Troublemaking?

Early that morning, Queen Rosa sent word that a Tea Party would be held in the palace gardens that afternoon, and the Marines were requested to attend without fail.

The Queen was no ordinary person. Most of those attending her birthday banquet were members of royal families from various nations, as well as prominent nobles and merchants of the Grand Line. None of them rose early without profit to be made, and the Queen's birthday banquet was an excellent platform. Before the formal banquet, they would discuss and negotiate their interests with one another. Thus, Queen Rosa had decided to host a Tea Party that afternoon, allowing everyone to settle what needed settling—an unspoken rule of sorts.

But now that the Flower Capital was embroiled in the sensitive matter of a transfer of power, most of those people had come to support Fred. Only a small number wanted to use this platform to discuss business, and there was no need to make such a grand affair out of a Tea Party for them. They could settle matters privately.

There had to be some ulterior motive behind this!

Ding!

Garp flicked a toothpick into a clean dinner plate, narrowed his eyes, and looked out the window. "Who cares what it is? Just remember that you're not one of us Marines."

After a moment of surprise, Ron smiled faintly. "Understood."

The palace was exceptionally lively that day. Servants bustled back and forth, carrying pastries and tea to the gardens in preparation for the Tea Party.

Yet beneath all that bustle lingered an inexplicable air of tension.

Although Fred's attempt to force the palace was known only among high-ranking officials, General Jade's fate remained unknown, and the Flower Capital had lost one of its pillars. That alone was no small matter. Those who knew the details, and understood why the Marines and the upper echelons of various nations had come, were even more terrified and did not dare speak loudly.

Ron turned a blind eye to all of it—or rather, he simply did not care.

Just as he was preparing to follow Garp to the Tea Party venue, a servant approached the three of them. After bowing, he said, "Mr. Ron, the Queen wishes to see you..."

Just as expected!

Garp and Ron exchanged a glance. Then Garp nodded. "Go see the Queen first. We'll wait for you in the garden."

"Understood..."

With that, Ron followed the servant down another corridor. Garp and Traine watched him leave before continuing onward.

The Tea Party was being held deep within the palace. The Marine encampment was quite far away, and the climate there was still like summer. Yet once they entered the palace grounds, cool snowy winds blew down from the mountains, making the weather pleasant. By the time they reached their destination, it felt like late autumn.

That was also why the Queen had chosen this place for the Tea Party. Nobles often paid great attention to detail, and their clothing was thick and layered. People like the Marines, who could head out in nothing but a T-shirt, were practically nonexistent. If it was too hot, no one would be in the mood for pastries or afternoon tea.

"Damn it! You bunch of bitches! Don't you know how hot tea is?!"

Garp and Traine had just stepped into the garden from the corridor when a harsh stream of abuse drew their attention. At the same time, they heard a teacup shatter on the ground, followed by the crisp sound of a palm striking someone's face.

Slap!

Following the sound, Traine saw a fat man round as a ball clutching his hand in rage, his expression twisted. Before him, on the grass, an ordinary maid covered her face and looked around in terror.

"Bitch! Bitch!"

The fat man, dressed in luxurious garments made from fine fabric, raised his hand. His wrist was bruised and swollen. He was clearly the one who had hit someone, yet he was also the one who had sprained his wrist. Catching the contemptuous looks from the other nobles out of the corner of his eye, he flew into a fury and began kicking the maid again and again.

The maid was only an ordinary person. How could she endure the heavy kicks of a three-hundred-pound man? After only a few blows, she collapsed to the ground, crying out in agony without end.

"That bastard..."

Traine had been born a commoner himself and could not stand the ugly faces nobles showed like this. He placed a hand on his sword hilt, fury blazing in his eyes.

"Don't get worked up, Traine."

Garp's face was equally grim, but he forced himself to restrain his anger.

Traine understood the priorities. Taking a deep breath, he forcibly suppressed his rage and went to sit aside, pouring himself some tea.

Perhaps tired from the beating, the fat man stopped after a few kicks and turned back to sit in his chair. A servant had long been waiting beside him with a cup in hand. Seeing him sit, the servant hurriedly offered him cooled tea with a fawning expression.

"Your Highness, have some tea and calm down."

"Mm... you're still the clever one."

The fat man took a sip and found the temperature just right. He made a satisfied sound through his nostrils and glanced at the servant.

"It is this lowly one's blessing to ease Your Highness's worries. Are you hungry, Your Highness? These Flower Capital specialty pastries taste quite good."

"Very well. Bring me some to try."

On one side, the fat man drank tea and ate pastries in comfort. No one cared that he had beaten someone. In the eyes of the nobles present, such matters were commonplace. They had the right to look down on the fat man, but he was still a noble. He had beaten a mere commoner—so what?

On the other side, the maid had been beaten until she was barely breathing, clearly close to death, yet no one cared about her either. Even the guards around the garden did not dare come forward to help, because if they angered the fat man, no one would plead for them either.

