The clamor and joy of the wedding eventually faded, settling into a warm memory as time marched on. Two more years passed since Keel's farewell at Baltigo.
For Aaron Kyle, these two years were the most peaceful he had experienced since coming to this world, and also the most boring. The monstrous waves created by the battle at Mary Geoise had surprisingly calmed down after the World Government issued a transparently flimsy announcement. There was no vengeful Buster Call, no widespread manhunt, and not even a noticeable increase in Marine patrols around the Sabaody Archipelago. It was as if the world had collectively decided to forget that night had ever happened.
Under Aaron Kyle's direction and Caron's precise management, the vast network of global underground industries entered a state of hibernation. They were like colossal beasts lurking in the deep sea, retracting their claws and waiting silently for the command to rise and stir the seas once more.
The Grand Line, of course, remained as lively as ever. Rookie pirates swarmed into the great sea like a school of migrating fish, each crew chasing their own dreams and ambitions. But their chaos did not touch the Sabaody Archipelago. This island was the final stop in the first half of the Grand Line, the only gateway to the New World. Every day, countless pirate ships docked here to be coated and resupplied for the journey ahead.
Yet, strangely, this once-lawless hub of chaos had become the most "peaceful" harbor on the entire route. Over time, an unwritten rule had taken root in the minds of every pirate who set foot on the island: on the Sabaody Archipelago, you do not draw your weapon without good reason.
The reason was simple: the island belonged to that man. The Wave Guiding King, Aaron Kyle. No one was foolish enough to test what would happen if they caused trouble on his turf. After all, becoming fertilizer for the Yarukiman Mangroves was not a very glamorous way to die.
"You bastard! What are you looking at?! I swear, you look at me one more time and I'll gouge your eyes out!"
Outside a tavern in Area 24, a rookie captain fresh from the North Blue, already boasting a bounty of 30,000,000, shouted at a burly, scar-faced man.
The burly man just grinned, flashing a mouth full of gold teeth. His right hand was already resting on the handle of the large axe strapped to his waist. The atmosphere inside the tavern instantly froze. Patrons stopped their conversations, and the air grew thick with tension.
Suddenly, the tavern door was kicked open with a loud "Bang!" A man dressed in a sharp black suit and sunglasses strode inside. He didn't even glance at the two men who were seconds away from fighting. Instead, he walked directly to the bar and tossed a gold coin onto the counter.
"Boss, two glasses of rum. Have them delivered to the west entrance of the 'Forge,' number three."
After giving his order, he slowly turned around, his sunglass-covered eyes scanning the two pirate captains. "Looking for a fight?" his voice was flat, but it seemed to drop the temperature in the room by several degrees. "This island welcomes the brave and the strong, but not brainless idiots."
The rookie captain's face shifted between green and pale. He had heard about the island's rules, of course, but being young and hot-blooded, he figured rules were made to be broken.
"I…"
"If you want to prove you're stronger than him, go to the 'Forge'," the man in the suit said, gesturing toward the center of the island. "There are plenty of arenas there where you can fight to your heart's content. If you win, you don't just get his head, you also get a huge cut of the ticket money. And if you're lucky…" He paused, a knowing smirk on his face. "…you might even get noticed by Lord Aaron Kyle or Lord Caron and find yourself famous overnight."
Those words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing the rookie captain's fiery anger. Famous overnight! The phrase held an irresistible appeal for any ambitious pirate. He glanced at the gold-toothed man, whose bloodlust had also been replaced by greed and a desire for battle.
"Fine! I'll see you in the 'Forge' and twist your worthless head off!" the gold-toothed man grunted, removing his hand from his axe and stomping out of the tavern.
The rookie captain snorted and followed him out. A violent street brawl had been defused without a single punch thrown. The other patrons in the tavern, already used to such scenes, simply shrugged and went back to their drinking and boasting. This was the new Sabaody.
The "Forge" they spoke of was Caron's proudest creation over the last two years. It was a massive coliseum built in the center of the archipelago, with enough seating for one hundred thousand spectators. Since private duels were forbidden on the island, Caron had provided an official, legal, and highly profitable platform for them. That was his business logic.
