"Having Raleigh-sama grace our government office truly brings radiance to this humble place."
Mayor Frank bowed low, fawning over Raleigh with an expression that was almost painful to watch.
He was rubbing his hands together, smiling so hard his face looked like it might crack.
Although Frank was an official of the World Government stationed here on Chaniaral Island, he knew exactly who was sitting on the leather sofa in front of him.
He was well aware that this young Marine was not someone he could afford to offend.
Frank had known for a long time that Raleigh had the backing of Borsalino, the powerful Vice Admiral of the North Blue.
That alone made Raleigh untouchable.
But things had changed.
Unexpectedly, after just half a year, the situation was different. The once-greenhorn who had arrived from the East Blue had grown into a formidable tiger.
Frank looked at Raleigh with a mix of awe and terror.
This man had unified the chaotic Mafia families of Chaniaral Island.
He had defeated the Donquixote Family, a rising power in the North Blue.
Recently, rumors said he had even eliminated the legendary pirate, Bryndy World.
Since Raleigh's arrival, legends about him had piled up like mountains.
Now, Raleigh no longer needed to rely on Borsalino for support. He had become a monster in his own right, a figure no one dared to underestimate.
Raleigh sat back comfortably, puffing on the premium cigar Frank had given him.
He exhaled a cloud of gray smoke.
"Ahem, these are all trivial matters not worth mentioning," Raleigh said, waving his hand dismissively.
However, his expression showed that he thoroughly enjoyed Frank's flattery.
It was useful to have local officials afraid of him.
"However," Raleigh continued, tapping ash into a crystal tray, "Mayor Frank has done quite commendable work. I still vaguely remember our last visit to Chaniaral Island. It was during sunset, just like today."
Raleigh's eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled the memory. "Back then, not a single civilian dared to be outdoors. They all obediently stayed hidden in their homes, terrified. The nights on Chaniaral Island belonged to the lawless Mafia and the pirates."
Raleigh looked Frank in the eye. "After we cleansed this island, Mayor Frank managed to bring about a complete transformation in just half a year. That is truly impressive work."
Upon hearing Raleigh's praise, Frank couldn't control himself.
He suddenly started to wiggle his hips and wave his arms. He was literally dancing with excitement.
Raleigh raised an eyebrow.
After a moment of awkward dancing, Frank stopped.
He realized how silly he looked. He quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
"Raleigh-sama, I hope you don't mind," Frank stammered. "I have this habit of dancing when I get overly excited. It's a nervous tic."
Then, Frank clapped his hands sharply.
Clap! Clap!
The heavy oak door creaked open. A female secretary walked in.
She was dressed in professional attire with black stockings, looking very sharp. She walked respectfully to the desk and handed a thick file folder to Frank.
Frank took the file, opened it to check the contents, and then presented it to Raleigh with both hands, bowing his head.
"Raleigh-sama, this is the tax revenue report for Chaniaral Island over the past six months. Please, take a look."
Raleigh casually took the file from Frank.
He flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the columns of numbers. As he read, he found himself nodding involuntarily.
Seeing Raleigh's positive reaction, Frank felt a surge of confidence. He spoke cautiously:
"Raleigh-sama, under your brilliant and valiant leadership, Chaniaral Island has completely eliminated the harms of the chaotic Mafia wars. Now, the Salisbury Family has done many good deeds for the island."
Frank pointed to a graph on the paper. "They have devoted much time and effort to maintaining public order. It is precisely because of their hard work that the tax revenue of our Chaniaral Island has far exceeded that of previous years."
As Frank finished speaking, Raleigh reached the final page of the statistics.
He paused, his eyes widening slightly.
"This number..." Raleigh muttered. "It is actually three times higher than the first half of the year. How did the Salisbury Family achieve this?"
Raleigh was genuinely curious.
He knew peace was good for business, but a triple increase was massive.
Frank quickly explained, eager to show his knowledge.
