While Robin was engrossed in the intelligence reports on the "White City" of Flevance, Yahn took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned to other matters.
The rest of the Revolutionary Army's reports mostly concerned branch development progress, strange happenings in the North Blue, and domestic affairs from the various kingdoms.
Other than carefully noting Corazon's whereabouts, Yahn merely skimmed through most of them for general understanding.
After all, back in those days, Dragon was constantly hounded by the World Government, barely surviving on the run. He hardly had the time or resources to build the Revolutionary Army, and could only gather a few like-minded companions along the way.
It was at Yahn's suggestion that the North Blue was chosen as the birthplace of the Revolutionary Army. Dragon then sent nearly all of their limited manpower there to aid its growth.
But to Yahn's disappointment, these so-called "forces" were, at best, on the level of Marine Headquarters field officers.
As for true heavyweights like "Tyrant" Bartholomew Kuma or "Queen of Kamabakka" Ivankov, Dragon hadn't even found them yet.
So…
That unreliable bastard. Six years have passed—other than fathering children, has he even managed to rope in a single dependable powerhouse?
Yahn cursed inwardly, frustration bubbling up.
Though his own life these past six years had been rather comfortable, whenever he thought of Dragon busying himself with "making people," he felt cheated.
With a sigh, Yahn handed the Revolutionary Army intel over to Little Gold and picked up Adjutant Hope's latest report.
Adjutant Hope… truly diligent.
In just one week, he had inspected four different Marine bases. Aside from necessary resupply time, he was either on the road to another base or already conducting inspections.
Thanks to his tireless six years of effort—working a relentless 007-style schedule—the culture of the North Blue Marines had undergone a complete shift. Law and order throughout the entire North Blue had noticeably improved.
"Well done, Adjutant Hope!" Yahn praised softly before picking up his pen. He carefully edited the report, striking out all mentions of Hope's praises toward him, along with any credit attributed to him.
After all, this report still had to be submitted to Marine Headquarters. It had to be factual, never frivolous.
And in this matter, there was no contribution from "Trafymore Yahn."
This had become one of Yahn's busiest weekly tasks as the North Blue Inspector—polishing Adjutant Hope's reports.
Meanwhile, Robin finished reading the reports on Flevance in silence.
It was clear—she had seen in its fate the same shadows that had once fallen on Ohara.
Without doubt, the "White City" of Flevance was marching irreversibly toward destruction: doomed by "Amber Lead Sickness," doomed by the hand of the World Government.
"What do you think, Robin?" Yahn placed a cup of milk tea in front of her and asked. "Do you see any way to save Flevance?"
Robin looked at the milk tea, then at the coffee in Yahn's hand, and said softly:
"Big Brother Yahn, I drink coffee too."
"Minors aren't allowed coffee. It's bad for your growth," Yahn refused flatly.
"Oh? So Brother Yahn wants me to grow well?" Robin countered with a sly look.
…
Yahn sighed inwardly.
As expected—this semi-mature girl, wandering the seas alone for six years, really understood far too much.
He tapped her lightly on the head. "Be serious."
Robin pouted, but lifted the milk tea and took a sip. The sorrow in her deep blue-black eyes eased slightly as she spoke again.
"I can tell, Brother Yahn—you already foresaw Flevance's fate, and you've tried hard to prevent it."
"Yes. Unfortunately, I failed," Yahn admitted helplessly.
"At present, there are two major obstacles. First, Flevance has always been under the World Government's surveillance. Preserving it in secret is nearly impossible.
Second, 'Amber Lead Sickness' still has no cure. A special antidote is nowhere in sight. The only known effective power is the Ope Ope no Mi/Operation Fruit, but it hasn't been found.
Now that the disease is breaking out on a large scale from accumulated toxins, the World Government will definitely erase Flevance completely—just as they did with Ohara—in order to cover up the truth."
This conclusion came not only from Yahn's memories of his previous life, but also from the Revolutionary Army's intelligence.
The only uncertainty was when the World Government would make its move.
Robin took another sip of milk tea, savoring the warmth, before she spoke.
"Perhaps, Brother Yahn… you could secretly send me into Flevance."
"Hm?" Yahn looked at her in surprise.
Robin crossed her arms across her chest like blooming petals. Suddenly, the office filled with countless eyes sprouting everywhere.
"The power you once saved, Brother Yahn—now is the time to use it to prevent another tragedy."
Almost instinctively, Yahn wanted to reject her.
After all, Robin was only a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl. She had already endured one Ohara. To thrust her into a nightmare so similar would be nothing short of torture.
But when he saw the unwavering determination in her gaze, the words of refusal caught in his throat. Instead, he asked:
"So you want to use the combined power of Sangha of the Bewitching Eyes/Witchcraft and the Hana Hana no Mi/Flower-Flower Fruit… to control enemies in large numbers, and secretly evacuate the people of Flevance?"
Robin nodded firmly.
"Yes. Even if no cure or miracle fruit exists yet, as long as people are still alive—there will always be hope."
Yahn hesitated for a long while, then slowly shook his head.
Robin, noticing, pressed on.
"Brother Yahn, this is my decision, made of my own will. I hope you won't stop me."
"No. What I mean is…" Yahn smiled, ruffling her hair.
"You are my most important treasure. I could never allow you to go to Flevance alone."
He met her eyes and added, "I'll go too—together with you."
—Treasure?
Important treasure?!
Robin's eyes widened in shock, disbelief plain on her face.
Meanwhile, Yahn had already turned to make preparations for departure.
After all, with the World Government's agents of unknown strength embedded in Flevance, there was no way he could let a thirteen-year-old Robin venture there alone.
If something were to happen to her—for the Revolutionary Army, a treasure beyond value—it would be an irredeemable loss.
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