Punk Hazard, this desolate island that had been silent for countless years, had completely come to life.
BOOM—!!!
The roar of massive explosions and the thunderous clamor of machinery echoed ceaselessly across the island day and night.
Driven by the power of money, this wilderness had transformed into a massive construction site.
Kane personally oversaw the operations. In his vision, this new G-5 Base was far more than just a military fortress.
It was the embryo of an ambition.
He divided the entire project into three simultaneous phases.
First, the ground military fortress.
Utilizing the island's natural mountainous terrain, they were constructing a steel fortress that integrated defense, offense, training, and living quarters.
The outer walls stood a hundred meters high, infused with Sea Stone Powder, their thickness utterly despair-inducing.
On top of the walls, dense arrays of heavy artillery gleamed with cold metallic sheen, each firing angle meticulously calculated to tear any fleet daring to approach into shreds.
Second, the underground research zone.
The interior of the island's mountains was being hollowed out, forming a vast, hidden underground world even larger and more secretive than the surface fortress.
This would be the future site for various "inconvenient" secret research projects he didn't want the World Government to know about. For instance, studying Devil Fruits, developing new weapons, and poaching... Vegapunk.
Third, the Underwater Ghost Shipyard.
Beneath the circular seabed surrounding the island, several massive secret docks capable of hiding submarines were being constructed, becoming the fangs lurking beneath the Grand Line.
The sheer scale of this project exceeded everyone's imagination.
It was like an insatiable gold-devouring beast, voraciously consuming Kane's treasury.
In just one month.
The mountainous pile of sixty billion Berry had visibly shrunk by half.
Material costs, labor fees, equipment procurement expenses... each was an astronomical figure.
Especially the alloys mixed with Sea Stone Powder, which were more expensive than gold—it was practically burning money.
On the fortieth day.
The air in the temporarily erected command post felt heavy.
"Kane... it seems our funds are almost depleted."
Kuzan handed Kane the latest financial report.
The glaring red deficit on the report was a shocking sight.
"At this rate of spending, we'll be completely bankrupt in at most another half month."
Borsalino added gleefully from the side, his tone as irritating as ever.
"By then, we might have to delay paying the wages of those thousands of craftsmen~ How terrifying to think about~"
Sakazuki remained silent, but his furrowed brow said it all.
"Delay wages?"
Kane laughed out loud at the words.
He crumpled the report into a ball and casually tossed it into a brazier, watching it turn to ashes.
"Those two words don't exist in my dictionary."
He stood up, stretched, his joints cracking like popping beans, his handsome face showing not a trace of anxiety.
"If we're out of money, we'll go get more."
"Do I really need to explain such a simple concept to you?"
"How do we do it?" Kuzan asked curiously. "Go cry to the Fleet Admiral again?"
"Think bigger, Kuzan." Kane shot him a disdainful glance. "I've already milked the Fleet Admiral dry. If we keep going, we'll have to start squeezing the Five Elders. We need to take a longer-term view."
His gaze fell upon a figure sitting alone in the corner of the room, meditating with closed eyes.
Baron Redfield.
Since arriving on this island, the legendary pirate had remained in this self-isolated state.
He neither participated in construction nor communicated with anyone, as if he were an outsider.
A playful smile curled at the corner of Kane's mouth as he sauntered over.
"How's the recovery going, old Red? Settling into your new home alright?"
The Red Count didn't even open his eyes, his voice icy. "Thanks to you, I'm not dead yet."
"Not dead is good enough."
Kane sat down beside him and unceremoniously extended his hand.
"Where's what I asked for?"
The Red Count finally opened his crimson eyes, a trace of resignation flashing within them before he pulled out a neatly folded paper from his robe and tossed it to Kane.
"Here's the list you wanted."
He snorted coldly.
"The wealthiest individuals in the New World, legitimate or otherwise, are all on there."
Kane took the list and quickly unfolded it.
The paper was densely covered with names that carried immense weight throughout the New World.
There were notorious pirate captains, underground emperors with fortunes rivaling nations, and even several kings from Affiliated Countries famous for their extravagance and brutality.
"Not bad, old Red! You've still got the skills!"
Kane nodded in satisfaction, then pulled out a pen and swiftly wrote strings of numbers next to the names.
After finishing, he slapped the paper back against the Red Count's chest.
"Alright, your first assignment after joining up. Collect every single one."
The Red Count picked up the paper, his brow furrowing as he saw numbers reaching into the hundreds of millions.
"These figures... what are they?"
"Outstanding debts."
Kane grinned, revealing a row of white teeth.
"Since they made the list, every one of them owes our G-5 a 'Justice Maintenance Tax.' Depending on their net worth, it ranges from one hundred million to one billion."
"I don't care how you do it—robbery, theft—just get every last berry back to me."
The Red Count's fingers tightened around the paper, his mouth twitching violently.
In all his years of living, half a lifetime as a pirate, this was the first time he'd heard someone describe robbery in such refined terms.
A fucking "Justice Maintenance Tax"?
"You want me... to go alone?"
The Red Count's voice dropped low, his crimson eyes fixed intently on Kane.
"Why not?"
Kane retorted as if it were obvious.
"We're proper Navy officers now. How could we dirty our hands with this kind of thuggery? It would tarnish the Navy's glorious reputation."
"You're different. You were always a pirate. When you collect, it's just criminals preying on criminals—completely justified."
"Don't worry," Kane patted his shoulder. "Since your old ship is gone, I've had Gion prepare a new one for you. It might be smaller, but it's definitely fast enough."
"Additionally, you can keep ten percent of the money you collect as your operational funds. See? I'm quite generous as a boss, aren't I?"
Red Count: "…"
He stared at Kane's face, which was filled with an "of course" expression, and felt a surge of rage rush to the top of his head.
He, a legend on par with Roger and Whitebeard!
Now, reduced to being a mere enforcer for a Navy brat, going around the world collecting protection money?!
If this got out, would his reputation as the "Lone High Red" even survive?!
"What? Not willing?"
Kane's eyes instantly turned cold.
"Don't forget our deal. You're my man now. Isn't it only right for you to do some work?"
"Or are you no longer interested in that 'Eternal Life' fruit?"
The words "Eternal Life" doused Red Count's anger like a bucket of cold water.
He took a deep breath, clutching the "debt list" filled with humiliation tightly in his hand.
"...I understand."
He forced the words out through gritted teeth.
"That's more like it."
Kane's smile returned, bright and cheerful.
"Go early and come back soon. The base is counting on your money to eat."
With that, he hummed an unknown tune and turned to leave with Kuzan and the other two.
Leaving Red Count alone, his expression shifting uncertainly.
After a long while.
He stood up, stepped outside to glance at the bustling construction site, then looked at the list in his hand.
Finally, he transformed into a red blur and vanished into the horizon.
On this day.
All the great pirates, underground rulers, and greedy monarchs of the New World were still unaware.
A "Blood Debt Collector" who would strike fear into their hearts had officially begun his duties.