"I want a little 'variable'," Ron smiled, a smile carrying a kind of almost innocent madness. "A little unexpected, a little possibility, a little... 'excitement' that even the gods cannot predict."
"So you threw phones into the sea, let the Empress live-stream dancing, let Big Mom film CEO short dramas, and let Kaido play games?" Shanks asked.
"Yes," Ron nodded. "Then I discovered that simple entertainment isn't enough—it can make the world interesting, but it can't change its essence. To change the essence, one needs..."
He paused and spat out two words:
"Conflict."
"Not a conflict of violence, but a conflict of concepts, a conflict of cognition, a conflict of'so the world can actually be like this'."
Ron's eyes sparkled under the Moonlight. "Today, 1.8 billion people saw 'God' bleed. Most of them will still be afraid, will obey, and will return to their old lives. But there will definitely be a small portion—perhaps only one in ten thousand, or even one in a million—who will start to think: Since God can bleed, is God really God? Since rules can be severed, are rules really absolute?"
He spread his hands as if to embrace the entire night sky:
"These thoughts, these questions, these restless 'possibilities'... are the most interesting things."
Shanks watched him quietly for a long time, then suddenly laughed.
The laughter was low, carrying weariness, yet also a hint of relief.
"You're a madman, Ron."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Shanks tucked the chip into his coat. "I'll look at the files. Also..." He looked toward the distant pier at Yamato, who was helping Uta tidy her hair. "I'll leave Uta to you. It's too dangerous for her to stay by my side in the short term."
"Don't worry," Ron nodded. "I'll arrange the safest place for her—by the way, maybe I can help her start a concert live stream? 'The Diva's Debut After Survival' should be able to hit the top of the trending list."
Shanks shook his head with a laugh and turned toward the Red Force.
After a few steps, he stopped, without looking back:
"Ron."
"Hmm?"
"Three months from now, when you go to Mary Geoise... do you need help?"
Ron smiled. "Not for now. After all, I still have 'business' to discuss with the Gorosei."
Shanks nodded and leapt onto the deck.
The sails of the Red Force rose slowly, swelling in the night wind. The ship turned and sailed toward the depths of the sea.
As dawn approached, only a few people remained on the ruins of Elegia.
Yamato sat on a broken stone pillar; Uta had fallen asleep leaning on her shoulder, her breathing steady. Ron stood beside them, watching the first glimmer of light appear on the eastern horizon.
"Mr. Ron," Yamato asked softly, "where are we going next?"
Ron pulled a folded sea chart from his coat and unfolded it. Dozens of light spots were marked on the chart, some bright, some dim.
"We'll go here first." He pointed to an island at the edge of the New World marked with a golden musical note. "'Melody Island', my system has a branch established there. Uta can recuperate there, and meanwhile... test the compatibility between her ability and the system."
Yamato blinked. "Compatibility?"
"Yes." Ron put away the chart. "The essence of the song-song fruit's ability is 'turning imagination into reality'—through music, dragging the audience into the 'Uta World' she constructs. And my system, in essence, is also 'constructing virtual worlds'. If the two can be combined..."
He didn't finish, but Yamato understood.
That would be a brand new kind of 'entertainment' that transcends existing cognition.
Or rather... 'power'.
"What about you?" Yamato asked. "Are you coming with us to Melody Island?"
Ron shook his head. "I'm going somewhere else first."
He looked toward the north, his gaze seemingly piercing through the distant seas:
"It's time to meet some 'partners'."
In the east, the morning sun finally leapt above the sea level.
Golden light tore through the night, spilling over the charred ruins, the calm sea, and the three people standing in the morning light.
The fires of Elegia were completely extinguished.
But in the ashes, new sparks had already been buried.
And in every corner of the world—
Countless people woke up from their dreams, instinctively picked up their phones, and opened TikTok.
The live stream had ended.
But on the trending list, over a dozen related topics were still scrolling frantically.
Some questioned.
Some feared.
Some were excited.
Some... behind their screens, quietly clenched their fists.
A new day had begun.
But this world was already different from yesterday.
Meanwhile, in Mary Geoise, the Hall of Authority.
Saint Mars stood before a massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the dawn outside. In his hand, he held the small vial containing the Life Essence; the white light within flowed steadily, without a hint of disorder.
Behind him, Saint Nusjuro's voice rang out deeply:
"We're just letting them go like this?"
"For now." Saint Mars didn't look back. "Saturn needs treatment, the Marine needs reassurance, public opinion needs to be controlled... Our primary task now is to cut our losses, not expand them."
"That Ron..." Saint V. Warcury's voice carried a cold killing intent. "He must die."
"He will die," Saint Mars said calmly. "But not now. Three months from now, when he comes to Mary Geoise..."
He didn't finish.
But the other three members of the Gorosei all understood.
Some places, once you enter, you don't come out.
Saint Mars raised his hand, looking at the small vial in his palm. The white light reflected off his rigid face, appearing exceptionally eerie in the morning light.
"God-Level Entertainment System..." he repeated the name in a low voice, "How interesting."
When the sun had completely leapt above the horizon, the ruins of Elegia were almost empty.
The Hippopotamus Sea King carrying Ron, Yamato, and the sleeping Uta slowly submerged into the deep sea, leaving only a circle of gradually spreading ripples on the surface. The Red Hair Pirates' Red Force had long since turned into a distant black dot. Kaido of the Beasts flapped his wings toward Onigashima, the roar of dragon wings striking the air gradually fading away.
Only Kuzan remained on the shore.
He stood on the ice, looking at the wreckage of warships floating in the seawater, charred flag fragments, and the bodies of Marine soldiers who would never return home. The morning light stretched his shadow long, his ice-blue Justice coat swaying slightly in the wind.
"Kuzan."
A low voice came from behind him.
Akainu stood at the edge of the ruins, his magma fists already extinguished, with a temporary bandage wrapped around his right arm—a wound left by Kaido's final strike. His expression was gloomier than usual, and there was an almost burning suppression in his eyes.
"Sakazuki." Kuzan didn't look back. "Is the fleet fully assembled?"
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