"Fish-Man Island Reform and Opening-Up Plan?"
Whitebeard's heavy gaze was fixed on Mike through the Den Den Mushi, his voice turn into a low, dangerous rumble.
"What in the hell is that?"
In all his long years at sea he had never heard such a bizarre, bureaucratic term.
It sounded like something out of a World Government textbook, not a proposal from a Marine.
"..."
Mike tilted his head, realizing his past-life jargon might have been a bit too advanced.
"It means Fish-Man Island will implement policies for internal reform and external opening-up," he explained, which only seemed to deepen the Emperor's confusion.
'Okay, simple words then,' Mike sighed internally.
"In short," he said, "it means we'll work to restore diplomatic relations between Fish-Man Island and the humans. Internally, we'll focus on boosting the island's economy and healing old wounds. Externally, we'll strengthen the island's security by sinking every single slave trader's ship that dares to approach the island. Clear enough now?"
"Restoring diplomatic relations with humans?" Whitebeard's voice was skeptical.
"Do you realize how risky it is to suddenly reopen Fish-Man Island? The Celestial Dragons—"
"Whitebeard, let's be honest," Mike cut in, his tone suddenly sharp and devoid of all laziness.
"Fish-Man Island's protection has always relied on your strength and reputation. But..." He paused, his eyes narrowing into cold, analytical slits.
"How many more years... can you actually protect them?"
The air in the Yuba hot spring instantly froze.
The playful steam seemed to turn to ice.
"Hey, kid! Do you know who you're talking to?!" an angry voice erupted from the Den Den Mushi.
It was Marco, his face appearing on the snail, his eyes sharp and furious.
"That's Pops you're talking to! No one is allowed to be that insolent!"
"Marco, stand down," Whitebeard's voice, deep as thunder from the ocean's depths, cut through his commander's anger.
Though Marco seethed, he fell silent.
Whitebeard's gaze returned to Mike, his mind a surging tide of memory and grim reality.
The brat wasn't wrong.
He remembered his younger days, sharing a drink with a proud King Neptune, the two of them watching the mermaid and fish-man children play in the beautiful coral gardens.
He remembered the promise he had made, a vow between friends, to shield this beautiful kingdom from the cruelties of the surface world.
That promise had been a bedrock of his reign.
But now... his time was running out.
The old wounds from his legendary battles ached with a deep, persistent pain.
His strength was no longer what it once was.
He looked at Marco and his heart began to ach.
What would happen to his sons, his family, after he was gone?
Would Marco be able to lead them against the coming storm?
Or would they be hunted down, their territories carved up by the likes of Kaido and Big Mom?
'Perhaps... it's time to leave them a way out,' he thought, a flicker of bitterness in his heart.
"You're right, kid," Whitebeard's voice was low, tinged with a weary contemplation.
"But can you truly eradicate the slave traders? They are backed by the nobles of this world."
"I can't," Mike chuckled lightly, his honesty disarming.
'I could,' he thought, 'but that sounds like a full-time job'.
'Am I supposed to be stationed at Fish-Man Island indefinitely?'
'I'm meant to roam the seas, plucking gold from Skypiea, drinking with beauties at Sabaody. I refuse to be tied down to one island.'
But then, an image of the beautiful mermaids from his memories flashed in his mind—their smiles, their grace, and the stories of their suffering at the hands of the World Nobles.
His carefree expression hardened.
'Damn it. Just thinking about it pisses me off. Those disgusting Celestial Dragons..'.
A new, fierce conviction ignited within him.
'Protecting the mermaid ladies starts with me, Mike!'
His plan, which had started as a simple desire for a new vacation spot, suddenly took on a new, much grander dimension.
He now needed a guardian for the island, someone with the power and reach to enforce his "Lazy Justice" even when he wasn't there.
His mind immediately jumped to a certain self-proclaimed god living on an island in the sky.
'Sorry, Enel', he thought with a wicked grin.
'Whether you like it or not, you're about to be conscripted as Fish-Man Island's new protector.'
He imagined the logistics: a quick trip to Skypiea, a "forceful negotiation" with the lightning-user, and then installing him as an all-seeing, all-smighting guardian.
'It's a perfect plan.'
"Though I can't do it myself," Mike's voice was now firm and resolute.
"I know someone who can. A man with a power that is a nightmare for any ship at sea. His Observation Haki is strong enough to blanket the entire island like a radar, sensing any approaching threat long before it arrives. Slave traders wouldn't just fail to escape; they wouldn't even be able to hide their shadows."
On the other end of the line, Whitebeard listened in silence, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the hilt of his massive bisento.
The commanders behind him waited, holding their breath. After a long moment, the Emperor finally spoke.
"Fine. I will trust you this once."
His voice was a low rumble of concession and command.
"Then, we will meet at Fish-Man Island."
"Agreed," Mike nodded, a faint, triumphant smile on his lips.
"See you at Fish-Man Island."
He patted the Kusanagi at his side.
'Well then,' he thought, his mind already racing ahead.
'First stop... Skypiea.'
-----------------------------
Read 40 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator