Chapter 40
A tense hush descended on the war room as the newest stack of updated bounties was delivered. Around the cracked table, what remained of Navy command in the wake of the Marineford calamity tried not to openly stare as Fleet Admiral Sakazuki accepted the ominous folio.
None needed to voice the obvious - this latest move promised unsettling complications in their ongoing struggles to restore order. Since the inception of organized piracy, bounties had always flowed one way, from the lawful toward the lawless. Until now.
With leonine grace, Sakazuki lowered himself into the sole intact chair, gloved fingers tracing the ornate crest adorning the folio's leather surface. Even expecting the worst, seeing that jolly roger where the Marines' proud seagull should have been provoked muted outrage.
"Well, best we know the enemy's disposition sooner than later." Sakazuki kept his tone even through sheer discipline. "Let us see what mockeries the witch has wrought this time..."
He unclasped the folio, spreading its contents across the battered table. Around him, what little composure remained among the brass evaporated in choking curses or slack-jawed dismay.
There, stamped in bold font beneath the sneering pirate mark, hung the Fleet Admiral's own stern visage, unchanged save for the staggering sum now scrawled beneath as reward for his demise or capture.
Fleet Admiral Sakazuki "Akainu"
Bounty: 2.5 billion Berries
Admiral Kizaru "Borsalino"
Bounty:1.75 billion Berries
Admiral Ryokugyu "Green Bull"
- Bounty: 1.5 billion Berries
Admiral Fujitora "Issho"
- Bounty: 1.35 billion Berries
"She's lost her damned mind this time!" Rice Admiral Ichiro slammed a fist down hard enough to rattle broken masonry from the cracked ceiling. "We should mobilize our entire damned force to wipe out that upstart before this spreads further!"
"And accomplish what?" Rear Admiral Lewin's bitter chuckle held no mirth as she studied her own newly minted bounty poster dispassionately. "Hand Big Mom another victory by overextending our battered forces into a trap?"
Lewin's scarred features creased into a scowl. "Face facts, Ichiro. Right now we can scarcely defend our remaining ports, let alone mount offenses. It'll be months just restoring dock facilities after the mess at Headquarters."
Sakazuki remained silent as bickering erupted around him, still scanning the damning documents with unreadable ember eyes. Pages upon pages...not just their highest leaders marked, but nearly every officer above Commodore rank now had a bounty assigned. A thorough and calculated move to spread fear and mistrust through the entire upper echelon in one decisive blow.
Finally, Sakazuki stirred, the barest narrowing of his eyes the sole outward telling of his umbrage.
"Mind the room, all of you." His guttural tone cut through the squabbling like cannonfire. "I'll not have any Marine, least of all those privileged to wear the mantle of rank, succumb to fear's weakness over crude pirate pageantry."
His withering glare swept the tense assemblage. "Are we soldiers of lawful justice, or mewling whelps to be cowed by paper and ink?"
One by one, their gazes dropped from his scathing appraisal. After a pointed silence, Sakazuki continued, guarded disgust creeping into his normally stony baritone.
"What matters here is not these gaudy figures, but their underlying purpose. To sow dissent and mistrust where once loyalty stood unquestioned. To force reactions born of fear, not wisdom." His eyes smoldered with banked fury, fixed upon each officer intently. "I trust no loyal Marine in this room will allow that scheme to bear rotten fruit."
The familiar steel tone of command galvanized their deflated morale. Backs straightened, jaws firmed, and discipline stiffened sinews once more. Their highest calling had no room for dread or doubt when justice required defending.
"We must meet this maneuver on our terms, not the enemy's," Sakazuki rumbled. "No overreactions. Carry on your duties, but remain vigilant against opportunism from either brother officers or outsiders."
One gloved hand swept the folio into an unceremonious heap. "As of this moment, these paltry bounties cease to hold meaning or matter. I expect every Marine sworn to our sacred burden to follow that decree without question."
