Morgans's arrival truly opened the floodgates, and he began introducing Sky Island to them.
As the Propaganda Department minister, his status was different from that of Admiral Ivankov. As a civilian official, he could talk about anything; even if he was somewhat disrespectful in terms of status, it could be forgiven.
Benn Beckman, standing behind Red-Haired with a massive rocket-launcher-like gun slung over his shoulder, studied the eloquent Morgans and marveled inwardly. One of the Black Market's emperors had actually been absorbed by the Revolutionary Army—or had he joined them of his own accord?
Either possibility was a major issue for them. Matters like this were completely unknown to the public, circulating only within a small circle at the highest levels. They were important affairs.
If that was the case, had those Black Market heroes also pledged themselves to the Revolutionary Army?
That was something Red-Haired and his crew needed to consider as well.
"We're at the lowest level of the White Sea. This platform is built from Iron Cloud, with railings on both sides. It's a little dangerous if you accidentally fall off. Below is the White Sea, whose buoyancy is weaker than seawater's. You need twice the strength to swim back up. If you sink, you'll just fall straight down. Unless you have a Devil Fruit like mine, you'd better not try it carelessly." Morgans gave a dry chuckle as he explained it to Red-Haired's officers.
"What are they doing?" After walking for quite some distance, they suddenly spotted a large crowd by the shore.
The paths those people used were also made of square Iron Cloud platforms. They walked across those platforms with baskets braced in their hands, continuously scattering things from the baskets into the sea.
Near another grid of platforms, people stood on the Iron