"Hmm," Raleigh leaned forward, his voice dropping into a casual, conspiratorial tone.
He propped his chin on his steepled fingers.
"So... I heard a nasty rumor. I heard you gentlemen think our North Blue Marines are... mmm, incompetent. That we haven't been suppressing pirates enough. Is that right?"
The air in the room, already thin, practically evaporated.
The fat official's smile froze.
"Ah," Raleigh continued, a fake, mournful smile on his face.
"To be honest with you, it has been tough. Ever since Vice Admiral Sakazuki left, pirates in the North Blue have been sprouting up like weeds. Just suppressing them has taken too much energy. We're stretched thin. We have no time... no resources... to go all the way to the Eryoku Kingdom."
Hearing this, the fat official didn't just feel relief; he felt like a man who'd just been told his execution was downgraded to a stern talking-to.
This was a script he understood!
"It's all a misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!" he blustered, waving his hands frantically.
"A misunderstanding?" Raleigh raised his pitch, his eyes wide with fake innocence.
"But I heard... I heard someone wants to reduce the North Blue Marines' military funds? Because of our 'poor performance'?"
The fat official's eyes narrowed. He was being played. But Raleigh held all the cards.
"That... that must be misinformation from subordinates!" he said, forcing a smile so wide it looked painful.
"We've always believed the North Blue Marines have made outstanding contributions to security! In fact, we're actually planning to allocate special funds to the Marines as additional military expenses. For your... outstanding efforts!"
"Special funds?" Raleigh looked at the official with a wonderfully foolish, blank expression.
"What are those?"
"Special funds are..." The fat official began to sweat again.
He was wiping his brow, trying to calculate how to explain this "bribe" in a way that didn't sound like one.
"It's, ah... a discretionary..."
"You don't even understand special funds, Raleigh?"
Squeeeeeak.
Borsalino, who had been a silent, back-facing statue, suddenly swiveled his chair around.
He had a look of pure, lazy contentment on his face.
"Oooooh, what the gentleman means," Borsalino drawled, "is giving the North Blue Marines 100 million Belly in cash. As... mmm... recognition for our service."
He beamed at the official. "Isn't that right, sir?"
The fat official, who had climbed the ranks over many, many years, felt a cold dread in his stomach.
He couldn't possibly fail to understand this perfectly coordinated, shameless shakedown.
He was suffering.
Deeply.
If this uprising broke out, the official position he had worked so hard to obtain, the one that let him skim so much off the top, might be lost.
As for the 100 million Belly... it wasn't coming from his pocket, anyway.
As long as it was filed under "Discretionary Security spending," it complied with regulations.
Even his superiors couldn't say anything.
Wiping a river of sweat from his forehead, he managed to choke out.
"Yes... yes! What Vice Admiral Borsalino said is... exactly what I meant."
"Please continue."
Squeeeeeak.
Having obtained a satisfactory answer, Borsalino swiveled his chair back around, facing the wall once more.
"Old fox!" The fat official cursed Borsalino's cunning in his heart, while his face remained a mask of calm, professional composure.
Raleigh, for his part, looked quite satisfied.
But then, just as the official was about to finalize the deal, a deep, troubling trace of worry appeared on Raleigh's face.
"Your Excellency has truly been good to our Marines," Raleigh said, his voice thick with emotion.
"We are willing to go through fire and water for you." He sighed, slumping. "However... I recently got into some... trouble. I was on a small island, and I encountered a Mafia boss. A punk named Doflamingo. Long story short, I... well... I ended up beating him up. Pretty badly. And now," he glanced sadly at his brother's back.
"I've been placed under house arrest by Vice Admiral Borsalino." He spread his hands helplessly.
"Although I very much want to help Your Excellency, I cannot disobey military orders. My hands are tied."
The fat official let out a soft, strangled sigh.
Doflamingo.
He knew that name.
A former Celestial Dragon.
The one whose father voluntarily renounced their status.
This person's background was... complicated
. Raleigh beating him up wasn't really a major issue.
Celestial Dragons must not be offended, but that didn't apply to someone who had lost their status.
Besides, Raleigh hadn't killed him.
Just... injured him.
When reporting this, they could just polish the story.
Say they "sparred." A minor incident.
Huh? Wait a moment...
The realization hit the official like a physical blow.