No further dissent stirred in the suddenly solemn room. Their course was ordained by codes far more meaningful than outlandish numbers conjured by criminals. With their mission thus renewed, purpose banished discomfort.
"Now return to your units," Sakazuki ordered firmly. "Whether through bolstered patrols or relief efforts, we must reestablish order and trust in the people above all else. Let our discipline guide us through trying times."
They rose and saluted sharply, dignity and professionalism once more cloaking their battered ranks. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki nodded, scarlet light glinting along the magma coating his rigid form.
Come threats from without or anxieties within, the Navy stood ready to meet their harsh trials with courage unwavering. Their justice would answer lawlessness through righteous action, not bluster and bounties.
Such petty goads could not distract true protectors from their essential work. The seas cried out for renewal of strength and hope alike.
And so the Marines marched forward.
XXX
"That crazy old bat's finally cracked for good this time!" Captain Jonas slammed back another mug of grog, features twisting in disbelief. "Putting bounties on Marines - what's next, robbing kings?"
The dingy tavern erupted into another cacophony of incredulous laughter. Every pirate, cutthroat, and scoundrel crammed within knew this promised unforeseen opportunities now that the rule-makers had prices on their heads too.
"She's got some real stones, I'll give the witch that!" Another grizzled captain chuckled. "Making those sanctimonious Navy blowhards sweat a little suits me just fine!"
At a shadowed corner table, a hulking newcomer accepted fresh tankards from the barmaids with a brooding glower beneath his hood. "Heh. As if those farcical figures mean anything."
First Mate Sabine arched a brow as she studied her imposing companion. "Oh? Your tone suggests otherwise, my mysterious friend."
A harsh chuckle answered her probing. "I merely speak from experience regarding the true danger those 'esteemed' Marines still pose, farce or not." Powerful hands tightened around cheap tankards. "Men like Akainu are beasts hiding behind cloaks of civility. Never forget that."
Intrigued, Sabine leaned closer, fair features sharply defined in fluctuating firelight. "You speak as one well acquainted with our boastful friends in white. A defector, perhaps?" When no response came, she waved the matter aside. "No concern of mine. However, insights on certain...figures now in question could prove useful for our voyage ahead."
Her smile turned conspiratorial and cold. "After all, forewarned is forearmed when opportunity arises, as I'm sure you'll agree."
Slowly, the hooded man matched her mercenary grin with one of his own - sinister promise incarnate. "Ay, lass. Wise minds think alike."
They touched tankards in silent accord. The seas roiled with upheaval in this new age, but where others perceived only looming threats, enterprising souls saw doors flung wide to endless bounties for the bold to reap. And if bounties were now a two-way path, well...
All the sweeter the rewards to be had by those clever and daring enough to seize this chaos by its throat without hesitation.
XXX
"Eyes up, lads, we've got trouble portside!"
Captain Eliam cursed as he scanned the horizon through his spyglass. That accursed jolly roger left no question who approached from the wisps of fog: Big Mom's forces, no doubt coming to collect their newly issued bounties.
"Battle stations! Man the cannons!" He roared, even as his gut clenched at the futility. Their tiny caravel stood no chance against a warship of that size. But he'd be damned before surrendering without a fight.
To starboard, the gleaming frigate Raven intercepted their course with predatory intent, flanked by two attack sloops for additional firepower. Eliam's jaw tightened as oars speared the waves, outpacing his crew's frantic preparations. These weren't common pirates, but seasoned marines-turned-mercenaries. Dangerous opportunists.
"Hold fast, lads!" Eliam drew his blade as the warship's bow cannon rotated towards them. He prayed its merciless captain would at least grant them honorable deaths, not slaughter like cattle at sea. "Remember your oaths! We stand for Justice!"
His rallying cry was answered by solemn nods, grim but unbowed. They had known the risks, same as Eliam, when refusing to abandon their duties after the Marines publicly disavowed them. What was a uniform without the sacred codes it represented?
"Commander Eliam!" The deep, mocking hail cut through the fog, raw authority in each syllable. "We come under the banner of Big Mom bearing glad tidings and grave choice! Refuse pointless sacrifice and hear her generous offer!"
