Seeing the Whitebeard captains reduced to speechless gibbering, Zoya could not help clapping in her mother's arms and giggling. Her silver-bell laughter jolted the babbling captains awake, and embarrassed blushes spread across their faces. They clearly wished they could crawl into a hole.
If Marco had not brought it up, they would have long forgotten that they had once plundered others.
Once pirates reached the level of the Four Emperors, they were already kings among kings, emperors above emperors, among the rulers of the surrounding seas. They no longer needed to go out raiding to collect vast taxes. Those taxes freed them from labor, allowing them to live comfortably without producing anything—as long as they remained strong.
But the Revolutionary Army had not forgotten the crimes they themselves had long forgotten.
The number of people they had killed was beyond counting, but the wealth they had seized still existed.
Pirates at the level of the Four Emperors no longer needed to hide their treasures on some island. Instead, those riches lay quietly in the holds of their ships, serving as ballast.
If they did not hand over those valuables, it meant they still carried the sins of their past. That would make it difficult for them to survive, live, and work within the Revolutionary Army. Everyone who looked at them would carry a faint degree of prejudice and scrutiny.
In a sense, the Revolutionary Army's collection of half their wealth was actually helping them integrate into the new order.
In other words, once they paid this sum, their past sins would be wiped clean.
Was there any deal more worthwhile than that?
The Whitebeard captains wore awkward expressions. They had gotten angry several times, only to realize that Leo and Marco had already completed several rounds of negotiations and exchanges.