Preparations Before the Deal

Within the solemn and imposing Chamber of Power in Holy Land Marijoa, the atmosphere was somewhat more relaxed than when they had been capturing Rayleigh. Yet the scheming hidden beneath the surface had not diminished in the slightest.

Saint Nusjuro held the Shichibukai application submitted by the Blackbeard Pirates. The handwriting on it was crooked and messy, the wording so exaggerated it resembled a farce, and it even bore a greasy black handprint.

His face full of disgust, he carefully pinched it between just two fingers, as though he were holding the filthiest thing in the world.

"Marshall D. Teach? That stray dog who murdered his brother for a Devil Fruit aboard Whitebeard's ship, then got chased all over the world by the Whitebeard Pirates?"

Saint Nusjuro's tone brimmed with contempt, as if even saying the name dirtied his mouth.

As Saint Mars fiddled with an abacus, he said slowly, "That guy's nothing but trouble! He wrecks things wherever he goes! His bounty is high too! Making him a Shichibukai? Compensation payouts might increase..."

Saint Peter adjusted his glasses and analyzed calmly, "He was willing to be hunted by the Whitebeard Pirates just to seize that fruit. It must be an extraordinary ability. Perhaps it can counter that brat's power."

A sharp glint flashed through Saint Nusjuro's eyes. He suddenly tossed the application onto the table and snorted. "Hmph! Perfect! There are too many variables in that deal with Allen. We need a mad dog to stir things up! We need a stone foul enough to test the waters! Teach... he's mad enough, foul enough! And he definitely covets Allen's Space-Space Fruit. He'll work harder than anyone!"

Saint Warcury frowned and said with a look of distaste, "That guy looks like... he has great potential as bait. Those missing teeth make me want to stuff some trash into the gaps."

Saint Nusjuro gave a broad wave of his hand and made the decision decisively. "Approved! Give him the title of Shichibukai! Let him be cannon fodder! Let him stir the pot! Tell CP0 to provide him with the coordinates of Uninhabited Rock Island! Make him arrive for the 'appointment' on time! Once we're done using him..."

He made a throat-slitting gesture, a vicious glint flashing in his eyes.

The other Five Elders responded in unison, "Agreed!"

Time passed swiftly amid the calculations and preparations of all sides. Soon, the third day arrived, leaving only two days until the deal with Allen.

By then, the World Government had completed its fortifications and laid out every kind of trap on the island where the deal would take place. All that remained was for Allen to arrive as promised, and a carefully orchestrated conspiracy would begin to unfold.

Meanwhile, in the command room on Hachinosu Island, Allen stood quietly before an enormous sea chart. His brows were slightly furrowed, his gaze focused and profound as he continually considered the coming deal and Hachinosu Island's defensive arrangements.

After thinking for a moment, Allen picked up a specially made red Den Den Mushi, dialed the number, and said steadily, "Shanks."

The Den Den Mushi instantly took on Shanks's hearty, smiling expression and responded loudly, "Yo! Little brother Allen!"

From the other end came deafening noise: clinking wine glasses, sailors singing rough songs, knives and forks striking plates, and a certain Rubber Human's distinctive cries of "Meat! Meat!" all Intertwined together. They were clearly in the middle of an exceptionally lively banquet.

Shanks's voice carried a touch of drunken pleasure as he laughed. "I heard you're going to have 'tea' with the Five Elders? Quite the occasion! Want your big brother to bring some men over and help you put on a show? Maybe help you 'sober up' while we're at it? Don't worry! The Red Force's wine cellar has more than enough! Hahaha!"

The corner of Allen's mouth twitched slightly as he replied helplessly, "I don't need help fighting for now. Do me a favor, Shanks."

As he spoke, he pointed to Hachinosu Island's location on the sea chart and explained gravely, "While I'm gone these next few days, we can't leave home undefended. That old woman Big Mom just got pregnant, so she's probably even more explosive than usual. If she gets hotheaded and comes to raid us with her belly sticking out, Robin and the others will be under a lot of pressure."

At that moment, Luffy's urgent shout came from the background. "Shanks! Is that Brother Allen? I want to talk to him!"

Shanks seemed to cover the receiver, and Allen faintly heard, "Luffy! Don't grab it!" Then Shanks's voice became clear again. "Hahaha! Leave it to me! It's nothing! I was just planning to take a few little brats with too much energy for some special training at sea. We'll set the location in the waters around Hachinosu Island! I'll keep watch for you! I guarantee not even a Sweet Soldier will get near the island! If you need backup, just say the word. The 'special training' ends immediately, and we'll rush over at full speed!"

Allen imagined Shanks leading the Straw Hat Crew through "special training" near Hachinosu Island, and his head began to ache even more. With a bitter smile, he said, "Thanks, Shanks. But as for the deal... I have my own arrangements."

"Your intimidation will be more valuable against Big Mom. Keep her in line. Over here... I can handle it."

Afterward, Allen headed deep into Hachinosu Island. There was an enormous secret warehouse there, carved out and reinforced by his Space Ability. The air inside was cold and dry, Filled with the distinctive scent of motor oil and metal.

Thirty clones with Black Wings stood in neat rows throughout the warehouse like silent ancient Giant Soldiers.

They were the Human Weapon Mark I units Allen had brought back from Sky Island, radiating a cold, powerful aura as if ready to enter battle at any moment.

With a grave expression, Allen pointed at the war machines and said to Robin, "Robin, I'll be taking twenty of them for this deal. They'll be my leverage at the negotiating table, and my insurance in case I have to flip the table."

"I'm leaving the remaining ten to you. You have the highest command authority over them. The activation password..."

Allen paused, seemingly finding the next words a little difficult to say. Still, he gritted his teeth and forced them out. "...is the numbers of your birthday, plus 'Poneglyphs are all a joke.'"

For the first time, an obvious crack appeared in Robin's ever-unchanging archaeologist poker face.

Her beautiful eyes, capable of deciphering ancient writing and seeing through the truth of history, widened round. They were filled with disbelief and a kind of... absurd sense of offense.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to confirm whether she had misheard him.

Robin's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Striving to keep her voice steady, she said, "...Understood."

She adjusted glasses that did not exist, elegantly folding her fingers before her as her gaze Scanned the ten Mark I units. Calmly, she said, "Please rest assured. I'll take good 'care' of these... big fellows."