Eliam bristled. "Whatever your terms, we remain loyal Marines! Lawless extortion holds no sway here!" He brandished his sword in bold defiance. "Now send us to our fates with dignity, traitor!"
A tall, armored figure emerged on the rival deck, visage obscured by an ornate helm. But no disguise could mask the palpable aura of power that sent primal instincts skittering. This was a predator beyond their weight class.
"Pity. But your courage warrants respect." A fencer's rapier slid free with practiced grace. "Very well. Though your insurrection ends this day, I grant you all clean deaths befitting warriors of honor."
With terrible finality, the blade angled downward in salute, mirrored by the bow cannon's inevitable alignment. The end had come, but they would face it proudly, untarnished to the last.
Squaring his shoulders, Eliam lifted his own sword, hoping his crew found solace in knowing their defiance protected innocents a while longer. "For justice's light eternal!" He bellowed. "Now and forev-"
The double crack of pistols made his cry end on a choked gurgle. Sagging to his knees, he stared down bewildered at the twin blossoms of crimson staining his chest. Behind the smoking barrels, Captain Lina regarded him pitilessly.
"Justice? Try greed." Her free hand lifted an ornate parchment. "Our lofty new patron just tripled the bounty on your troublesome hide. Nothing personal...only good business."
Around Eliam, his proud crewmen were likewise executed with brutal efficiency before they could even grasp betrayal. As darkness claimed his vision, the last sight was his betrayer discarding her Marines jacket to reveal Big Mom's mark beneath.
A final bitter thought coursed through Eliam's fading mind. So in the end, their defiant stand hadn't saved anyone...only delivered more lost souls into the damnable web of piratical corruption spreading inexorably across the unprotected seas.
The grand game of bounties and empires marched on, heedless of those crushed under its callous tides. Wherever Justice still sheltered, it seemed fated to dwindle beneath that remorseless juggernaut's advance...
XXX
"...which brings us to the imminent issue of how exactly we are to attend this Reverie without unintentionally provoking further conflict." Chancellor Rowan leaned back with a weary sigh, polished spectacles glinting in lamplight. "Suggestions, Your Majesty?"
Queen Anessa studied the latest intelligence and threat assessments with pursed lips. "Has there been any diplomatic progress clarifying Big Mom's intentions? Surely not all in her court can condone escalating tensions this brazenly."
Foreign Minister Peyton shook her head gravely, lines of age and exhaustion settling deeply. "My channels are silent, Your Majesty. I fear none will openly oppose the Sorceress while she holds the advantage." She hesitated. "Rumors suggest this may even be spousal influence from her new Admiral."
Rowan scoffed bitterly. "Wonderful. So the lunatic has managed to craft in that Rahmuro fellow an even more ruthless mastermind. Clearly, our old strategies require...adjustment."
No one dared address the unspoken truth: in this new paradigm, the once-inviolate power of being a World Government member nation was no longer the shield it had been. Big Mom's provocations revealed how fragile those structures now stood. And that made everything riskier...including their long-planned Reverie proposals.
With effort, Queen Anessa forced aside her own misgivings, donning the mask of unflappable confidence her people needed in this crisis. "Enough hand-wringing. We shall proceed on our intended course. But steps must be taken to prevent unnecessary clashes."
The room collectively exhaled, postures relaxing marginally at her assertiveness. Their queen could be counted upon to steer them through even dire straits.
That steady faith bolstered Anessa. Outwardly, she projected only shrewd command. Inwardly, however, worries gnawed cruelly. This newly volatile world allowed no missteps by untested monarchs. Would her youth and ideals prove virtues...or ruinous flaws?
Somewhere beyond their sheltered walls, deadly storm fronts were converging upon Mariejois, threatening calamity if navigated incautiously. And her people's fate hung balanced upon the cusp of that maelstrom's capricious currents...
