The three of them talked for a long time, mostly about things that had happened before Roger's death.
One way or another, the Golden Lion still managed to use his prestige as an overlord of the old era to draw quite a bit of investment from Orin.
In the end, it was because Orin was interested in those pseudo-Mythical Zoan powers. If they could create something like a yellow mouse that could generate electricity, Orin wouldn't mind capturing a few to play with.
He treated it as an investment in a scientific research project.
Just like Vegapunk, who swallowed up massive amounts of Orin's funds every year.
Even Caesar, working under Doflamingo, had some of his weapon experiments subsidized by Orin.
Doflamingo, as one of the underground world's big shots, certainly had plenty of money, but not enough to burn endlessly on research.
The three of them drank and chatted. Perched on Orin's shoulder, the Seagull King looked around, then a breeze lifted off its body, carrying it to the side.
Orin didn't stop it. The Seagull King flapped its wings lightly and flew toward Marco.
At this moment, Marco was leaning against a barrel, bored out of his mind as he watched the three men drink and talk.
When the Seagull King suddenly approached, his body stiffened in an instant.
"Hey!!! What the hell are you trying to do?!!!"
As a fellow Mythical Zoan bird-type user, Marco was wary of the Seagull King. When it drew close, even a few wisps of blue flame flickered around his body.
But the Seagull King ignored him, only flapping its wings to blow Marco's flames aside.
"Squawk—" (Don't get in my way.)
It went straight to stand on the barrel Marco had been leaning on. Signaling him to move over, the Seagull King then found the perfect angle, pulled out a camera hidden in its feathers, and aimed at the scene.
Click—
Orin sat in the middle.
Whitebeard, holding a sake bowl, sat on the left, while the Golden Lion, cigar in his mouth, sat on the right.
A commemorative photograph, freshly developed—something that could be kept as a collectible or published in the news to sell newspapers.
...
Leaving behind a note for the Golden Lion, Orin left.
The note bore his personal signature, allowing one to withdraw funds from any major underground power at any time.
Such a trivial matter wasn't worth Orin making the trip himself.
High above the clouds, Orin sat on the Seagull King's back, holding the photo it had just taken.
"Interesting. A gathering of the remnants of the old era, is it?"
They had nearly gathered all three of the great overlords of the old era.
Unfortunately, the man at Orin's waist in the photo wasn't Captain Roger, but Roger's most prized crewmate—Orin himself.
Of course, by the next day, the photo had already appeared in the World Economic News, with Morgans once again showing his unparalleled flair for headlines:
"Meeting of the Sea's Overlords: Three Absolute Rulers of the Seas"
"Shocking Revelations—The Man Discussed by Black Emperor, Whitebeard, and the Golden Lion Is…!"
"The Future of the Seas? An Era Spiraling Out of Control!!!"
...
" Elder-sama, Elder-sama, bad news…"
A breathless guard came running through the Holy Land, drawing the attention of the five old men.
"What is it?"
Unhurried, the five, whether seated or standing, turned to the panicked guard. Their eyes brimmed with displeasure—and a trace of doubt.
"Our intelligence personnel, and reports in the World Economic News, indicate…"
"Whitebeard, one of the Yonko, met with the Golden Lion, once one of the great overlords of the seas. And not only that—alongside them was…"
He hesitated briefly, but still forced the words out:
"Also present was the Emperor of the Underworld—Saint Orin-sama!!!"
"Nani?!!!"
"What did you say?!!!"
Dark lines clouded their faces. Cold sweat dripped down as Saint Shepherd Ju Peter's pupils shrank—especially after hearing the next part of the report.
"According to CP0 member Stussy, also an underworld leader, not long afterward, the Golden Lion Shiki arrived at an underground bank. Using Orin-sama's name, he withdrew a sum of astronomical proportions, then flew off with vast amounts of cash and treasure!!!"
The five exchanged glances.
After the messenger withdrew, they finally picked up the delivered newspaper and examined it carefully.
"Whitebeard, Golden Lion… and Orin…"
"These names appearing together is no good. And worse, they seem to be getting along rather well."
Saint Saturn's expression darkened, his cold eyes fixed on the image of the three men drinking together.
"More importantly, why would Orin provide Shiki with so much funding? Could it be that he intends to help him rebuild the Flying Pirate Crew?"
To the World Government, the Golden Lion was, in many ways, an even greater threat than other great pirates.
After all, his ambition was to replace the World Government itself—and rule the entire world.
"No…"
As their discussion heated, a voice cut through.
They turned as one—it was Saint Topman Warcury.
"If Orin had such ambitions, he'd have no need to cooperate with Shiki. The current Shiki's power has already fallen well below the top echelon of the seas. Besides, after all these years, haven't you learned what kind of man Orin is?"
The room fell silent.
They had to admit, his words made sense. Based on their understanding of Orin, plotting world domination in cahoots with others was highly unlikely.
"Then send people to keep tabs on Shiki. For now, we won't overreact to this matter."
"Agreed!"
"Agreed!"
...
Alabasta.
Here once again, resuming her grand venture, Crocodile held a newspaper in one hand, seeing Orin's name in the news after so long.
"This guy… always manages to be the center of attention."
"Pfft—"
As she read, a few pirates crept up on her. Seizing the moment of distraction, they drove their blades into Crocodile's body.
"Hahahahaha!!! So this is a Shichibukai? Not so tough after all!!!"
"That was easy! Next, I'll take the Black Emperor's head myself!!!"
Even with weapons sticking out of her body, Crocodile barely reacted. Instead, her eyes—like a corpse's—locked on the arrogant pirate leading them.
"Kill the Black Emperor?"
Slowly raising her golden hook, endless sand began to swirl around her. The violent storm of grit made it impossible for anyone to keep their eyes open.
Buildings eroded, trees withered.
In mere moments, the pirates who dared to provoke her were reduced to shriveled corpses, buried forever in the desert sands.
"Don't talk big. Idiots like you… There are countless like you across the sea!"