Collision

In the mining forest, the workers were like wound-up robots, striking the ore over and over to fill their bellies, as though bread lay wrapped inside it.

The children wore ragged clothes, their eyes holding no hopes for the future, only numbness. The scene gradually overlapped with certain blurry images from his memories of his previous life.

An indescribable emotion stirred deep within him.

"The more I understand, the more... great it seems." He spoke softly, as though addressing himself, and also this burdened land.

He said nothing more, merely raising his hand slightly. In an instant, a deep hum rose from far underground. Streams of metal broke through the hard soil like living tentacles, rapidly gathering and taking shape before him. In the blink of an eye, they became three metal chairs with stark, hard lines.

He sat down elegantly, then gestured for Blake and a figure hidden among the distant crowd to join him.

"My friend from the Revolutionary Army over there, why not come sit down for a chat?" Boer's voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly through the noise of the mining district.

Among the crowd, the older Revolutionary Army soldier, Hans Sieber, narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Boer with a hawk-like gaze.

After a brief silence, he gave a derisive laugh, walked over without hesitation, and dropped into a metal chair with a dull thud.

He folded his arms across his chest. The wrinkles crisscrossing his face seemed carved with hardship and resistance, while his eyes held a mixture of undisguised wariness, deeply rooted contempt, and a trace of gravity in the face of an unknown power.

"Let's hear it, then, our noble lord. What put you in the mood to chat with a 'peasant' like me today?" Hans's voice was rough, thick with sarcasm.

Boer did not immediately answer his provocation. His gaze grew distant, as though piercing through the suffering mining forest before him, crossing the rolling mountains, and reaching toward the wider world.

That inscrutable smile appeared on his face again, but this time, it seemed to hold a little less mockery and a little more unfathomable depth.

"My name is Aaron Boer," he began, his voice steady. "Perhaps I'm somewhat different from those born-noble 'lords' you speak of. At heart, I'm just a rather lucky... ordinary person who acquired a Devil Fruit power."

He paused, a trace of complicated recollection flashing through his eyes, as though he had passed through the mists of time. "May I hear about your platform for action and your acts of resistance?"

Hans Sieber froze. His fingers unconsciously dug into his arms.

He had seen far too many nobles show contempt or arrogance, or disgrace themselves before the execution scaffold, cursing in fury.

But in all his life, he had never encountered someone like Boer, speaking with such equality, even with a hint of seeking instruction.

Especially when his questions went straight to the heart of their cause.

After a moment of astonishment, a fervor kindled by the feeling of being acknowledged, mixed with a desire to speak, instantly surged into Hans's heart.

He straightened his back, a blazing light bursting from his eyes, and spoke in a trembling, impassioned tone that was almost evangelical:

"Our platform?! It's simple! Freedom! Equality! Resistance against all injustice and oppression in the world!"

His voice rose unconsciously. "Under the guidance of our leader, Dragon, we've successfully overthrown the tyranny of the Sorbet Kingdom! And several small kingdoms unaffiliated with the World Government! I, Hans Sieber, even personally took people like you and..."

"Enough!" Blake suddenly interrupted loudly from beside them, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor from his extreme tension.

His face pale, he looked anxiously at Boer, his tone almost pleading. "L-Lord Boer! Please don't take offense! Old Hans... he's always been a little muddled up here!"

He pointed at his head. "He's always saying this nonsense! Please don't take it seriously!"

Blake screamed inwardly, Damn that old Hans! Can't he see the situation? How long have we waited for a sliver of hope like Boer! Even if it's poison, even if it's humiliating charity, we have to swallow it and stay alive first!

Reason and emotion fought fiercely within him. On one side was the crushing reality of keeping thousands of people in the mines alive; on the other was the light of the ideals deeply branded into his heart, which had once guided him to resist.

But Boer merely waved a hand casually, cutting off Blake's excuses. His gaze remained on Hans's face as he calmly posed an even more earth-shattering question:

"Just resistance against the nobility of kingdoms? Does your platform... not include overthrowing the World Government and ending the rule of the Celestial Dragons?"

Boom!

Those words were like a thunderclap, exploding without warning over the mining district!

