As Ryan walked across the barren land of the Red Line, the faint cracks in the ground resembled the people living there—cruelly exploited, nearly sucked dry by the parasites of the World Government.
Ryan was no longer as shocked as when he had first arrived, nor did he do anything unnecessary. He merely watched quietly, treating himself as an observer.
According to his original plan, he should have stayed on the Red Line for a year or so. But reality always diverged from one's expectations. In less than a month, he had left the Red Line and returned to the sea.
Other than the old man he had encountered when first entering the Red Line, Ryan had not spoken to anyone during that time. His arrival had not caused even the slightest ripple across the continent.
To truly understand and judge a person accurately, one could not look at what they said, nor at the disguises and packaging on their exterior. One had to see through the countless outward appearances to their essence and look at what they had actually done.
The same applied to everyone and every force. On the Red Line, Ryan had witnessed the World Government's oppression of the people, the brutality of slave owners, and the same disgusting demeanor of those lofty nobles.
"Looks like the plan needs to move forward faster," Ryan murmured as he leaned against the window.
He truly had not been in any hurry before. After all, he had obtained the Dark-Dark Fruit, and defeating Imu was only a matter of time. As long as he knew why Joy Boy had ultimately failed, Ryan did not believe his speed would be insufficient to deal with the enemy before they could act.
But things were different now. In a sense, the people on