Garling's Plan for a Stronger Future
Just as everyone was falling into despair, footsteps echoed down the passage. There was more than one person-there were two!
Everyone trembled and stared unblinkingly into the dark passage.
Rosy and Sullivan forgot to cry.
With salt-and-pepper chicken wings, chocolate, cookies, and fruit salad stuffed in his mouth, Doffy stared intently at the exit. Two grapes rolled gently out of his mouth...
"Sullivan! Bring me my food box. I'm starving to death...
Huh? Doffy, if you're going to sneak food, could you at least not waste it?
Salty and sweet together. You've got unusual tastes..."
Lu Ye was in tatters, his floral shirt hanging in strips. He looked like the young master of the Beggars' Sect out on the town.
He swaggered along beside Garling, shouting before he had even emerged.
Doffy and Rosy's little mouths puckered, and at almost the same moment, they jumped up and hung from Lu Ye's neck.
His two older brothers were one meter and 1.2 meters tall, respectively, and neither was particularly heavy, but the pain still made Lu Ye hiss and gasp.
Garling's beating had broken at least seven or eight of Lu Ye's bones.
Once the Armament Haki faded, he was bound to be black and blue underneath.
Garling beckoned Hoffman over and gave him a few quiet instructions.
He turned and gave Lu Ye a wicked smile.
Doffy and Rosy nearly wet themselves in fright.
Fortunately, after that smile, Garling used Geppo to leave through the air.
Lu Ye squatted outside the arena and enjoyed a hearty meal. Sullivan sent the swordsman chef to fetch another helping, and the Armament Haki finally receded to Lu Ye's wrist.
Mjosgard circled Lu Ye several times, clicking his tongue in wonder:
"You're the first person in all these years to survive an execution by Lord Garling. Longinus, can you share how you did it?"
Lu Ye shrugged and said frankly, "My uncle Garling and I agreed to fight to the death when I turn twenty. If I can't surpass him by then, I die!"
Mjosgard's eyes nearly popped out of his square head, and snot hung from his nose as he said blankly:
"That's Hero King Garling! The Garling who crushed the Rocks Pirates at God Valley!"
Lu Ye chuckled dismissively and pointed his chopsticks at the sky:
"Rocks was nothing but a mad dog. My uncle only had the advantage of being born earlier, which was how he made his name so early.
If you want heroes, look to me and you gentlemen!"
"Fuffuffuffu..."
Doffy puffed out his chest, his sunglasses reflecting a wise light. "Longinus, you took the words right out of my mouth. I'd like to fight Garling fair and square too."
Rosy slapped his thigh and said guilelessly, "That's right, our third brother is the real Hero King!"
Mjosgard shrank back and resolved to draw a clear line between himself and the Donquixotes...
That family name was definitely cursed!
A bunch of his cousins were spurring their horses down the road to their deaths. The Donquixote family's future looked utterly bleak!
As they talked and laughed, Hoffman bowed and reminded Lu Ye:
"Saint Longinus, when Saint Garling departed, he instructed me to bring Butler Sullivan to speak with him once the effects of your Haki had worn off."
Sullivan jolted. How did I get dragged into this too?!
One moment, he had thought his career was over, and the next...
Heh heh! It's my life that's over!
What the hell kind of life is this?!
Lu Ye patted Sullivan on the shoulder and reassured him. "Don't worry. At least until I turn twenty, my uncle and I will get along just fine. Nothing will happen."
Sullivan nodded dejectedly. Tucked under Hoffman's arm, he was carried all the way to Pangaea Castle with a combination of Soru and Geppo-
Garling's residence.
Having dealt with Lu Ye's situation, Garling was enjoying his lunch.
Masters of physical combat had enormous appetites. A table nearly fifteen meters long was covered with all manner of delicacies, and two maids steadily rearranged the food and cleared away empty plates throughout the meal.
It was an exceedingly lavish meal. Sullivan and Hoffman waited outside for nearly an hour before they heard the clear chime of a golden bell.
"Saint Garling!"
