The music died down.
With an arm around Stella's waist, Gild Tesoro guided her into a private suite. The floor rippled, and a round headed man popped up from below, waddling after them.
Tesoro glanced back at Mr. Tanaka, then patted Stella's shoulder with an easy smile. "Go get some rest. I have a little business to handle."
Stella understood. She knew exactly for whom Tesoro now worked, and that man was also the one who had changed their fate. She said nothing more, hugged Tesoro once, and slipped away to their quarters.
"Speak. What happened."
In these early days of the Gran Tesoro's expansion, there was always something for the Golden Prince to do. For all the grandeur, he was a very well paid employee in a structure that ultimately belonged to someone else. Ozz would not strip his people of their wealth, but the title of master was still his.
"A few Celestial Dragons lost big in the casino," Mr. Tanaka reported, tone weary. "They tried to gun down the winners. We stopped them. They threatened to call in an admiral."
Tesoro's reaction was mild. He crossed one leg over the other and let a golden tendril rise from the floor to place a glass in his hand. He took his time, drained it, and only then snorted.
"Celestial Dragons."
"An admiral."
"Heh."
He lifted his gold visor to the crown of his head. Confidence sharpened his gaze.
"Let them come."
"From today we fix this at the root. No more business getting kneecapped by some celestial tantrum."
Blue sparks crawled over his ring as another tendril presented a lavishly carved transponder snail. He did not dial.
"Tell them this. If they want to make a scene, go right ahead."
"Do they know whose waters they are in. This is the Gran Tesoro, Lord Ozz's favorite playground. He even lives aboard from time to time."
Shadow cooled Tesoro's face. He spread both arms wide, intoxicated on the scale of his own success.
"Send an admiral to sink us. If they have the nerve, let them try."
"If they are ready to eat Lord Ozz's wrath, by all means."
A tall red haired beauty by his side laughed softly.
"The Navy will never choose a fight with Lord Ozz. Not over this."
Baccarat flicked a curl over her shoulder. Her certainty was a mirror of Tesoro's own. Mr. Tanaka nodded despite himself. The logic was solid.
Celestial Dragons could spend freely here. If they wanted to start trouble, even they would not be able to overturn the house. Not on this ship.
Things going right had swollen Tesoro's heart. On the Gran Tesoro, he decided everything below Ozz. King of a golden country, one man beneath the throne, ten thousand souls beneath him. When Ozz was away, the river of coin warmed him until he believed money could buy the world.
Even laughter belonged to him. Who laughed first, and at what, was Tesoro's decree.
Ozz had taught him that money was everything, and the lesson had sunk all the way to the bone. Only Stella could still call out a gentler man from inside that armor.
"Forget those so called Celestial Dragons. Move ahead on what I told you earlier. Powder the entry corridors with gold dust fine enough to enter the body. Baccarat's luck will do the rest."
Tesoro threw his head back and laughed, seeing his future bright as the chandelier above.
"With this, I will become the richest man in the world."
Not only Doflamingo and Tesoro. Almost all of Ozz's lieutenants believed the same thing in this moment. Their lord had put both feet on the summit of force. From now on the sky was open and the stage belonged to them.
The battle had not only been about Fish Man Island. It marked a rapid shift in the order of the world.
So many pieces moved at once that even the Five Elders called an emergency session.
Holy Land Mariejois. The Room of Authority.
The five old men traded reports and proposed counterweights. The sea had fallen into a fever again. Ozz was its brightest sun. Young pirates were pushing out of every port, dreaming of the One Piece, pointing to Ozz's shadow and craving the same roar of fame.
"Some plans need to be advanced," one said.
"Indeed. Ozz's public face is still that of a pirate with an enormous bounty. He has stoked this pirate boom."
"Then we will borrow his momentum to cool the sea. These upstarts have thrown the world into chaos. Even Ozz himself shows respect to the World Government."
They moved quickly, as only the supreme authority could.
"We will establish the Warlords of the Sea. Give the allied nations and the wavering powers a strong sedative."
Next morning, a proclamation rolled across the globe. The Warlords of the Sea were officially formed. The seven great pirates would act under the authority of the World Government and in its interest. The names were as follows.
Hawkeye Dracule Mihawk.
Desert Crocodile, Sir Crocodile.
Heavenly Yaksha, Donquixote Doflamingo.
Hanafuda, the Lizard King.
Moonlight, Gecko Moria.
The Tyrant, Bartholomew Kuma.
God of Thunder, Enel.
On that last name the World Government finally abandoned the dream of recruiting Ozz himself. They settled on another power worthy of the seat. With Ozz's tacit approval, Enel would fill the chair for now. If a better fit emerged, they would switch him out. Enel declared he did not care either way.
Thus the Warlords, the third pillar beside the Emperors and the Navy, stepped onto the stage ahead of schedule.
The announcement turned every head on the sea. The government's goal was instantly, almost unnervingly, achieved.
People noticed at once that more than half of the Warlords were tied directly to Dotor Ozz. Speculation erupted. Ozz and the World Government must share bonds no one understood. Ozz had sent his own men to stand as its banner.
The result surprised even those who had planned it.
The whole sea, with Ozz at its center, found a new balance.
In casinos from Sabaody to Spider Miles, men lowered their voices. On merchant decks flags changed quietly. In the back rooms of kings, ministers drew new maps. On back alleys in Water Seven and in the slums of Mock Town, dreamers argued under posters bearing a black sun.
A gambler flung his last chips and grinned at the poster nailed to the beam above the table. The Black Moon flag stared back. The message was simple enough for anyone to read. In this age, a man could make a throne by tying himself to the right star.
In the Navy, Sengoku sharpened his quill and wrote a line that no one else would ever see. The Warlords would bring a measure of calm. They would also knit the government and Ozz together in a way that could not be cut without blood. He filed the thought beside a dozen others and rang again for tea.
On the Gran Tesoro, Baccarat's laugh chimed like glass. Mr. Tanaka dissolved through a wall to set the new gears in motion. Tesoro stood on a balcony, all gold and glow, and looked out over a city that moved as he willed.
"Let them come," he said to no one, smiling. "Let them all come."
On Dressrosa's sunny throne, Doflamingo tossed the paper into the air and let it fall. The headline fluttered back to him. The Black Emperor's era. He liked the taste of it.
On the seafloor, fish men passed the news from hand to hand, eyes wide. On Whitebeard's deck, sons nodded grimly and tightened straps and laces. In a little bar on Sabaody, a woman cleaned a glass and told a newcomer to hush. The broadcast had ended. The echoes would take a long time to fade.
Balance had returned. It was not the old balance with its fixed corners and simple rules. It was a new shape, pulled into place by a single name.
Ozz.
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