Castle Edward – Lord's Office
The room was warm with evening light, flickering gently off polished wood and gilded furniture. An open window invited in the salted wind from the sea, and the low murmur of distant harbor activity served as a backdrop. A heavy scent of tobacco and cedar permeated the chamber.
Argus, seated languidly on an elegant dark blue sofa, leaned back with one leg crossed. A fresh cigar smoldered in his fingers, coils of smoke dancing lazily toward the ceiling. Though an imposing figure at 300 centimeters, he was currently dwarfed—utterly—by the colossus sitting across from him.
Newgate, all 666 centimeters of him, had made a throne of barrels and reinforced chairs stacked together. He, too, held a cigar between thick fingers, its tip glowing like a dying star. His Murakumogiri leaned against the wall behind him like an ornament… if said ornament could split an island.
"Gurarara… this place," Newgate said, exhaling smoke like a dragon. "You've built a damn paradise while I've been off playing pirate."
Argus smirked, his voice smooth but brimming with intent.
"You've been sending people non-stop, Brother. They've settled well. Sally's taken administrative command with Brad and a few Ohara scholars. The infrastructure? Already in place. Roads. Grain routes. Medical stations. Even a theater in the fifth district."
Newgate raised a brow, genuinely surprised.
"You? Theater?"
Argus shrugged.
"Bread feeds the stomach. Stories feed the soul. Can't have a kingdom of warriors if they don't believe they're fighting for something."
He took another drag, letting the cigar rest between his lips as he spoke.
"We've also formed a Security Division. Divided by districts. Not elite troops—yet—but loyal and trained. Jozu's been getting involved too."
"Gurarara… That brat'll be a monster in no time," Newgate said fondly.
Argus leaned forward, eyes gleaming with ambition.
"But that's not enough. We're sitting on a goldmine, Brother. I want to turn Totto Land into a central trade nexus. A black-market capital that rivals even Karai Bari Island. We start importing shipwrights, mechanics, inventors, merchants. Voluntarily or not. The world is full of talent being wasted. We gather them… and make them ours."
Newgate's laugh echoed through the chamber.
"Gurarara! Now that's the Argus I like to see. Bold. Ruthless. Visionary."
Argus exhaled slowly.
"And that's not all. The Sea King Project? It's bearing fruit. Shella's done well. Ridgefang and Tidecoil are responding to our signals. If we can tame a few more, we can begin ferrying goods through the Calm Belt."
Newgate's grin faded slightly as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"The Calm Belt's good real estate, aye. But you know who'll be breathing fire if you move there."
Argus nodded.
"Kuja."
"Gurarara… They're fierce. And proud. You could flatten them, but you'll have trouble keeping them down. Snake pits don't like cages."
Argus rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I've got a reason to visit anyway. I was thinking: we outlaw slavery across our domain, especially targeting the Kuja. Then, we offer them a treaty. Mutual benefit. Territory autonomy in exchange for trade rights and sovereignty recognition."
Newgate cocked his head.
"Turn enemies into wives, eh? You really are a bastard."
Argus gave a crooked grin.
"Effective bastard."
"Gurarara! Damn right." Newgate leaned back, letting smoke curl from his nose. "You've got the spark of a conqueror, little brother."
Argus poured two glasses of dark rum, offering one to Newgate.
"Cheers to that."
Their mugs clinked, deep and solid.
But then Newgate's tone turned serious, almost imperceptibly. The gravity in the room shifted like a change in tide.
"There's talk. Whispers. Rocks is gathering again. Pulling in names. Big ones."
Argus didn't flinch. He simply closed his eyes and took a long sip.
"I know. But what can we do, Brother? He's a magnet for madness. Our only option is to grow stronger… faster. Once the ship Magnus is crafting is done, I'm going to scout the MADS group."
Newgate raised a brow.
"With or without consent?"
Argus met his gaze levelly.
"If they refuse, I'll make them ours. Caesar. Queen. Judge. Vegapunk… If possible. Either way, their intellect belongs to the future. Our future."
"Gurarara… You're starting to sound like Rocks himself."
"No," Argus said coldly. "I don't want power for the sake of it. I want a dynasty."
Newgate studied him a moment—then laughed and leaned back.
"Well said, little brother. That deserves a toast."
As they raised their glasses again, the topic pivoted once more.
"Speaking of dynasties…" Newgate grinned with a mischievous glint. "Don't you think it's time for more concubines? You've got three now. The harem committee's already sharpening their pens."
