A week had passed since the old man had buried himself in his laboratory.
Over that week, the people of Fish-Man Island had more or less grown accustomed to the artificial sun floating in the sky.
The light emitted by the artificial sun was not much different from the sunlight brought by Eve, so it was not difficult to adapt to.
This sun, which rose in the morning and set in the evening, even felt remarkably novel to the people of Fish-Man Island.
To some extent, this was the first time in their lives that the vast majority of Fish-Man Island's people had seen a sunrise and sunset.
Though it was artificial, it was still deeply moving.
Life on Fish-Man Island proceeded in an orderly fashion, but the Marines were running themselves ragged.
The high-ranking officials from Navy Headquarters had yet to leave Fish-Man Island. Over this past week—or two weeks, including the one before it—most of their time had been spent busily making calls.
They were constantly contacting commanders from Marine branches across the seas, trying to win their support.
Their efforts had actually yielded decent results. They had successfully won over several Vice Admirals from the G-series branches. With the Marines practically crippled now, these were already powerful senior officers, each commanding more than ten thousand Marine soldiers.
Even so, the situation remained grim. Most Marine bases still followed the World Government, especially the branch bases scattered throughout the Four Seas.
Those bases were either loyal to the World Government, or their military authority had already been seized by men sent in advance by nearby kings.
The final result was that, even after Navy Headquarters had been bombed and the Fleet Admiral directly killed, most of the Marines' remaining strength still belonged to the World Government.
That was