**Chapter 139**
Outlook III **trembled** like a leaf, his **arrogance drained**.
With just a slap, all his **self-importance crumbled**.
It seemed that **evil men** like him needed **even greater fear** to keep them in check.
Spandam ignored him and quickly turned to Carl, his **face eager**.
"Admiral Black Dragon," he said smoothly. "How do you think we should **handle** this guy?"
A **textbook sycophant**.
Spandam always understood **Carl's intentions** with just a glance—never overstepping, always **attuned** to Carl's wishes.
Outlook III was **no match for him.**
Carl was **pleased**.
Raising a hand, he **patted Spandam's shoulder**, giving him a **satisfied smile**.
Spandam nearly **shook with gratification**.
At that moment, there was **no dog more loyal than him**.
In the distance, the **middle-aged couple** looked on in stunned silence.
But the **purple-haired girl**, nestled in her mother's arms, simply **stared at Carl—curious**.
---
Just moments ago, she had been **playing hide-and-seek** with her friends.
She was the **seeker**.
By the time she finished counting, Carl and his group had **already entered the area**.
The other children had been **whisked away by their parents**, but she had been **blindfolded**—unaware.
Hearing **footsteps**, she had **run toward them**—only to find herself **standing directly in their path**.
And now?
She **understood** the gravity of her mistake.
She had **interrupted nobles**.
With the **king himself present**, she feared she might be **thrown into prison**.
But then…
She had heard **the slap**.
She had **watched** as the once **high-and-mighty noble** crumpled to the ground, his **face swollen, his authority shattered**.
The man who struck him?
**He now stood respectfully before Carl.**
Even the **king**, whom she had believed to be the **highest power in the world**, deferred to **him**.
Was there **anyone** stronger than the king?
The **little girl's awe** deepened.
Carl **noticed her gaze**.
He **walked toward her**.
The **nobles** hurried to make way, bowing as they stepped aside.
How **ironic**.
They looked **no different** from the **commoners** they so often despised.
Even the **guards** stiffened, standing at attention, avoiding **Carl's gaze**.
His **innate dominance**—the blood of the **Figarland family**—was on full display.
No matter how much he **restrained it**, the **pressure** he exuded was far too overwhelming for **ordinary men**.
The **girl's father** felt his **legs weaken**.
But Carl had **no ill intent**.
He **squatted down** in front of the girl, offering her a **gentle smile**.
"Did I **scare you** earlier?" he asked softly.
"Don't worry—it's all over now. Go back to your **parents**."
The girl **bit her lip**.
She looked **worried**—as if she had something **to say**.
Carl's **brows lifted**.
"What's wrong?" he asked, amused. "Afraid your **parents** will punish you when you get home?"
The girl **shook her head** quickly, her voice small.
"…I'm afraid that once you **leave**, that noble will **take revenge** on us…"
Her **mother's face paled**.
In an instant, she **clamped a hand over the girl's mouth**.
"**Don't talk nonsense!**" she hissed.
But she wasn't angry.
She was **terrified**.
Because, deep down, she **had the same fear**.
Carl was **untouchable**.
The **nobles wouldn't dare** move against **him**.
But he wouldn't **stay forever**.
And once he was **gone**…
Who would stop them?
Who would **protect them**?
Carl's **expression shifted**—not with anger, but **interest**.
He gently **removed the mother's hand** and turned back to the girl.
"How old are you?"
The girl **straightened up**.
"**Eight!**" she answered, obediently.
Carl **chuckled**.
She was **young**—but remarkably **thoughtful**.
He **ruffled her hair**, smiling.
"What's your name?"
The girl hesitated for only a second before answering.
"**Belo Betty!**"
Carl's **smile widened.**
He glanced toward **Dragon**, who stood quietly in the crowd.
So this was **her**.
In the original timeline, **Belo Betty** would become the **Eastern Army Commander** of the **Revolutionary Army** under Dragon's leadership.
Her **Pump-Pump Fruit** would make her an **irreplaceable force**, capable of turning ordinary people into **powerful warriors**.
She had not **eaten the fruit yet**.
But if left **alone**—it would **find its way to her**.
And now?
Now that he had **encountered** such a promising future powerhouse…
Carl had **no intention** of letting her **slip away**.
A **faint smirk** tugged at his lips.
To the **young girl**, it seemed **kind**.
**Reassuring**.
But in reality, Carl's mind was **already at work**.
---
Slowly, Carl **stood up**, turning his back to the **assembled nobles and ministers**.
His voice was **calm**.
"From now on," he said **softly**,
"No one is to **interfere** with **Betty's family**… or else…"
He raised a hand.
A single word left his lips.
"**Die.**"
Then—
A **blinding silver streak** shot from his fingertips.
In the distance—
A **mountain exploded**.
Flattened **in an instant**.
The **Kingdom of Goa** had never **seen such power**.
The nobles and commoners **collapsed to their knees**, trembling.
Even **Spandam** wiped sweat from his brow.
He had **always known** Carl was strong.
But this?
This was **beyond imagination**.
Back on the ship, he had seen Carl **repel Dragon's attack** with a mere **flash of red light**.
But now—
Seeing an entire **mountain crumble to dust**?
It was an entirely **different feeling**.
Carl, meanwhile, simply **slipped his hands into his pockets**.
His expression **bored**.
"Spandam," he called.
Spandam **immediately** stepped forward.
His **voice rang out**, filled with **malicious authority**.
"**Admiral Black Dragon's words**," he declared,
"**Are the will of the World Government.**"
"**Do you hear me?**"
Outlook III's face was **ashen**.
He threw himself to the ground—
**Kowtowing frantically.**
"**We hear! We hear!**" he shouted desperately.