"Vice Admiral Garp..."

Traine's expression was horrendous. He knew that without treatment, the maid was as good as dead. The guards were too intimidated by noble authority to help, but weren't they from Marine Headquarters?

The reason the fat man had beaten someone right as they arrived was, plainly speaking, to give them a show of force—to tell them that they firmly supported Fred!

The matter had begun with the Marines, and the maid was merely suffering an undeserved disaster.

Garp's face was filled with anger and helplessness. If this were not the Flower Capital, with his temper, that fat man would have been sent flying out of the palace long ago... Literally flying! Who would dare underestimate Garp's fists?!

But...

"Being so hesitant about saving someone doesn't seem like the Vice Admiral Garp I know."

Suddenly, a tall figure walked in from the garden entrance. Ron glanced at the maid collapsed on the ground, froth of blood spilling from her lips, and said calmly, "He's just a stupid pig. What are you hesitating for?"

Garp's expression instantly became quite colorful—red, blue, white, and black—and he could not help wanting to punch him.

Traine was also so frustrated that his face reddened, his expression complicated.

But Ron did not notice his look at that moment, because his words had carried far through the silent garden. The fat man who had been beating the maid heard every word clearly. He instantly turned his head and roared, "Who was that? Which bastard dared to insult me?"

"Hmph!"

Ron sneered and walked out from behind Garp. As he passed Garp, Garp quietly asked, "Are you sure about this?!"

Ron gave him a reassuring look, then swaggered forward a few steps and rubbed his ear. "Who's the bastard insulting?"

"The bastard is insulting you..."

The fat man answered without thinking, then immediately realized what had happened. His face flushed crimson. "Damn it! You dare trick me?"

"No, I'm tricking a monkey..."

Ron answered sincerely.

If he admitted he was the monkey, he would be admitting defeat. If he did not, he would have to swallow the insult.

"You!"

After being toyed with like that, the fat man actually calmed down. He first examined Ron's face and confirmed that he did not remember any noble like him. Then he looked over Ron's clothes and immediately sneered. "You're just a Marine errand boy, yet you dare mock me? Do you know who I am?!"

"I don't..."

Ron shook his head decisively. Seeing this, the fat man snorted proudly through his nostrils. Just as he was about to show Ron the prestige of his family, Ron suddenly asked, "Then do you know who I am?"

"You..."

The fat man hesitated. He looked at Ron, confusion filling his eyes.

"I don't..."

Whoosh!

The next moment, a figure flashed past, whipping up a violent gust. When everyone's eyes found Ron again, he was already standing before the fat man. Under the ghostly stares of the surrounding nobles, Ron raised his hand and pulled forward.

Slap!

The ball of flesh immediately shot up from where he stood, flying seven or eight meters before crashing into the ornamental rockery in a corner of the garden. When he fell from it, he was not dead, but he had lost nearly half his life.

"You don't even know who I am. You deserve a beating!"

Ron said something that left everyone speechless, as casually as if he had just swatted away a fly.

Everyone was stunned by Ron's brazen action. None of them had expected someone to truly dare cause trouble in the palace! Not to mention that every noble gathered here had an extraordinary status—how had he dared strike someone?!

Even Garp was stunned by the scene. He realized he had still underestimated Ron's violent streak. A noble of an Affiliated Nation, perhaps even royalty, would not need to bow and scrape before Sengoku—yet Ron had struck him without a second thought!

But when Garp recalled the look Ron had given him earlier, he sat down at ease and motioned for Traine to watch from the sidelines.

Ron's mind was far sharper than his. Garp did not believe Ron failed to understand what he was doing.

Since he dared do this, he surely had the confidence to handle it.

"You... how dare you?!"

"Guards! Where the hell are the guards? Someone's attacking people!!"

After their initial fright, the nobles quickly calmed down. He was just an errand boy. Since he had dared attack a noble of an Affiliated Nation, he was dead for sure!

Soon, a group of palace guards poured in from all directions under Fred's command.

If nothing unexpected happened, the Queen would hand the throne over to him at the birthday banquet the day after tomorrow. A genius of rebellion like Fred could not possibly overlook the matter of switching out the palace guards.

He had been hiding in the shadows from the start. After all, he still held the title of General of the Flower Capital and was not qualified to participate in this Tea Party among nobles. At the same time, he wanted to see what Garp and the others would do.

But he had never expected Ron to dare commit violence in public!

Fred was overjoyed. After deliberately dragging his feet for a moment, he immediately led his men flooding into the garden. Amid the clatter of drawn blades, they surrounded Ron as Fred shouted furiously, "You dare injure someone in the palace! Men, seize him!"

"Hold it!"

Suddenly, a lazy voice rang in everyone's ears. Fred knew that voice all too well. He had heard it since childhood.

"Your Majesty the Queen!"