Girding herself, Anessa shoved aside her misgivings. No path worth treading was ever smooth, but principle must lead true authority. Should their faith in justice founder against harsh tides, better to drown untarnished than endure by betraying higher ideals.
Her course was chartered by wisdom's compass. With Providence's favor, the coming journey would yet steer their kingdom clear of encroaching darkness.
She nodded dismissal to her advisors, ignoring their poorly-concealed unease as she turned towards her private balcony, eyes lifted above the shadowed city. There, somewhere past murky threat horizons, surely distant beacons of hope yet shone to guide the virtuous onward.
Fanciful perhaps, but visionaries clung to such phantoms by necessity in eras of upheaval. And leadership meant illuminating the way, not surrendering faith to cynics' grim predictions. Her duty was to their peoples' spiritual resilience, always.
Anessa waited in patient vigil late into the lonely hours and prayed. Sincere ideals still roused more hearts than fear's seductive whispers in the end. For days would surely test such dreams against pragmatism's proofs.
Thus passed the queen's fitful night, between foreboding darkness and faith's slender moonlight.
XXX
From the crow's nest, Sabine studied the distant eruption of signal flares through a battered spyglass, frowning thoughtfully. Their chaotic purpose eluded interpretation, but the source was unmistakable. Three former Navy corvettes now flew Big Mom's jolly roger proudly.
"Rouse our mysterious benefactor, Mr. Turner." She extended the glass towards the waiting first mate without turning. "It seems opportunities arise faster than expected. Our 'friends' have adopted bold new tactics."
Accepting the spyglass grimly, Turner studied the flares' pattern, equally confounded. "Aye, Captain. And we'd best strategize promptly. No sense sailing blindly into this new gambit."
He departed swiftly, leaving Sabine to ponder this latest puzzle. Since departing their tiny port, the increasing bounties on Navy personnel had fomented nonstop chaos and desertions. But where was the profit in such disorder?
"Troubled thoughts, Captain?"
She turned to greet her enigmatic ally with a thin smile. "Merely pondering our rivals' latest ploy, and how we might capitalize upon it." She gestured at the fading flares. "Ideas, my friend?"
But the hooded man only chuckled, a low and sinister sound. "Patience, Sabine. The way will make itself clear soon enough. For now, have faith in destiny's unfolding."
His absolute confidence brought Sabine up short. Just who was this mystery accomplice? But she merely inclined her head in acceptance. They had struck a mutually beneficial accord, if vague on details thus far. That sufficed...for now.
"Very well. I leave matters in your capable hands." With practiced nonchalance, she turned back to studying the empty horizon and its secrets. "My role shall remain adapting our course to the opportunities revealed."
A heavy hand clapped her shoulder in silent approval before footsteps receded again below decks. Alone again, Sabine sorted through her partner's cryptic words and her own swirling calculations.
Somewhere ahead, amidst the oceans' chaos, profit awaited...if properly leveraged between contending powers. And both ship and crew stood ready to seize whatever prizes destiny saw fit to surrender.
For now, their sails caught fair winds, borne onward through patience. But soon enough, the seas would unveil their moment to strike boldly, shedding pretense and seizing infamy between both fists. When that time dawned, they would rise to destiny's calling with relentless ambition.
Until then, the decks were trimmed and timbers primed for the roaring gale about to shake their world to its very foundations. And Sabine meant for her crew to ride that cresting storm straight into legend, rather than be sunk chasing idle scuttlebutt.
So she kept her gaze fixed steadfastly forward, and waited for the coming maelstrom's full majesty to break across their bow after long, fretful anticipation. Their own audacious gambit would be unveiled in due time. When the seas themselves trembled before mighty change's advent, empires rose and fell by preparation and cunning both.
Soon enough, the tides would begin their inexorable turn. And the name 'Raven' would fly from every lip that sailed the lawless waves!
XXX
The Big Mom Pirates were surprised by the Bounty System Sanjan recommended them to make: "The Queen's Bounty Directive." If played right, this system would send shockwaves throughout the New World.
