_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Troy Island stood almost shoulder to shoulder with Ohara in fame across the world.
It was hailed as the City of Art. The world's greatest musicians, writers, and painters were born here.
Many of the enslaved musicians sold at the Sabaody auction houses came from this island.
Troy's people were gifted in the arts, beloved by the world's nobles.
With a broom in hand, they could serve as humble cleaners. Set it down, and they could become musicians, performing melodies that intoxicated the soul.
Kyle's warship slowly docked at the harbor.
Behind him stood Alvida. As for Crocodile, Bullet, T-Bone, and the others, they had been dispatched to suppress recent unrest in the West Blue.
In truth, after the initial turbulence, the sea had largely settled down.
The only thing giving Kyle a headache now was funding.
Feeding such a massive naval force required resources. Guns and ammunition. Equipment maintenance. Food. Replacing worn-out uniforms.
Ordinary, unremarkable things. Yet essential to survival.
And so, he turned his gaze toward the Five Great Mafia Families of the Four Seas.
The first name that came to mind was Capone Bege.
"Major Salock from the Troy branch reported seeing Capone Bege appear on this island before," Alvida said.
"Mm."
Kyle nodded.
"No need to focus too much on him."
"Someone that clever would've gotten the news the moment we set foot on this island."
After saying that, he lifted his gaze slightly.
At the mouth of the alley ahead, a few men in black stiffened, then hurried off with tense expressions.
"Compared to Capone Bege, I'm more interested in the art this island is famous for all over the world."
Kyle withdrew his gaze and smiled.
"I'll take you there right away."
Alvida stepped forward to lead the way.
The artistic atmosphere of Troia was indeed thick in the air.
You could see it in the street bands scattered everywhere, the eccentric painters carrying sketchboards, and even in the strange layout of the island's buildings.
No matter where you walked, there was always some mellow melody drifting through the streets.
Yet even in a place so steeped in art, the darkness still found a way in.
Within the range of his perception, Kyle easily caught sight of street thugs brawling in shadowed alleys or conducting illegal deals. He even noticed an underground black-market boxing ring, the crowd roaring like thunder.
He paid it no mind.
On the surface, the West Blue looked peaceful and calm. Beneath that calm, however, five great mafia families quietly controlled everything.
Where there is light, there is shadow. Sunlight casts darkness as naturally as breathing. That was simply how the world worked.
After a while, Kyle found a quiet teahouse.
He took a seat on the second floor. Downstairs, a band played soft, soothing music, their faces lost in the performance.
Across the street, heavily made-up women in revealing outfits occasionally pulled men into dim houses, curtains falling shut behind them.
Alvida's pretty face flushed red at the sight.
Kyle glanced over calmly. In his previous life, there was little he hadn't experienced.
His eyes shifted, landing on a building three streets away.
"Damn it. I really do have a cursed mouth."
"That man actually came."
Taking a drag from his cigar, Capone Bege trembled all over.
But he quickly forced himself to calm down.
Since the other party had already arrived, hiding was useless. And he was absolutely certain the man had come for him.
There were countless islands in the West Blue. The odds of appearing here by coincidence were basically zero.
"Prepare a generous gift."
"A man like him cannot be treated carelessly."
After straightening his coat, Capone Bege took a deep breath and stepped out.
Moments later, he arrived at the teahouse.
When he saw the women across the street, he frowned slightly.
"Tell those people to keep it quiet today."
"Yes, boss!"
"Wait here."
Capone Bege nodded and entered the teahouse with a grave expression.
He barely let his footsteps make a sound. To show respect and goodwill, he had already removed the pistol at his waist and the daggers hidden on his body.
He knew very well that if the other party harbored ill intent, no preparation would save him.
Trying to leave a good impression was his only real option.
After climbing to the second floor, Capone Bege saw him.
By the window sat a tall, broad-shouldered man in loose casual clothes, nearly twice his height. The sheer presence of him was overwhelming.
The strength radiating from him was visible to the naked eye, completely unrestrained.
Across from him sat a delicate-looking woman in a pink dress, a blade hanging at her waist.
"The Supreme Commander of West Blue. The man who captured Pirate King Roger and Golden Lion Shiki."
"Vice Admiral Kyle."
