Location: Inside the Sorbet Kingdom Church
"Monkey D. Dragon."
Storm scoffed, saying the name like it was a bad taste in his mouth.
"Rather than a 'Revolutionary,' he feels more like a peasant uprising leader. The kind who talks big about freedom but vanishes when the real work starts."
Storm paced the church floor, ignoring Kuma's stricken expression.
"Think about it. As the Supreme Leader, he is completely indifferent to the lives of his most loyal commanders."
"Emporio Ivankov, Commander of the Grand Line Army, has been rotting in Impel Down Level 5 for years. Dragon ignores him."
"Ginny, Commander of the East Army, was captured, enslaved, and experimented on by the World Government until she died of a disease created by their cruelty. Dragon ignored her."
"But the moment his own son goes to sea? He rushes to Loguetown to personally protect him from a mere Marine Captain."
Storm leaned in close to Kuma.
"Is he really fighting a revolution? Or is he just playing house?"
Kuma wanted to defend his leader. He wanted to shout that Dragon had a plan, a vision for the dawn of the world. But the words died in his throat.
Because everything Storm said was an undeniable fact.
When Ginny needed him, Dragon wasn't there. When Ivankov vanished, Dragon didn't act.
"The Revolutionary Army has no guiding ideology, no concrete action plan, no territory. It's just a loose band of rebels causing trouble."
Storm shook his head and turned toward the heavy wooden doors.
"That's all I have to say. Think about it carefully, Bartholomew Kuma."
"You've protected your daughter well, but 'protection' alone cannot cure the Sapphire Scale. You can pray to Nika, consult your Bible, and ask God for a miracle."
Storm pushed the doors open, sunlight flooding the dark nave.
"But be careful. Sometimes the gods don't answer. Sometimes, they just watch your tragedy and laugh."
Location: Outside the Church
Storm stepped into the bright sunlight, letting the fresh air wash away the gloom. He needed to leave. If he stayed in there looking at Kuma's resigned face, he might have punched the giant again.
"Waaah—"
A pathetic whimper reached his ears.
Storm looked down. Next to the church entrance sat two clay statues—the ones he had casually tossed aside earlier.
"Old man," Storm warned, standing in front of the statue of Bulldog. "Don't mistake me for a nice guy. If you attack me again, I'll show you what a 'baptism from hell' feels like."
Snap!
Storm snapped his fingers. The clay shell crumbled.
"You despicable pirate!"
Bulldog scrambled to his feet, brandishing his cane. "You dared to ambush an old man?!"
"...Can't you stop being unreasonable?" Storm rolled his eyes. "You hit me first."
Ignoring the old regent, Storm moved to the second statue.
Snap!
King Bekori fell to the ground like a sack of wet flour. The moment he could move, the tyrant scrambled to his knees, pressing his face into the dirt.
"Pirate Lord! Pirate Lord!"
Bekori cried, snot and tears running down his face.
"I have money! My country has money! I can give you anything you want! Just let me go!"
Whoosh!
THWACK!
A heavy wooden cane slammed into the back of Bekori's head.
"You scum!!"
Bulldog stood over the fallen King, trembling with rage. He swung the cane again. And again.
Thump! Thump!
"You set fire to the southern towns! You burned your own people! And you still have the nerve to come back?!"
"Stop! Stop hitting me!"
Bekori curled into a ball, covering his head. "I did it for the future of the Sorbet Kingdom! Look at the Goa Kingdom in the East Blue! They have a beautiful High Town because they burned their trash in the Gray Terminal!"
"Even the Celestial Dragons praised Goa Kingdom! To make a country beautiful, you have to be ruthless! I was reforming the country!"
"So burning people alive is your 'reform'?!"
Bulldog's face turned purple. He raised the cane for a killing blow.
"Die! You trash King!"
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The old man rained blows down on the tyrant until he was gasping for breath, his strength finally failing him.
Storm stepped in.
"You said you were rich?"
Bekori, bruised and bleeding, looked up with weak eyes. "Yes... I have money... lots of money..."
"If you let me go... I'll give it all to you."
Bulldog tried to lunge again, but a tendril of clay wrapped around his leg, holding him back.
"King Bekori," Storm smiled pleasantly. "Where is this treasure kept? Do you have a secret vault?"
"My money..." Bekori swallowed hard. "It's... it's in the Palace."
"And where is the Palace?"
"It... it was destroyed by that Tyrant Kuma!" Bekori wailed.
But then, a desperate light entered his eyes.
"But my country is still here! If you help me regain the throne, I can tax the people! I can give you half the kingdom's wealth!"
Storm's smile vanished instantly. The temperature dropped.
"So, you have no money now?"
"Not now! But the people—"
"Do you know something, Bekori?"
Storm leaned down, his voice cold.
"If I want this kingdom's money, I don't need you. Even if you die, I can just take it."
Splat.
Storm stuffed a ball of clay into Bekori's mouth, silencing him.
He turned to Bulldog.
"I'm confused, old man. They said there was a 'One-Man Revolution' here years ago. Kuma overthrew this trash once already. Why didn't he kill him?"
"We old bones don't have the strength..." Bulldog sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. "It was King Kuma's decision. And before him, it was the Revolutionary Army."
"Dragon and Ivankov came here. They overthrew Bekori, freed us, and then... they left."
"They just exiled him. And now, he came back."
Storm looked at the bruised King Bekori, then at the church.
"So you just kicked the can down the road."
Storm took a deep breath and roared at the church doors.
"BARTHOLOMEW KUMA! DID YOU HEAR THAT?!"
His voice echoed across the courtyard.
"A Revolution is not a dinner party! It is not writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery!"
"It cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained, and magnanimous!"
"A revolution is an insurrection! It is an act of violence by which one class overthrows another!"
"How long are you going to be naive?!"
There was a hurried sound of footsteps from inside the church, but Storm didn't wait.
He waved his hand.
White clay surged from the ground, forming a sleek, serpentine dragon. Storm hopped onto its back, soaring into the sky.
The wind whipped his robes as he looked down at the coast. The three captured Marine warships sat beached on the sand.
Storm reached into his pocket and pulled out a Den Den Mushi. He dialed a specific number he shouldn't have known.
Pru-Pru-Pru-Pru...
Clatch.
"Moshi moshi?" A lazy, deep voice answered.
Storm grinned.
"Moshi moshi. Admiral Aokiji?"
"How would you like to buy some warships?"
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