Olivia calmly withdrew a document from her folder and slid it across the table—a detailed list of six computer tiers with their corresponding commission structures.
"Gentlemen, please review this," she said with the confidence of someone holding all the cards.
The list had been carefully edited to exclude manufacturing costs and retail prices, displaying only the commission amounts for each of the six grades of computers. The three Vice Admirals' eyes widened as they scanned the document, surprised by the variety of tiers available for such a novel product.
But Olivia's next statement was what truly shocked them to their core.
"These are the different grades of computers for which we offer the Marines commissions," she explained matter-of-factly. "Currently, we're mass-producing the Tier 2 model. After setting aside inventory for our direct sales channels, we can steadily supply the Marines with one thousand units per day."
She leaned forward slightly, her business acumen evident in every word. "Moreover, we've already begun construction on new production lines. Within a week, our output will double to 2,000 units daily. Simultaneously, we're making intensive preparations for production lines dedicated to Tiers 1, 3, and 4."
Olivia's voice took on a visionary quality, her eyes focused on a future only she could see. "In our projected timeline, the monthly output across all computer grades will exceed one million units. This will barely satisfy consumer demand worldwide."
One million units monthly?!
The three Vice Admirals from Marine Headquarters nearly choked on their tea, each swallowing hard as they processed these figures. What did selling one million units monthly mean? Even calculating with the lowest commission of 5,000 Berries per unit for Tier 1 computers...
That translated to 5 billion Berries in monthly commissions!
Sixty billion Berries annually!
Are they delusional? Or am I? Comil wondered silently. Could there really be so many people willing to spend money on these machines?
The trio expressed their doubts about such ambitious projections, but these numbers weren't pulled from thin air—they represented careful market analysis by Luffy and Olivia.
The population of this world was immense. According to what Marco had once mentioned, there were tens of millions of islands scattered across the globe. Some, like Alabasta, boasted populations in the tens of millions. Of course, smaller islands were more common, with some supporting only three towns or villages, while others remained completely uninhabited.
Even so, Luffy estimated the world population at approximately 2.3 billion. However, due to the oppressive policies of the World Government, the tyranny of various kingdoms, and the constant threat of pirate raids, the majority of these people couldn't afford—or were reluctant to purchase—even the cheapest computer models.
In such a market, producing one million computers monthly seemed reasonable to meet consumer demand from those who could afford them.
Returning to the present, the three Vice Admirals sat stunned, documents clutched in their trembling hands. Seizing the moment, Olivia smiled triumphantly and slid a draft contract across the table.
"Well? If you find these terms agreeable, simply sign the contract," she proposed smoothly. "To demonstrate my sincerity, I'll donate an additional 200 computers to Marine Headquarters for office use."
The latter offer was merely an afterthought—the Vice Admirals barely registered it. Their attention remained fixed on the contract before them.
Comil couldn't wait to unfold the document, studying its contents meticulously. The contract was refreshingly straightforward, outlining just three key provisions:
First, the Marines would assume responsibility for the safe transportation of goods, delivering them intact to designated locations. Any losses, damages, or thefts would require compensation at retail price...
Second, as partners, the Marines would provide necessary armed assistance should any Olive Company branches face attacks, robberies, or malicious damage.
Third, provided the Marines fulfilled these obligations, Olive Company promised that the Marines would remain their exclusive transportation partner unless the Marines unilaterally violated the contract or declined further cooperation.
The three renowned Vice Admirals, whose names struck fear into pirates across the seas, huddled together, reviewing these three brief requirements repeatedly until satisfied there were no hidden pitfalls.
While relieved, they remained astonished at the simplicity of Olive Company's demands.
The first requirement—compensation for damaged or lost goods—represented standard practice in the transportation industry. Even without explicit contractual obligation, if goods were compromised, the Marines couldn't ethically evade responsibility. Moreover, with the Marines' formidable strength, few would dare intercept their shipments, rendering this concern largely theoretical.
The second provision—requiring Marine protection—initially seemed presumptuous, as if treating the Marines as hired muscle. However, upon reflection, Olive Company operated as a legitimate business and significant taxpayer in Wano Country, which now fell under direct Marine jurisdiction.
Even disregarding their partnership, when law-abiding businesses and civilians faced danger, the Marines had a fundamental obligation to uphold justice, protect the innocent, and eliminate threats. Considering Olive Company's potential to become the Marines' financial savior, Fleet Admiral Sengoku would surely approve this modest request.
Luffy observed their reactions with carefully concealed amusement.