"And Colonel Alvida."
Their identities flashed through his mind in an instant, and his expression turned solemn.
Approaching carefully, with clear respect, Capone Bege bent at the waist.
"Capone Bege greets Vice Admiral Kyle."
His voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough for the two of them to hear without disturbing their mood.
Alvida turned around immediately.
"And you are?"
Capone Bege smiled at once. "There are five great mafia families in the West Blue."
"The Capone family is one of them."
"Mafia?" Alvida frowned.
In her mind, the Navy and the mafia had nothing in common. Instinctive disgust surfaced on her face.
Seeing her reaction, Capone Bege's heart skipped. He cautiously glanced at the man across from him.
When he saw no strong reaction from Kyle, he didn't dare relax and hurried to explain.
"Please rest assured, Colonel Alvida."
"My family abandoned many illegal and dark dealings years ago. We are engaged in legitimate business now."
He paused.
"Only when clashing with other families do our methods become… somewhat intense."
Alvida clearly didn't believe him. She snorted and fell silent.
The teahouse grew quiet.
Capone Bege felt immense pressure. Sweat beaded across his forehead.
The man before him didn't even need to speak to create a terrifying sense of oppression. It was the weight of his name, and his strength.
In front of him, Capone felt like an ant. Small. Powerless.
After a long silence—
"Capone Bege."
"Two years ago, you sent me a gift."
The sudden voice made Capone flinch. He immediately raised his head.
"Yes, Vice Admiral!"
Kyle smiled faintly, studying the tension and fear in the mafia leader's eyes.
"Don't be so nervous."
"I liked your gift. So…"
"Patriarch Capone, straighten your back first. Then we can continue."
Capone's body trembled. Hesitation flickered in his eyes.
But soon, he obeyed, slowly straightening.
Even so, with Kyle seated, Capone still had to look up at him. The gap between them felt innate.
"There are five great mafia families in the West Blue?"
"Yes."
"Then why have the other four never approached me?"
The sudden question stunned Capone. For a moment, he didn't know how to answer.
Kyle answered it himself.
"Perhaps they don't take me seriously."
"Or perhaps, Patriarch Capone, you are simply more far-sighted than they are."
Kyle murmured.
Capone shuddered, sweat running down his back.
Was this a test? A probe? He didn't dare guess.
"V–Vice Admiral, you flatter me."
He forced the words out, his mind racing.
"I intend to establish an organization."
Kyle spoke casually.
"It was just an idea a few days ago. Today, I've made my decision."
Capone didn't dare interrupt. He listened intently.
After a brief pause, Kyle spoke again.
"I've decided to recruit you."
Capone's eyes widened. "What?"
"But joining my organization comes with conditions."
"I want you to unify the entire underground world of the West Blue."
"The other four mafia families have no reason to continue existing."
Kyle's tone was light, almost indifferent.
"Unify the underground world?!"
"This…"
Capone's pupils shrank.
The man had abruptly decided to pull him into this organization, leaving no room to refuse. Not that he dared to refuse.
What made him even more uneasy was the demand to wipe out the other four families and dominate the entire West Blue underworld.
If he could do that already, he wouldn't be standing here in this position.
"I will help you accomplish this."
"In exchange, the operational expenses of the West Blue Navy will require your support."
The words drifted out casually.
A faint breeze swept through the second floor of the teahouse.
Capone Bege stood rigid, his expression shifting again and again.
Those words sounded noble on the surface. But stripped down to the truth, it was simple.
The vice admiral had taken a liking to his power and intended to pull everything into his own hands.
Decisive. Ruthless. Not a shred of room left for resistance.
Capone Bege ran the numbers in his head at lightning speed, weighing the cost of joining this man's organization and completing his missions against the benefits he stood to gain.
The answer came quickly.
With a solemn expression, Capone Bege bent at the waist.
"Thank you, Vice Admiral, for giving the Capone family this opportunity!"
"I won't disappoint you."
Kyle lifted the teacup from the table, blew gently across the surface, and took a slow sip.
"Our organization… what is it called, sir?" Capone Bege asked carefully.
"Gods."
Kyle's eyes were calm.
"And you."
"Codename: Godfather."
"..."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________