their growing dominion. Power had to be built steadily.
He had time.
The successful creation of the Super Gene Serum had already shifted his mindset. With Pure Gold still within reach, and other methods of extending life available, urgency no longer dictated his actions.
Even the so-called Elixir of Immortality, recorded in Ohara's hidden texts, was nothing more than an exaggerated truth. It could prolong life, but it could not elevate existence the way the serum could.
With Baccarat's ability, locating the Millennium Dragon would only be a matter of time. As for refining the elixir itself, the most likely candidate remained the Drum Kingdom, with Dr. Kureha at its center.
Longevity removed the pressure of haste.
Teach was willing to wait, to observe, and to act only when necessary.
Power remained the only constant.
And at the top of this world, only one throne existed.
The World Government would have to fall.
Meanwhile, the New World continued to shift.
The Nightfall Pirates expanded relentlessly, their fleet swallowing territory with overwhelming force. In just three months, they had already absorbed more than twenty islands, completing a significant portion of Teach's directive.
Resistance was minimal. Most forces chose submission after a single defeat.
On one such island, a crowd gathered around a central square.
Mobius stood atop the head of a massive python, his arms crossed, his expression cold. The creature beneath him stretched over fifty meters, its crimson eyes scanning the surroundings.
Beside him stood Voss, equally imposing, mounted on another giant serpent.
Their presence alone was enough to silence the crowd.
At the front stood their opponent.
"You know the rules," Mobius said indifferently, his gaze fixed on the man below.
"Yes," the man replied, his voice steady despite the pressure. "If I lose, we submit to the Nightfall Pirates."
His name was Slomka, captain of the Giant Pirates, a Paramecia user with a bounty of 300 million Berries.
His ability allowed him to grow in size, increasing both mass and strength proportionally.
This island belonged to him.
And now, it would be decided in a single duel.
Slomka clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain steady. The invisible pressure radiating from Mobius made even breathing difficult.
"Gigantification… Giant!"
His body expanded rapidly, towering upward until he reached his full height of fifty meters. The ground trembled beneath his weight as his massive form cast a shadow over the square.
Without hesitation, he swung his fist downward.
The air roared.
The crowd scattered.
Yet Mobius did not move.
A faint glimmer flickered within his eyes.
In the next instant, Slomka froze.
His fist halted mid-air, mere meters from its target. His expression went blank, his consciousness sinking into an unseen abyss.
Seconds passed.
Then his body shrank.
He collapsed onto the ground, drenched in sweat, gasping as if he had just fought for his life.
No one understood what had happened.
Mobius simply turned away.
"I lost," Slomka whispered, his voice trembling with fear.