The World Government! The Celestial Dragons! Those words represented the absolute power and order that had ruled these seas for eight hundred years, a colossal presence weighing on countless hearts, leaving people scarcely daring even to think of resistance!

Yet now, Boer, a noble from West Blue, had spoken of them so casually, as though discussing some ordinary, actionable matter.

Even Hans, a veteran revolutionary who had endured war and held firm convictions, felt dizzy, his heart pounding wildly, as though he had heard the most absurd and terrifying secret in the world.

Blake froze completely, his mind blank, able only to stare at Boer.

Boer seemed not to notice the expressions of the two men whose worldviews had shattered. He leaned back slightly, settling into a more comfortable position, and lightly tapped the metal armrest with his index finger as he continued:

"I can make a modest contribution to your cause in the Kingdom of Bernia, the land beneath our feet." Boer's tone regained its earlier composure.

"I'll open up connections between the mining district and the outside world, and build roads to the Silver Capital and the bay docks."

He lowered his voice, giving them a knowing look. "And, just between us, the bay docks have one of the largest black-market trading networks in all of West Blue..."

Then, as though suddenly remembering something, Boer lightly tapped his forehead. Under Blake's and Hans's still-shocked, bewildered gazes, he unhurriedly reached into the inner pocket of his black casual clothes and took out the Den Den Mushi that bore his white hair and impassive face.

He gently stroked the Den Den Mushi's shell. Soon, its appearance changed, taking on a face with a devil-may-care smile: Locke Hall.

"Locke, pass a few messages to the Council for me." Boer's tone became unquestionable.

"First, drop the charges previously brought against the residents of the Mountain Mining District for attacking and killing nobles. I need them to work for me with peace of mind, free of worries."

The face of Locke mimicked by the Den Den Mushi adopted an exaggerated look of difficulty. "Oh dear... Boer, that's a tricky one. When those old-established nobles hear about this, they might raise an uproar and start shouting about rebellion..."

"Wouldn't that be even better?" A cold smile curved Boer's lips. "It would give us the perfect chance for a purge, clearing out positions for people we trust. Second, take this territory directly... hmm, which Earl's domain was this again? Never mind, it doesn't matter. Designate it a free territory directly under the crown, and announce a year's exemption from taxes. Once I open up the roads, ore from here can flow steadily to the Metal Center, saving the Commonwealth a substantial sum in ore import costs."

"All right, I'll do what I can on my end. You're always stirring things up." Locke sounded a little resigned, but more than that, he approved of Boer's plan.

After ending his call with Locke, Boer deftly dialed another number.

The Den Den Mushi's appearance changed again, becoming a capable, composed face: that of his subordinate Thatch, the head of the Kingdom Security Company.

"Thatch."

"Lord Boer, what are your orders?" Thatch's voice was respectful and brisk.

"Isn't your security company just about to 'retire' a batch of old weapons and replace them with new equipment?"

Boer deliberately emphasized the word "retire." "Have those retired weapons ready. Before long, someone will come to 'receive' them. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Perfectly, Lord Boer." Thatch understood at once and agreed without hesitation. "Then when exactly will someone come to collect them?"

"Just have them ready. Someone will contact you when the time comes," Boer said.

Then he called Roland.

"It's me, Lord Boer. Please give your instructions."

"From now on, any goods or supplies the mining district purchases through our Commonwealth are to be supplied at cost." Boer's tone was emphatic. "Remember, they're our own people."

"Understood, Lord Boer. Your instructions have been recorded and will be implemented immediately." Roland's answer was concise and firm.

Having done all this, Boer returned the Den Den Mushi to his inner pocket, as though he had merely dealt with a few trivial matters.

He turned his gaze back to the two men before him, who were still dazed by the enormous flood of information, and gave them a meaningful smile.

"All right, gentlemen. I've finished giving instructions for what I intend to do." He stood, and the metal chair turned to liquid and merged into the ground.

"And give my regards to your leader, Mr. Dragon. Whenever it's convenient for him, he can send someone to collect the 'token of goodwill' I just promised."

He brushed nonexistent dust from his clothes and looked toward the rugged mountain road in the distance.