This guy... this guy is asking me to clean up his mess!
This wasn't just a shakedown for money.
This was Round 2.
Beating up a former Celestial Dragon was neither a major nor a minor offense.
In the past, it would have been dismissed. Marines fighting the Mafia? Perfectly normal.
But now? During this sensitive period where the World Government was actively looking for excuses to target the Marines? The slightest misstep, especially one involving any noble blood, could be blown up to affect the World Nobles' overall plans.
Looking at the innocent, smiling, "helpless" Raleigh, the portly official couldn't help but feel a hot spike of anger. ...
However, he took a breath.
The World Nobles' plans wouldn't be immediately affected. And Doflamingo hadn't reported it.
It was still contained.
Therefore, this matter was... negotiable.
The official's entire demeanor changed.
He drew himself up, his face becoming a mask of righteous conviction.
He practically boomed: "I have never heard of this incident! A Mafia boss? Rear Admiral Raleigh was simply eliminating a public menace! He was setting an example for the entire Marines to follow! An act of pure justice!"
Hearing this, Raleigh's smile became genuine.
Check.
He had just removed a minor, but annoying, flaw from his record.
While it didn't affect his grand plans, having it brought up later would be troublesome.
Getting a World Government official to publicly endorse it in front of a Vice Admiral? That saved a lot of future explanations.
"Very well," Raleigh said, snapping to attention, his "troubles" miraculously gone.
"Then I agree. As long as Vice Admiral Borsalino lifts my... house arrest... I'll go."
As if on cue, Borsalino's office chair swiveled around at just the right moment.
His face was a mask of stern disappointment.
"Ooooooh, Raleigh. How could you treat our distinguished guests like this? When the Excellencies have tasks for you, you should simply carry them out. What house arrest? What nonsense is this? It's canceled. Depart immediately for the Kingdom of Eruyorobu!"
"Yes, sir!" Raleigh stood up straight, saluted, and responded in a voice that rang with duty.
The two World Government officials were speechless.
They were utterly, completely convinced by this coordinated performance.
They were, in a word, fleeced.
They had come prepared to pay a small price, perhaps a few pleasantries.
They were leaving 100 million Belly poorer and having just taken on the political liability for a Marine's unsanctioned beatdown.
Fortunately, none of it came from their personal accounts. It was all government money.
Once this messy business was settled, they would quickly apply for transfers.
Let the next poor official handle the debts and favors these two Marine brothers had just incurred.
"Since the two of you have agreed to our request, we'll... we'll take our leave now!" The two officials didn't dare stay a second longer.
Who knew what other "troubles" Raleigh might suddenly remember? They practically ran from the office.
Once the sound of their hurried footsteps faded down the hall, the previously formal, rigid Raleigh immediately slumped into a lazy sprawl on the couch.
Borsalino took a long, appreciative sip of his goji berry tea.
"Oooooh. Not bad, kid," he remarked. "This time, not only did someone cover our military expenses, but they're also cleaning up your personal messes. Very efficient."
Raleigh reached over, grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl on the table, and began to peel it.
"You should be secretly pleased," he mumbled, popping a segment into his mouth. "Fools this loaded and this desperate are rare nowadays. We should take advantage of every one we can. Most of these World Government officials are all cunning as monkeys."
Borsalino just smiled smugly and said nothing.
Meanwhile, Raleigh continued to lounge, but his mind was running at full speed, refining his plans.
Okay.
Bell-mère should be on the move by now. Momonga has the warrant. Doflamingo agreed, so he's on his way to "intercept" her...
He had been wondering what location would make the total destruction of a CP9 unit seem plausible.
And now, these idiots had just handed it to him on a silver platter.
The Eryoku Kingdom.
A massive miners' uprising is brewing.
"This is perfect," he thought, a cold smile touching his lips. "It would be a shame not to take advantage of it."
The narrative was writing itself.
Bell-mère, a hunted Marine, flees all the way to the Eryoku Kingdom in the North Blue.
The CP9 agents, closing in for the kill, get caught in the middle of a massive, violent miners' uprising.
The deaths of a few secret agents in that much chaos? It would seem perfectly justified.
Tragic, even.
He could just find a few uprising leaders to pin the blame on later.
With 150,000 people in revolt, the investigation would be a nightmare.
No one would ever find the truth.
---------
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