And, so far, everything had gone according to plan.
Katakuri explained, "I thought you were insane by making us be like the Revolutionary Army. Oppose the World Government and all that."
"I'm not, "noted Sanjul. "All I did was create an aura of legitimacy for the Big Mom Pirates. The World Government was coming after us before I joined and before we blew up Marineford with the Insa-Insa Fruit. This system is retaliation for our new, higher bounties."
Then he walked around them gesturing, "Think of it as how states and religions work. Heresies are what a mainstream religion dislikes about its offshoot branches. But all mainstream religions are heresies that became established over time. If a heresy gains enough power it can eventually displace the orthodox faith, turning into the legal religion and turning the old orthodoxy into a heresy. "
Tapping the butt of his axe to the floor, Sanjul continued, "That's the same with all statewide actors as well. This bounty system makes it similar for us. Bounties are generally used as a stopgap administration method because the Marines are too weak to enforce their own laws and require third party individuals to do their dirty work. We're the opposite. We're prominent enough that we can issue bounties and start paying third parties to hunt our enemies. The Yonko crew is already a force to be reckoned with; this shows there's an expansion in the Big Mom Pirates as a whole, not just the crew"
The Grand Admiral's words hung in the air, heavy with implications. The gathered members of the Big Mom Pirates shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between Sanjul and each other. Katakuri, his usually stoic face betraying a hint of unease, was the first to break the silence.
"You're talking about legitimizing piracy," he said, his voice low. "Making us... what? A government?"
Sanjul nodded, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Exactly. What's the difference between us and the World Government, really? Size? Age? The flag we fly?"
Smoothie, her long legs crossed as she leaned against a nearby wall, chimed in. "But we're pirates. We don't follow rules. We make our own."
"And that's precisely what we're doing," Sanjul countered. "We're making our own rules, our own system. The World Government calls us criminals, but who decided that? They did. Now we're deciding differently."
Perospero, always quick to see the potential for profit, stroked his candy-cane staff thoughtfully. "So we're not just expanding our territory, we're expanding our... legitimacy? Perorin~"
"Exactly," Sanjul nodded. "Think about it. What makes the Marines' bounties any more valid than ours? Just because they've been doing it longer? Because more people recognize their authority?"
The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Big Mom herself, seated at the head of the table, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "You're saying we can become... a government?"
Sanjul spread his hands. "We already are, in many ways. We control territory, we have subjects, we enforce our will. The bounty system is just another step. It's a way of extending our reach, of making our power felt beyond our immediate sphere of influence."
Cracker, always more interested in action than philosophy, leaned forward. "But how does this actually help us? We're strong enough to crush our enemies already."
"It's not just about strength," Sanjul explained patiently. "It's about perception. About legitimacy. When we put a bounty on a Marine's head, we're not just saying we want them dead. We're saying we have the right to judge them, to decide their fate. We're challenging the World Government's monopoly on justice."
Katakuri's eyes narrowed. "And you think people will accept that? Just because we say so?"
Sanjul shook his head. "Not immediately, no. But over time? As our bounties are collected, as our system proves effective? People will start to see us differently. Not as just another pirate crew, but as a real alternative to the World Government."
Oven, his body radiating heat as he processed this new information, spoke up. "But we're still pirates. We still raid, we still plunder."
"So does the World Government," Sanjul countered. "They just call it taxation, or eminent domain, or 'peacekeeping'. It's all about the words you use, the justifications you give."
Big Mom, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly laughed. It was a booming sound that shook the room. "Mama mama! I like it! We'll be pirates and rulers both!"
Sanjul bowed slightly. "Exactly, Your Majesty. We're not changing who we are. We're just... expanding our definition of what that means."
Daifuku, his genie hovering nervously behind him, frowned. "But won't this make the Marines come after us even harder?"
"They're already coming after us with everything they have," Sanjul pointed out. "This isn't about avoiding conflict. It's about changing the terms of that conflict. Making it a war between equals, not a hunt for criminals."