Here, one could apply for a "regular duel" to settle a dispute, where the fight would be stopped before serious injury. Or, one could sign a waiver and engage in a "bloody deathmatch," a true fight to the death. Tickets were sold for every single match, and the winner would take home twenty percent of the total revenue as their prize.
Blood, violence, money, and opportunity—these elements combined perfectly to make the "Forge" the most popular attraction on the Sabaody Archipelago. Countless pirates, bounty hunters, and thrill-seekers flocked to the coliseum just to witness the brutal, flesh-on-flesh combat. More importantly, it was rumored that the owner of the island, the Wave Guiding King himself, would occasionally watch the battles from the top-floor VIP box. This rumor alone was enough to fuel the ambitions of every fighter at the bottom.
On the highest floor of the "Forge," inside a luxurious VIP box with a perfect view of the arena, Aaron Kyle was sprawled across a soft sofa. His feet were propped up on a low table, and he held a freshly grilled skewer of takoyaki in his hand. His gaze drifted lazily down to the massive circular arena below, where two Devil Fruit users were locked in a fierce battle. One man, whose Paramecia-type fruit allowed him to sprout sharp bone spikes from his body, was chasing an opponent whose body could stretch and bend like dough. Bone spikes flew through the air as doughy limbs flailed about, creating a scene that was surprisingly comical.
"Pfft." Aaron Kyle spat the bamboo skewer from his mouth, and it flew across the room, landing perfectly in a distant trash can. "Caron."
"Yes, Lord Aaron Kyle." Standing behind him, Caron, dressed in an immaculate suit with his hair perfectly combed, gave a slight bow. He held a tablet filled with dense rows of data. "This quarter, the total revenue from 'Forge' tickets, merchandise sales, and online pay-per-view broadcasts, after deducting all operational costs and personnel expenses, comes to a net profit of 2,700,000,000 Berries. That's an eight percent increase from the last quarter."
Caron's voice was completely flat, as if he were reporting the weather.
"Hmm…" Aaron Kyle grabbed another skewer of takoyaki. "That bone-spike guy is interesting. Make a note to keep an eye on him."
Without changing his expression, Caron made a note on his tablet. "Understood."
"Also, we received a message from Lord Doflamingo. He has taken an interest in the winner of last week's deathmatch, a swordsman named 'Ghost Slash.' He wants to transfer the man to Dressrosa to fight as a gladiator in his arena."
"Let him do what he wants," Aaron Kyle waved his hand dismissively. "You don't need to ask me about minor things like that every time."
"Yes, sir."
Down below, the battle was reaching its conclusion. The bone-spike user saw an opening and unleashed his power. Spikes erupted from his entire body, pinning the dough-man to the arena wall. He then finished the fight with a decisive headbutt. The entire coliseum exploded with thunderous cheers.
The victorious fighter, covered in blood, paid no attention to his injuries. Instead, he looked up with all his might toward the legendary top-floor VIP box, his eyes burning with hope and longing.
In the box, however, Aaron Kyle didn't even give him a second glance. He just looked at Caron, who stood respectfully by his side, and suddenly smiled.
"You took the brutal brawls between pirates and packaged them into a grand commercial spectacle. You turned the law of the jungle into a continuously profitable industry. You even came up with online paid broadcasts and underground betting that lets the world's rich spend their fortunes on our gladiators..." Aaron Kyle sat up straight and patted Caron's shoulder. "Caron, you're a damn genius!"
The praise was genuine. Aaron Kyle knew he was a hands-off leader, but he was constantly amazed by how Caron could take his casual ideas and transform them into such a vast, precise, and profitable business empire. It was best to leave professional matters to the professionals.
Caron's body stiffened for a moment before he bowed deeply, a hint of emotion finally entering his voice. "It is my honor to serve you, my lord."
"Alright, alright, enough of that." Aaron Kyle waved his hand and slumped back into the sofa, letting out a massive yawn and a stretch. He gazed out the window at the unchanging blue sky and white clouds, sighing deeply.
"Ah... I'm so bored."
Is nothing big ever going to happen again? he wondered. Have those old geezers in the World Government really decided to just retire peacefully?
These two years of calm had made him restless. He felt like he was starting to rust. He needed some action, some real excitement.
And in this world, it seemed, his expectations were never left unfulfilled for long.
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