Sullivan was drenched in cold sweat. Upon entering, he fell to his knees with a thud.
Garling swirled his glass of red wine and said mildly:
"Sullivan, I know you've always wondered why I chose you, why I personally assigned you as Longinus's private butler two years ago..."
Sullivan did not dare raise his head, although he had indeed wanted to ask.
"Longinus is a child I've taken an interest in. His talent far surpasses anyone I know, myself included. He has the potential to keep the Holy Land safe and sound for at least fifty years."
Sullivan felt as though a cat were scratching at his heart. What does that have to do with me?
Paper rustled as it was unfolded, and Garling continued:
"Sullivan, born in the Peli Kingdom of the North Blue in the year 1460 of the Sea Circle Calendar. Both your parents were commoners. In 1465, you were orphaned when pirates attacked your town.
"In 1468, the Peli Kingdom failed to pay enough Heavenly Tribute and handed over a group of children under ten, including you, to the World Government in lieu of payment. You were enrolled in the Holy Land's butler training program, and you, Sullivan, had the best results of your class.
"After entering the Holy Land, you served as a child's butler in the nursery for ten years, yet you repeatedly declined promotions to become a Celestial Dragon young master's private butler.
"Sullivan, what were you thinking?"
Cold sweat poured down Sullivan's body, and he shook like a leaf. "S-Saint Garling, I, I..."
An unconcerned chuckle sounded above him.
"Although you've never mentioned it to anyone, you can't agree with some of our actions. Only when you're in the nursery, facing babies as blank as sheets of paper, are you not overly nervous."
Sullivan's voice trembled, his forehead pressed against the carpet. "Saint Garling, I, I was just very afraid..."
"But that's why you were chosen..."
Garling said mildly:
"At least until his mind matured, I hoped his private butler wouldn't try to be clever and use those vile slave games to entertain him.
"Pursuing strength and protecting the Holy Land are his mission.
"Judging by the results, you've done very well. The child's mental development has been quite satisfactory.
"This is your reward for your hard work over this time."
Sullivan raised his head slightly. A pair of fair-skinned lower legs drifted into view, bare feet slipped into calfskin shoes.
Then a silver serving tray was lowered. Its cover opened, revealing a strangely shaped fruit.
"This is a Zoan-type Bat-Bat Fruit, Model: Fruit Bat. It grants the valuable ability to fly, which should be enough to keep you alive in most situations."
Garling continued unhurriedly:
"After our brief encounter today, I believe Longinus has matured enough to embark on the Path of the Strong I laid out for him.
"That path is full of bloodshed and death. You'll need to take care of his daily needs, so I don't want you dropping dead too easily."
Hoffman bowed and asked, "Saint Garling, may we begin guiding Saint Longinus's training?"
Garling nodded. "Yes. You and Sullivan will carry it out together. That's why I summoned you both."
Hoffman glanced at Sullivan, who was trembling like a quail, and asked in puzzlement:
"Saint Garling, I don't quite understand. Would it be inappropriate to tell Sullivan and me the entire plan?
"If Saint Longinus asks about today's conversation, I'm worried Sullivan won't be able to withstand the pressure and will tell him everything.
"If Saint Longinus dislikes your arrangements and becomes rebellious, wouldn't that do more harm than good?"
Garling raised his wineglass and gave him an enigmatic smile:
"Rest assured. You don't understand him yet. He's even prouder than I am.
"He won't ask. He won't even care what we talked about, or what you've planned for him...
"Just as I did back then, he'll simply keep moving forward until he's too strong for even the person behind the plan to control."
Sullivan blinked. "But what if Saint Longinus really does ask?"
"Then tell him directly!"
Garling smiled faintly. "In any case, with how proud he is, that could never happen."
Hoffman thought back over the three years they had spent together:
Lu Ye's words could be abrasive, and he liked rolling his eyes at people, but he didn't seem proud in the least. He often shared roast meat with those around him and was quite approachable.
But since that was Saint Garling's judgment, Hoffman bowed, picked up Sullivan, and withdrew.