Mont-d'Or, always the strategist, was already thinking ahead. "We'll need to be careful about who we target. Too low-ranking, and it won't make an impact. Too high, and it might provoke a response we're not ready for."
Sanjul nodded approvingly. "Exactly. We start with goals for mid-level targets. Commodores, Rear Admirals. People important enough to matter, but not so crucial that their loss would cripple the Marines."
Amande, her sword resting across her lap, spoke up for the first time. "And what of the other Yonko? How will they react to this... evolution?"
Sanjul's smile widened. "That's the beauty of it. They'll have to react. If we start acting like a government, they'll have to decide how to deal with us. Do they treat us as rivals? As potential allies? It forces them to acknowledge our new status, one way or another."
The room buzzed with conversation as the implications sank in. Pudding, her third eye gleaming, leaned forward. "But what about our own people? Our territories? How do we explain this to them?"
"We don't explain," Sanjul said firmly. "We demonstrate. We show them the benefits of our new system. More stability, more prosperity. We're not just taking anymore. We're building."
Compote, always practical, raised a hand. "This will require a significant investment. Not just in money, but in organization. We'll need a way to track bounties, to verify claims, to distribute rewards."
Sanjul nodded. "Absolutely. It's a major undertaking. But think of the payoff. We're not just expanding our territory. We're expanding our very concept of what it means to be the Big Mom Pirates."
As the discussion continued, the mood in the room shifted. The initial skepticism gave way to a mix of excitement and apprehension. They were standing on the brink of something new, something that could reshape the very nature of piracy in the New World.
Big Mom, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of greed and ambition, raised her voice. "Enough talk! We do this. Sanjul, you'll oversee the implementation. The rest of you, spread the word. From this day forward, the Big Mom Pirates are more than just pirates. We're a power to be reckoned with, in every sense of the word!"
As the meeting broke up, the various members of the crew dispersed, their minds racing with the possibilities and challenges ahead. Katakuri lingered behind, approaching Sanjul with a measured step.
"This is a dangerous game you're playing," he said quietly. "If it works, it could change everything. If it fails..."
Sanjul met his gaze steadily. "If it fails, we're no worse off than we were before. But if it works? We rewrite the rules of the game entirely."
Katakuri nodded slowly, a hint of respect in his eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing, Grand Admiral. For all our sakes."
As Katakuri left, Sanjul turned to look out the window, his eyes scanning the vast territories under Big Mom's control. The world was changing, and the Big Mom Pirates were going to be at the forefront of that change—whether the rest of the world was ready or not.
XXX
The next morning, Sanjul called a meeting with his closest advisors. They gathered in a small, secluded room, away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the crew.
"Alright, people," Sanjul began, his voice low and serious. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us. Big Mom has given us the green light to start implementing our new system, but we need to be smart about this. We're going to start small, focusing on a few key areas."
He unrolled a map of the New World, pointing to several islands. "These are our initial targets. They're all under Marine control, but we have intel suggesting the local officials are corrupt. We're going to approach them quietly, offer them a deal they can't refuse."
One of his advisors, a former Marine intelligence officer named Hiba, spoke up. "What kind of deal are we talking about, boss?"
Sanjul's grin was predatory. "Protection, for starters. We'll offer to turn a blind eye to their... extracurricular activities, in exchange for their cooperation. They'll recognize our bounties, pass along information, and help us establish a foothold in their territories."
Another advisor, a burly fishman named Junebug, frowned. "And if they refuse?"
"Then we make an example of them," Sanjul replied, his voice hard. "We expose their corruption to the World Government, watch them scramble to save their own skins. It'll send a message to the others: cooperate or face the consequences."
The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Finally, a third advisor, a former Revolutionary named Karate, spoke up. "This is risky, Sanjul. If the World Government catches wind of what we're doing..."
Sanjul nodded. "I know. That's why we're starting small. We need to build our network slowly, carefully. Each success will give us more leverage, more resources to work with. It's a long game, but if we play it right, we'll come out on top."
