Chapter 309: Dalton's Choice
"Do you have something to report?"
Crunch.
Wapol asked the question while sprawled lazily in his chair, chewing on another piece of expensive metal.
Much of what he was eating had been purchased with the money Axel had recently paid for the kingdom's doctors. Wapol seemed quite pleased with the arrangement.
Standing before him was Dalton, the former captain of the royal guard under Wapol's father.
"King Wapol, Marines have arrived on the island."
Dalton's expression was serious.
"They're requesting our cooperation in locating and arresting Axel, the young man who arrived here recently."
Wapol continued chewing.
"Oh, that?"
Dalton waited.
"I'm the one who had someone contact the Marines."
Dalton's eyes widened.
"Why?"
The word escaped before he could stop himself.
Wapol stopped chewing.
His expression darkened.
"Are you questioning me?"
Dalton immediately realized his mistake.
"I am the King."
Wapol pointed at him with the half-eaten chunk of metal in his hand.
"You're nothing more than a guard."
"Do I need your approval for every decision I make?"
Dalton lowered his head.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. I spoke out of turn."
He paused, then continued carefully.
"But Axel is a criminal with a bounty of four hundred million Berries."
"If the Marines attempt to capture him here and a battle breaks out, I don't know what kind of damage Drum Island might suffer."
Wapol looked completely unconcerned.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Dalton looked up.
"The Marines already said they would send enough forces to deal with him."
Wapol stuffed another piece of metal into his mouth.
"And if they capture him, they'll pay a reward equal to his bounty."
His eyes lit up slightly.
"Four hundred million Berries."
Dalton's expression tightened.
"But if they fight here, ordinary civilians could be caught in the destruction."
His voice became more forceful.
"People could die."
Wapol continued chewing.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Then he frowned as though Dalton had brought up something utterly meaningless.
"The lives of civilians?"
He scoffed.
"What use are those?"
"Can I eat them?"
Dalton stared at him.
"They're useless."
Wapol waved dismissively.
"Enough. Get out."
"You're ruining my meal."
For a moment, Dalton said nothing.
He had known Wapol was selfish.
He had known the King was arrogant, cruel, and indifferent to the suffering caused by his policies.
But hearing him dismiss the lives of his own people so casually was different.
There was no performance in his voice.
No exaggeration.
Wapol truly did not care.
Dalton forced himself to continue.
"I understand."
He lowered his head once more.
"What should I do regarding the Marines?"
Wapol barely looked at him.
"Handle it however you want."
"Cooperate enough to keep them satisfied."
He waved his hand.
"Now leave."
Dalton turned and walked out of the throne room.
But his thoughts were anything but calm.
A king who placed no value on the lives of his own people...
Was such a king truly worth protecting?
Dalton walked through the castle corridors in silence.
Then he stopped.
For several seconds, he stood without moving.
Finally, he made his choice.
Instead of heading toward the coast where the Marines were stationed, Dalton turned in the opposite direction.
Toward the medical facility.
...
Inside the treatment room, the atmosphere could not have been more different.
Axel lay on a clean white medical bed while twenty doctors surrounded him.
Excitement filled their faces.
"We did it!"
"It worked!"
"This is unbelievable. If a treatment like this can be properly documented, it might become a major breakthrough in medicine!"
"Don't celebrate too soon."
"Why not? We succeeded!"
"It's only one arm."
"But it's the first step!"
Their voices overlapped throughout the room.
For nearly a month, these doctors had devoted themselves to understanding a body that violated nearly everything they knew about medicine.
Now, for the first time, they had achieved a concrete result.
Axel slowly sat up.
He lifted his left arm.
Then he clenched his fist.
His fingers curled naturally.
Pressure formed against his palm.
And for the first time in almost three years, Axel could feel it.
The texture of his own skin.
The tension in his muscles.
The firmness of his grip.
A sensation so ordinary that most people would never think twice about it.
Yet to Axel, it felt strangely unfamiliar.
His expression remained restrained, but a trace of relief appeared in his red eyes.
One of the oldest doctors interrupted the celebration.
"Enough."