Argus groaned, massaging his temples with a sigh.
"Please… Not again. I haven't even memorized the last batch's birthdays yet."
Newgate barked another laugh.
"Gurarara! What a problem to have. Some men drown in debt. You're drowning in wombs."
"Thanks, Brother. Very poetic," Argus muttered dryly.
They laughed again—two titans of the sea, plotting a kingdom over cigars and rum, even as the world beyond their shores began to shift in dangerous ways.
---
Totto Land – The Rose Hall
"Elder sister."
"Elder sister!"
"Sister~~~!"
The calls rang out like birdsong across the polished marble floor. Serena—once the pampered jewel of Platter Kingdom, now the ironclad matriarch of Totto Land—stood at the center of the domed chamber, wreathed in golden light filtering through arched windows.
Graceful in posture, but commanding in presence, she was dressed simply—her robes elegant, not flamboyant. Her smile was soft, but her eyes sharp as ever. No crown adorned her head, yet none in the room doubted who reigned here.
Without fanfare, Serena had become the embodiment of motherhood—mother to the Edward Family, and guardian of its growing legacy.
She glanced across the women gathered, her tone gentle.
"Sally. Shella."
The two concubines straightened at once. They had grown used to Serena's kindness—but never dared to underestimate her authority.
"How have your bodies been lately?"
The silence that followed was heavier than expected. Sally glanced at Shella, and Shella, after a beat, gave a small shake of her head. Their expressions were painted with quiet frustration.
Serena frowned ever so slightly.
"…Still no progress?"
Both women shook their heads again. They had tried—herbs, diets, even spiritual rites. But the womb remained stubbornly silent. After birthing Gawain and Agravain with ease, their bodies now refused the call of life.
Serena's eyes narrowed.
"That's… unusual. I'll speak with Dr. Kureha and her team. Perhaps there's more to this than simple health."
She didn't say it aloud—but suspicion was beginning to bloom in her heart.
One by one, more concubines entered. Serena received them all with warmth and clarity.
"Sandy," she said, "your due date nears. Avoid stress. No unnecessary movement. Delegate everything."
"Yes, Sister," Sandy responded, bowing low.
Next came the expectants—four women glowing with early motherhood.
"Betty. Emma. Claire. Karla," Serena called. "Your health is no longer yours alone. Eat well. Think calm. No outbursts. The Edward name grows inside you."
"Yes, Sister!" the four chorused like disciples before a priestess.
Serena moved on, voice steady but warm.
"Sharon. Mina. Rose. Wendy. Donna. You've recovered?"
The five nodded in unison. "We've fully recovered, Sister."
Serena clasped her hands behind her back, surveyed the chamber, and delivered her verdict with surgical precision:
"I've made a decision."
Every head lifted. The room hushed.
"It's time," she said, "to bring in new concubines for our husband."
The air thickened. Some paled. Others bit their lips. The unspoken truth hung in the air like smoke: no kingdom would offer their daughters to pirates. The Edward Family had power, but not legitimacy.
Buying women? Kidnapping them? It would come to that. It always did.
And yet Serena stood unmoved.
"We… should have Big Brother go out and seize them," she added without a flicker of doubt.
Silence. The weight of her words pressed on every woman in the hall. Eyes widened. A few visibly tensed. Was this a test? A joke?
But Serena laughed softly—not the cackle of a jealous wife. It was a laugh of someone who had already made peace with what must be done.
"Hehehe… don't look so alarmed. This harem isn't about possession. It's about purpose. Legacy. Blood."
She lifted her chin. Light from the dome caught the edge of her features like a blade.
"If new women mean stronger heirs—better heirs—then why should I oppose it?"
There was no arrogance in her voice. Only resolve.
"We were chosen not just for beauty, but for capacity. Our job isn't to keep him for ourselves… It's to make sure that no matter what, this family endures."
She let the silence breathe—then sealed her command:
"I'll oversee the process myself. From vetting to integration. Whether future additions are legitimate wives or not, let fate decide. But harmony in this household will not be left to fate. That… is our duty."
"Yes, Sister!"
The chamber rang with agreement. The authority was not contested—only obeyed.
Whispers followed. Criteria were debated. Names mentioned. Nobility? Talent? Fruit users? Daughters of fallen houses? Merchant daughters with rare talents?
Serena stood at the center of it all. Calm. Focused. Her hands folded across her waist as if balancing the future itself.
---
(CHAPTER END)