The meeting continued for hours as they hashed out the details of their plan. By the time they adjourned, the sun was setting over Totto Land.
As Sanjul stood on a balcony, watching the colors paint the sky, he felt a presence behind him. He turned to find Katakuri standing there, his usual stoic expression in place.
"How did the meeting go?" the Sweet Commander asked.
Sanjul sighed. "As well as can be expected. We've got a plan in place, but there's still a lot of work to do. It's not going to be easy."
Katakuri nodded. "Nothing worth doing ever is. But I have to ask, Sanjul. Are you sure about this? Once we start down this path, there's no turning back."
Sanjul met Katakuri's gaze unflinchingly. "I'm sure. This is our chance to change everything, Katakuri. To build something that will last long after we're gone. It's worth the risk."
Katakuri studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. You have my support. But remember, if this goes wrong..."
"I know," Sanjul interrupted. "If it goes wrong, it's on my head. I accept that responsibility."
As Katakuri walked away, Sanjul turned back to the sunset. The sky was darkening now, the first stars beginning to appear. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his decisions settling on his shoulders.
This was it. The beginning of a new era for the Big Mom Pirates. Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever obstacles they faced, Sanjul was determined to see it through. The world was changing, and they were going to be at the forefront of that change.
As night fell over Totto Land, Sanjul Rahmuro, once a suicidal teenager from Port Zafar, now the Grand Admiral of one of the most powerful pirate crews in the world, allowed himself a small smile. The game was afoot, and he was ready to play.
XXX
In the days and weeks that followed, the impact of the Big Mom Pirates' new bounty system began to ripple across the New World. At first, it was met with disbelief and mockery. Marines laughed it off as a joke, a pathetic attempt by pirates to ape the legitimate authority of the World Government.
But then the first bounty was collected.
It was a relatively low-ranking Marine officer, a Lieutenant named Grisko, known for his brutality in suppressing pirate activity in the South Blue. His head was delivered to a Big Mom Pirate outpost, along with a claim for the posted reward. The news spread like wildfire.
Within the ranks of the Big Mom Pirates, reactions were mixed. Some, like Perospero, saw it as a brilliant move, a way to extend their influence and strike fear into their enemies. Others, like Oven, were uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more like the very government they had always opposed.
"This isn't what we signed up for," Oven grumbled during a strategy meeting. "We're pirates, not... whatever this is making us."
Smoothie, ever the pragmatist, countered, "We signed up to follow Mama and make her the Pirate Queen. If this is the path to that goal, what does it matter what we call ourselves?"
The debate raged on, but as more bounties were collected and the system began to take shape, even the skeptics had to admit its effectiveness. The Marines found themselves on the defensive, forced to divert resources to protect their own rather than solely focus on hunting pirates.
Sanjul's prediction about the other Yonko proved accurate as well. Kaido, initially dismissive of the idea, soon found himself considering a similar system for his own crew. Shanks, always the wild card, sent a message of grudging respect for the boldness of the move. Blackbeard, true to form, saw it as an opportunity, beginning to play both sides by sometimes claiming Big Mom's bounties while still maintaining his own pirate identity.
But it was the reaction of the common people that truly began to shift the balance. In territories where the World Government's reach was weak, people began to see the Big Mom Pirates not just as fearsome marauders, but as a potential source of justice and stability.
A fisherman named Jorgo, whose village had long been neglected by the Marines, spoke to a gathered crowd in the marketplace. "For years, we've suffered under the raids of lesser pirates, and the World Government did nothing. Now, we post a Big Mom bounty, and within a week, those same pirates are either dead or have fled. Say what you will about them, but at least the Big Mom Pirates get results!"
This sentiment began to spread, slowly but steadily. In some areas, people began to actively seek out Big Mom's protection, seeing her as a lesser evil compared to the neglect of the World Government or the depredations of unaffiliated pirates.
Within the crew, the initial discomfort began to give way to a sense of pride and purpose. They were no longer just feared; they were becoming respected, even admired in some quarters. It was a heady feeling, one that began to reshape their own self-image.