"Raleigh-sama, you may not be aware, but in the past, life was impossible here. Although Chaniaral Island served as a supply stop for ships, the criminals made it dangerous. Impoverished locals were forced to join the Mafia or pirate crews just to eat."
Frank sighed dramatically. "They didn't produce anything. They didn't pay taxes. They only disrupted the lives of the honest civilians."
"But now?" Frank smiled. "After you wiped out the bad groups, Chaniaral Island has been managed effectively by the Salisbury Family. Pirates can't gain a foothold here anymore. Without interference, the people are working hard. Merchant ships feel safe to stop here for supplies. Money is flowing in like water!"
Through Frank's words, Raleigh understood the logic perfectly.
It was simple.
The Salisbury Family, acting as Raleigh's proxy, had forced stability onto the island.
Without constant gang wars, the people could actually work and earn a living. The stable environment encouraged investment.
This was why the tax revenue had tripled. It was the price of peace.
Raleigh closed the folder and nodded in satisfaction.
He remained silent for a moment, letting the silence hang in the room.
Seeing this, Frank grew nervous again.
He glanced at his secretary, signaling her to leave.
Once the door clicked shut, Frank leaned down and whispered into Raleigh's ear.
"Don't worry, Raleigh-sama. The tax revenue reported to the World Government this year... is exactly the same as last year's report."
Frank gave a sly, conspiratorial smile. "As for the extra amount—the surplus from the economic boom—I've already had my subordinates pack it up. It is ready for you to take whenever you wish."
Raleigh looked up at the lean Mayor.
'Corruption,' Raleigh thought.
It seemed that at every level of the World Government, people understood the dark rules of the game.
Frank was bribing him with the unreported tax money.
However, Raleigh didn't act self-righteous.
He didn't reject it.
Money was necessary for his plans too.
He motioned for Frank to come closer. Raleigh leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"I only want half of that money," Raleigh said calmly. "How you distribute the rest among your staff is none of my concern."
Frank's eyes lit up with joy, but Raleigh's next words froze him in place.
"But I have one thing to tell you, Frank. Since we have improved the situation on this island, I don't want it to revert to how it was before."
Raleigh's eyes turned cold. "Remember this: whoever causes innocent bloodshed among the people, or lets this island return to chaos just to line their pockets... I will make them understand what rules mean!"
Raleigh's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a heavy pressure.
It made Frank feel a sense of suffocation, as if the air had been sucked out of the room.
No one would doubt Raleigh's words.
The graveyards of the North Blue were full of people who had doubted him.
Frank replied with a panicked expression, sweating profusely again.
"R-Raleigh-sama! Rest assured! I swear on my life, I won't let Chaniaral Island return to the dark days!"
Raleigh looked at the terrified man.
He found the Mayor rather boring now that the business was concluded.
He stood up, adjusted his Marine coat, and simply walked out of the office without looking back.
...
While Raleigh was dealing with politics, something else was happening nearby.
On a small, desolate island not far from Chaniaral, the atmosphere was completely different.
There was no warm sunset or bustling market here.
The air was cold and clinical.
A group of scientists wearing thick, yellow protective suits were moving across the rocky terrain.
They held strange instruments that beeped rhythmically. They were working with intense focus, ignoring the harsh wind.
"Judge, come take a look at this spot," one of the scientists called out.
This scientist was a tall figure, completely hidden by his suit.
He was shaking a test tube in his hand, looking at the liquid inside swirling against the light.
"I believe what we've been searching for is right here."
The man called Judge stopped what he was doing and approached.
He was an imposing figure.
Even in this rugged environment, he commanded authority.
He wore a heavy metal helmet over his thick, flowing golden hair. He stood tall and broad-shouldered.
His face was striking, featuring a sharply upward-pointing black mustache and a small beard on his prominent jaw.
On the chest of his protective suit, and emblazoned on the equipment around them, was a specific symbol: the number "66."
Vinsmoke Judge stared at the test tube, his eyes narrowing behind the visor of his helmet.
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