About Ten Years

"Could it be the Shandian Golden Bell?"

"How could it be in the sky?"

"And the Moon People? They can transform into lightning. They must have eaten the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, right?"

"No wonder we couldn't find Shandia. The Rumble-Rumble Fruit never appeared either."

"How long do you think it will be before this 'god' appears?"

Miming thought for a moment. "It'll be a long time, I suppose. About ten years."

"Ten years?" The Gorosei looked unconcerned. The Moon People didn't understand the writing on the stone monument anyway, so it was fine to let them watch over it. The Shandians might have already been wiped out by the Moon People. In that case, it was best to leave things alone. After all, even if they wanted to intervene, they had no idea where it would happen.

"Did you dream of anything else?"

"I also dreamed of a train—a long train that could travel across the sea! It was incredible. Does something like that really exist?"

"Are you talking about Water 7's Sea Train experiment?" The Gorosei was delighted. "It's a project overseen by Enies Lobby, and it's still in the experimental stage. If it succeeds, it'll connect Enies Lobby and Water 7. How long until it succeeds?"

"Soon." Miming said, "It'll happen in two or three years."

"That's good news." The Gorosei was extremely pleased. The Sea Train would strengthen the Navy and Enies Lobby's control over the surrounding waters. They didn't particularly care whether those islands became prosperous, but this dream was enough to prove the accuracy of Miming's precognitive abilities.

"What about what you said before, about Mary Geoise becoming a sea of flames? Have you dreamed of it again?"

"I have." Miming wore a solemn expression. "I dreamed of it once more. Mary Geoise was engulfed in flames, and many people died, including Celestial Dragons. It'll probably happen about a year from now."

After bullshitting with the Gorosei for a while, the trial finally came to an end.

The Twelve Gods briefly taught him some basic moves from the Six Styles of the Gods. It didn't take too long, because the Gorosei had arranged a more important meeting.

"With your current strength, unless you run into a Navy admiral or someone of CP0's level, there shouldn't be many people capable of taking your life. You can cultivate on your own from now on."

The Gorosei said, "We plan to put you to some use."

Miming immediately objected. "Why should I? Work three hours a day like you? No way. I'm very busy."

He could accept brutal training because it made him stronger, but working meant busily toiling for someone else. There was a huge difference between the two. The Gorosei understood Miming's thinking perfectly, because Celestial Dragons all had the same way of thinking.

"Busy having heart-to-heart talks with your female slaves? Or flicking boogers onto people's heads?" Saint Ichi said. "We haven't stopped you from flicking boogers onto people's heads, nor have we stopped you from casually wasting precious medicine on your slaves. Just treat it as a chance to broaden your horizons."

"What haven't I seen already?"

Miming wore a disdainful expression, but since the Gorosei had mentioned so many things they had turned a blind eye to, he knew he had to show some sense.

Early the next morning, the roar of an engine sounded outside the house, accompanied by the beeping of a car horn.

Miming shot out of bed and dashed to the door. Now this was what he called broadening his horizons!

"This is... a car?"

Miming's eyes widened. Wasn't this a convertible jeep? It looked somewhat different, though. Treads had replaced the tires, so it clearly had impressive off-road capability. The World Government undoubtedly possessed fairly advanced technology. It was just that this thing wasn't useful at sea, so it rarely appeared.

A very muscular old man climbed out of the vehicle. His hair was completely white, yet he wore it in a mohawk, standing straight up in the middle of his head and making him look like a military thug. He was pressing the horn. If he hadn't been wearing a coat of justice, Miming would have thought he was a Celestial Dragon. After all, anyone other than a Celestial Dragon who acted this arrogantly in the Holy Land Mary Geoise would usually end up dead.

"Ah, I'm Kong, here to request an audience with Saint Miming... What? The person in front of me is Saint Miming? Hold on, let me pick my nose."

The old man spoke in an extremely respectful tone, yet he showed no intention of getting out of the car. He kept asking questions he already knew the answers to, making it clear that he looked down on people.

"Bastard! Are you here to pick a fight?" Miming had already decided to take the old man's car. He didn't want to use the moving walkways in this ridiculously huge Holy Land, so having a car was important!

The old man flicked his finger, and boom, the large tree by the entrance snapped in two.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Kong, the Commander-in-Chief..." The muscular old man gave a light cough. Usually, by this point, a Celestial Dragon would already have gone limp with fear, and a large number of CP0 agents would come running out with their subordinates.

"An apology is worth a damn!"

The next moment, a fist slammed into Kong's face, sending him flying off the car.

Miming then expertly shifted gears, hit the accelerator, and shot forward at a hundred...

Kong climbed to his feet. The CP0 agents at the entrance and Cairns, who had rushed over after hearing the noise, were dumbfounded. Once they realized it was Navy Marshal Kong, they asked, "Marshal Kong, what happened? Did you come here just to get beaten up?"

Kong let out a wail like a professional victim. "I've been assaulted! I've been robbed!"

Then he sprinted after his own car.

Miming had only enjoyed himself for a couple of seconds when he suddenly saw a figure catching up. It was the old man Kong. He shot past the car, then simply sprawled down in the middle of the road.

Without the slightest hesitation, Miming drove right over him. The car bounced as it rolled over Kong, soared high into the air, then stalled and dropped back to the ground.

Miming launched into a furious tirade. "You old bastard, are you trying to fake an accident? If you break my car, can you even afford to pay for it?"

"Saint Miming truly is extraordinary." There was a tread mark across Kong's coat of justice. He gave an awkward laugh. "That's my car, though."

Miming looked even more like a shameless freeloader. "What? You say it's yours? If you call it, will it answer?"

Kong: "..."

Miming said, "You don't look hurt, so I'm leaving!"

He stepped on the accelerator, but the car didn't move.

"Hm?" Miming looked around repeatedly. Why had the fuel gauge dropped straight to empty? Looking closely, this didn't seem to be a gasoline indicator. Could it not run on gasoline?

"Hahaha, I thought Saint Miming knew how to drive!" Kong put on a shrewd yet deliberately foolish expression. "You really gave me a fright, hahaha!"

A few minutes later, Kong drove the car while Miming sat bored in the passenger seat. They sped toward the outside of the Holy Land.

The air-powered car gave off a steady engine roar as it raced across the Red Line at lightning speed. It turned out that the vehicle relied on compressed air. Once the compressed air was used up, it had to be compressed again.

Kong's feet moved below him at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye, clacking rapidly like he was stepping on a clutch. In the blink of an eye, he completed the compression of the air, allowing the car to maintain full pressure and race forward at top speed. Ordinary people couldn't use this thing. The stronger their legs, the faster they could go...

"You said you'd compensate me with a new one later!" Miming had agreed to go to the meeting with Kong for this very reason.

The Gorosei's request was for him to attend that day's World Government military conference and explain clearly that the Holy Land Mary Geoise might come under attack.