Katakuri, always the most perceptive of Big Mom's children, noticed the change in his siblings.
"And what happens when we become what we've always fought against?" Katakuri asked, his voice low.
Sanjul's eyes gleamed. "We become something new. Something that combines the freedom of piracy with the stability of governance. We're not becoming the World Government. We're becoming its replacement."
As the system continued to evolve, new challenges arose. The logistics of managing a widespread bounty network proved daunting. Mont-d'Or found himself overwhelmed, trying to keep track of claims and payments across vast distances.
"We need a better system," he complained to Sanjul. "I can't keep all this in my books alone."
Sanjul nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We need to decentralize. Set up regional offices, create a hierarchy of verification. It's time we started building a real bureaucracy."
The word 'bureaucracy' sent a shudder through some of the more free-spirited members of the crew, but as the benefits of organization became clear, resistance faded. They were becoming more efficient, more effective, and undeniably more powerful.
But with this newfound power and legitimacy came new responsibilities. Big Mom, used to ruling through fear and strength alone, found herself forced to consider the welfare of her 'subjects' in ways she never had before.
"Why should I care if the people in our territories are happy?" she demanded during one contentious meeting. "As long as they fear us, they'll obey!"
Sanjul, ever diplomatic, explained, "Happy subjects are productive subjects, Your Majesty. They provide more resources, offer less resistance, and are less likely to seek protection from our enemies. Fear is a powerful motivator, but contentment is a far more stable foundation for an empire."
It was a difficult concept for some to grasp, this idea of ruling through more than just brute force. But as the results began to show – increased productivity in their territories, more willing recruits to their cause, a steadily growing sphere of influence – even the most hardline members of the crew began to see the wisdom in Sanjul's approach.
XXX
The World Government, initially dismissive of the Big Mom Pirates' new strategy, began to take notice as its effects became more pronounced. Emergency meetings were called in Mariejois, as the Gorosei grappled with this new threat to their authority.
"They're not just pirates anymore," one of the elders growled. "They're becoming a rival state. If we don't crush this now, others will follow their example."
But crushing the Big Mom Pirates was easier said than done. Their new system had made them more resilient, more adaptable. Traditional military strategies proved less effective against an enemy that was increasingly woven into the fabric of society in the territories they controlled.
As the days turned into months, the landscape of the New World began to shift. The Big Mom Pirates were no longer just one of the Yonko crews; they were becoming a legitimate power, with all the trappings of a nation-state. They issued their own currency, established trade agreements, even began to send diplomatic envoys to neutral territories.
For the members of the crew, it was a time of profound change and self-reflection. Many found themselves taking on roles they never imagined – administrators, judges, even teachers in the schools they established in their territories.
Pudding, her skills at memory manipulation finding new application in intelligence gathering and counter-espionage, mused to her siblings, "Do you ever wonder if we're still pirates at all? Sometimes it feels like we're turning into the very thing we used to hate."
Katakuri, ever the voice of reason, replied, "We're becoming something new. Neither purely pirates nor a traditional government. At least not yet."
This sentiment echoed throughout the crew. They were in uncharted waters, becoming something unprecedented in the history of their world. It was exciting, terrifying, and profoundly transformative.
Sanjul, watching the fruits of his strategy ripen, allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. But he knew the real challenges were only beginning. They had changed the game, but the game was far from over. The World Government would not sit idle forever, and the other Yonko were already making moves to adapt to this new reality.
As he stood on the balcony of Whole Cake Chateau, looking out over the ever-expanding territories of the Big Mom Pirates, Sanjul's mind raced with the possibilities and dangers that lay ahead. They had started a revolution, not just in the world, but within themselves. The question now was: how far would it go, and what would they become in the end?
The saga of the Big Mom Pirates' transformation was far from over. It was, in many ways, just beginning. The New World watched and waited, knowing that whatever happened next would shape the fate of pirates, governments, and common people alike for generations to come.