The room gradually quieted.
"His treatment is nowhere near finished."
The old doctor pointed toward Axel's arm.
"We only repaired a single limb."
"Even if the result is encouraging, that's not a reason to become complacent."
Another doctor immediately objected.
"But we succeeded in repairing the nerves."
"We reconnected pathways between his arm and brain that should have been impossible to restore!"
The older doctor snorted.
"That only worked because his brain is abnormal."
Axel glanced toward him.
The doctor continued without concern.
"If we attempted the same method on an ordinary person, it would fail."
"Then this isn't a complete medical technique."
"It's a treatment specifically suited to one patient."
Another physician shrugged.
"A successful treatment is still a successful treatment."
"If we continue studying this case, perhaps what we learn can eventually be adapted for others."
"Hmph."
The old doctor crossed his arms.
"Try this on an ordinary patient and you'd probably leave them permanently disabled before discovering anything useful."
He shook his head.
"We succeeded, yes."
"But calling this a universal treatment would be ridiculous."
Before the argument could continue, the door opened.
Dalton entered.
The doctors turned toward him.
"I need to speak with the patient."
That was enough.
Dalton rarely interfered with their work without good reason.
One by one, the doctors gathered their things and left the room.
Several bowed politely as they passed.
Soon, only Dalton and Axel remained.
Axel flexed his newly restored hand once more.
"What happened?"
His voice was as calm as usual.
But the small satisfaction in his expression was difficult to completely hide.
Dalton got straight to the point.
"The Marines have come to arrest you."
Axel barely reacted.
"Oh."
Dalton stared at him.
"That's all?"
"What else should I say?"
"You're not surprised?"
Axel lowered his arm.
"I told you before."
"I prefer assuming the worst."
"If you expect trouble from the beginning, you're less likely to be caught unprepared when it actually arrives."
Dalton remained silent.
Axel looked at him.
"But that isn't the only reason you came here."
Dalton's expression shifted.
"You want me to leave Drum Island."
A brief pause.
Then Dalton nodded.
"Yes."
"At this point, I don't know exactly how strong you are."
"But if the Marines are gathering enough force to arrest someone with a bounty of four hundred million, the battle won't be small."
Dalton's voice became heavier.
"If you fight here, the people living on this island will be caught in it."
"I want you to leave."
"Take the danger with you."
Axel looked at him for a moment.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're very blunt?"
Dalton said nothing.
From Axel's perspective, "blunt" was already a generous description.
Dalton had knowingly come to warn a wanted criminal that the Marines were hunting him.
Then, in the very next breath, he had asked that criminal to leave.
And his only reason was to protect people who would never know what he had done for them.
Naively foolish might have been more accurate.
Dalton finally spoke again.
"The Marines said they're sending sufficient combat power to capture you."
Axel slowly raised his left arm.
His fingers closed.
The sensation was still there.
Clear.
Real.
After three years, part of his body was finally beginning to feel like his own again.
"I refuse."
Dalton stared at him.
"What?"
"I'm not leaving."
"Why?"
The question escaped him immediately.
He genuinely did not understand.
The Marines were not some ordinary pirate crew.
Even Dalton, who had little experience with the truly powerful figures of the sea, knew how enormous the organization was.
A criminal with a bounty of four hundred million Berries might be terrifying.
But challenging the Marines directly was something else entirely.
Dalton had never warned Axel because he believed the youth could defeat them.
He had warned him because he wanted the coming battle taken somewhere else.
Axel looked at his restored arm.
"My treatment isn't finished."
Dalton went still.
"So I'm staying."
His confusion only deepened.
"Your treatment?"
Dalton frowned.
"You're willing to risk your life for that?"
Axel looked at him and smiled.
He understood Dalton's reaction.
Anyone would think the same way.
In the eyes of most people, there were very few individuals in the world who could even contemplate facing the Marines head-on.
Perhaps Whitebeard.
And even Whitebeard could not defeat the entire Marine force alone.
The Marines were not merely another power on the sea.
They were one of the forces that ruled it.
As Doflamingo had once put it, the true overlords of the sea were the Marines.
....
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