Ron tapped his finger again, and a prediction simulation popped up on the panel:
[Scenario Simulation: Forcibly killing Uta]
Red Hair Pirates deathmatch probability: 100%
Kaido/Yamato intervention probability: 95%
Marine disobedience/betrayal probability: 78%
Global riot probability at the moment of Uta's death: 62%
God's Knights forced to intervene early probability: 100%
Final result: The World Government wins a tactical victory but will trigger a global wave of resistance, with the ruling system facing the risk of collapse.
In the simulation, the moment Uta fell, flames of anger erupted across the world, Marine fleets turned their cannons, and the flags of the Revolutionary Army rose from the ruins.
"Of course," Ron closed the simulation, "you can also choose another way."
He waved his hand, and the panel refreshed:
[Proposal: Business]
Party A (World Government) must agree to:
Immediately cease all pursuit and harmful actions against Uta
Acknowledge this Elegia incident as an "accidental conflict" and not conduct any subsequent liquidation of any participating parties
Open up partial content moderation permissions, allowing TikTok/Tomato Novel to pilot operations in parts of Mary Geoise
Party B (Ron's side) will provide:
Immediate shutdown of the global live broadcast (all battle footage will disappear from the network within 30 seconds)
Public opinion guidance package: Positive narrative pushed via algorithms about "The Gorosei heroically suppressing the pirate riot"
Technical support: Provide a temporary stabilization plan for Satan Saint's "rule trauma" (Note: not a cure, just maintaining the status quo)
Future cooperation window: Partial functions of the God-level Entertainment System can be targetedly opened to the World Government
Transaction validity: Three years
Breach of contract clause: If Party A breaches, Party B will fully disclose all raw battle data, high-definition close-ups of Satan Saint's heart being pierced, and recordings of Marine disobedience; if Party B breaches, Party A has the right to... (clauses blurred)
Silence, deeper than before.
This time, even Shanks frowned slightly.
He looked at Ron, and for the first time, complex emotions other than scrutiny appeared in his eyes. This person... was using the logic of business negotiations to deconstruct divine power?
Kaido's dragon nostrils puffed out two streams of steam mixed with blood foam: "Worororo... Interesting!"
He understood. This man didn't come to fight; he came to dismantle the stage. Using data, public opinion, and those empty "probabilities" and "losses" to pull the gods down to the mortal negotiation table.
And Aokiji, standing on the ice, hands in his pockets, his eyes under the brim of his hat shining slightly.
So... it could be done this way.
Not confrontation, not submission, but a transaction. Using the "mortal perspective" that the gods care about the least to calculate the "ruling costs" they couldn't calculate.
"Absurd." Saint Nusjuro's voice sounded like rusted blades rubbing together, "Do you think you can threaten gods with these number games?"
Ron smiled.
Not a cold sneer, not mockery, but a professional, patient smile one gives when a client asks a childish question.
"Not a threat, Saint Nusjuro," he corrected, "it's a risk assessment."
He swiped his finger, and a new image popped up on the panel:
It was the real-time reactions of people all over the world captured by tens of thousands of mobile phone cameras. Broken wine glasses in taverns, torn World Government flags in squares, the worship in children's eyes for the "God-slaying Red Hair", the elderly trembling as they said "so they can bleed too"...
"Eight hundred years," Ron said softly, "the foundation of your rule has never been strength itself, but fear and inertia."
"Fear of your power, fear of the cost of resistance."
"Inertia in your order, inertia in having no other choice."
His gaze swept over the Gorosei, across the distant surviving Marines, across Shanks and Kaido, and finally landed back on the pulsating faces on the panel:
"But now, the fear has been broken—Satan Saint's heart is bleeding right there, and 1.8 billion people are watching."
"The inertia has also been broken—turns out there are people who won't kneel, turns out the Four Emperors dare to swing their swords at gods, turns out the Marines... will also hesitate."
Ron put away the panel and spread his hands:
"So, this isn't a battle of 'can we win'. This is a strategic choice of 'what will the world become after winning'."
He looked at Saint Mars, his tone as sincere as if he were making suggestions to a big client:
"You can certainly kill everyone here. But then what? 1.8 billion people have already seen the truth, and suppression will only create more rebels. The rift in the Marines has already been created, and forcing it shut will only leave deeper scars. And your most core secret—'the truth and weakness of immortality'—has already been exposed to the people who should least know it."
He glanced at Shanks.
The hand Shanks used to grip his sword tightened slightly.
"Therefore," Ron summarized, "my proposal is very simple: use a decent 'transaction' to cover up an indecent 'failure'. You keep the face of your rule, and we keep the people we want to protect. Three years is enough for you to re-weave fear, and enough for me..."
He paused, his smile deepening:
"...to develop more interesting entertainment projects."
The sea breeze blew, bringing a thick smell of blood.
The Gorosei were silent.
Not hesitation, but digesting this completely unfamiliar "negotiation logic". For eight hundred years, they had faced countless challenges—rebellions, wars, revolutions, the ambition of pirates. Every time, the solution was simple: crush them with absolute power.
But this time, this man turned the problem into: after crushing them, what is the cost?
And that cost... for the first time, they were forced to calculate it.
"What if," Saint Pitou's giant sand worm mouthparts opened and closed, his voice as dull as an earthquake, "we refuse?"
Ron shrugged.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Snap.
The crisp sound was particularly harsh in the silence.
The next second—
Hum—!!!
Centered on Elegia, an invisible ripple instantly spread, sweeping across the sea, across the Red Line, across every corner of the world.
All mobile phones and Den Den Mushi screens watching the live broadcast went black simultaneously.
Immediately after, the screens lit up, displaying a line of elegant artistic text:
[Live broadcast signal interrupted]
[Thanks for watching, exciting replays coming soon, stay tuned]
Then, the screen jumped back to the normal TikTok interface.
Cats dancing.
Food tutorials.
Funny skits.
As if the god-slaying battle just now was just an overly realistic special effects movie.
On the edge of the battlefield, a pirate streamer stared blankly at the phone, fingers sliding frantically: "It's gone... it's all gone... my live room... my tips..."
Ron's voice sounded again, this time with a hint of apology:
"Ah, sorry, just a demonstration. It was just a temporary block, the data is still there. But if you all refuse..."
He didn't finish.
But everyone understood.
------------------------
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