**Chapter 140**
Betty, still cradled in her mother's arms, **stared at Carl** with wide eyes.
She murmured,
"Mom… do **gods** really exist in this world?"
Normally, her mother would have **smiled** and told her,
"Silly child, there are **no gods** in this world."
But now—
She **nodded unconsciously**.
Not just her—
The **civilians** on both sides of the street seemed to **realize something**.
The nobles **feared Carl**, but why?
It wasn't just **his identity**.
It was **his power**—a power that could **flatten a mountain** with a single **gesture**.
Wouldn't it take only a **thought** to destroy a **kingdom**?
"Is this the power of an Admiral…?" someone whispered.
"The Navy's **strongest force**?"
Before such a person, even the **bravest army** would seem like a joke.
---
Carl glanced down at Betty and **smiled**.
"I'm just a **passing Marine**."
He squinted slightly, then mused aloud,
"Navy…?"
"If you became a **Navy officer**, you wouldn't have to **fear** those **arrogant nobles**, would you?"
The Navy soldiers behind Carl **shifted uncomfortably**.
They felt **ashamed**.
Because the little girl had **no idea**—
The man in front of her was **already** a Navy Admiral.
And **they** couldn't even begin to compare.
Carl's voice was calm, but firm.
"No."
"Becoming a **Navy officer** is just an **opportunity**."
"Whether you can **grasp it**—that's up to **you**."
Betty nodded, deep in thought.
Carl turned, his **coat fluttering in the wind**, the word "**Justice**" emblazoned across his back.
Betty suddenly called out,
"Wait! You haven't told me **your name** yet!"
Carl didn't stop walking.
His voice drifted back.
"**Carl.**"
Betty **repeated the name** in her mind.
Then, suddenly, she **jumped** out of her mother's arms.
By then, Carl and his group had already **disappeared into the distance**.
But she **stood tall**, clenched her **little fists**, and declared,
"I want to be a **Navy officer like him**!"
Just as she finished speaking—
A **light slap** landed on her head.
"Please," her mother sighed. "**Calm down for now**. Do you even know **how much trouble** you caused today?"
Betty pouted, **aggrieved**.
"I **didn't mean to**!" she huffed. "**Hmph!** But I still want to be a **Marine**!"
Her mother chuckled, **softening**.
"Alright, alright. Mommy **won't stop you**…"
She poked Betty's **forehead lightly**.
"But remember—there are **no crybabies** in the Navy~"
Betty **sniffled**, then **rubbed her tears away** with a small fist.
She muttered,
"Fine… but Mom, don't hit me on the head again."
She looked up **seriously**.
"The Navy **definitely** doesn't want **idiots**!"
---
Meanwhile—
Carl and his group, **led by the nobles**, arrived at the **palace**.
The **king**, as expected, immediately presented the **Heavenly Tribute**.
Spandam personally **inspected it**, then had it sent **directly to the ship**.
But he **wasn't worried** about anyone **stealing it**.
After all—
Saint Carl had **flattened a mountain** right before their eyes.
Anyone **stupid enough** to have **greedy thoughts**?
They'd be **digging their own graves**.
Next, a **banquet** was held in Carl's honor.
The **nobles** were all smiles, **flattering him** at every turn.
The **ladies** cast **longing glances** his way.
The **king** droned on about how "difficult" it was to **save up the Heavenly Tribute**.
But Carl?
He **wasn't interested**.
He only occasionally **spoke and laughed** with **Lucia and Ginny**, who sat beside him.
Then—
A voice cut through the chatter.
"Your Majesty."
It was **Dragon**.
His **sharp eyes** locked onto the king.
"Does paying such a **high Heavenly Tribute**… have a significant impact on **you**?"
The king froze.
He hesitated for only a second before **forcing a smile**.
"No, of course not!"
"We are **honored** to pay the Heavenly Tribute!"
"Our **Goa Kingdom** is a **proud** member of the World Government!"
Dragon didn't look away.
"But," he said slowly, "on our way here… I noticed something."
"Your **people** don't seem very **wealthy**."
His gaze was **unrelenting**.
"What do you **think** about that, Your Majesty?"
The king's expression **twitched**.
He cursed inwardly.
What kind of **fool** asks something so **obvious**?!
Of course the **commoners** were poor!
If the **Heavenly Tribute** didn't come **from them**, then **who** would it come from?!
Him?!
Dragon let out a quiet **scoff**.
He was about to press further—
But then—
Carl **set down his chopsticks**.
"Enough, Rear Admiral Dragon."
His tone was **calm**.
"You've said enough for today."
Dragon **fell silent**.
He lowered his head, his fists clenching under the table.
The **king**, however, **relaxed immediately**.
Finally.
Finally, someone had **shut this man up**.
He had **never liked** Garp or his son.
And now?
Finally, someone had **put them in their place**.
Eager to **please Carl**, the king **stood up**, reaching for a bottle of wine—
Only to **freeze** under Lucia's cold glare.
Her message was **clear**.
Carl **didn't care** for him.
He had no right to **approach**.
The king **awkwardly smiled** and **sat back down**.
The wine bottle still in his hand.
His **seat**?
The **lowest** position at the round table.
As if he were nothing more than a **servant**.
---
After the banquet, Carl **chose not** to stay in the palace overnight.
By **afternoon**, he had already **returned to the ship**.
The **king and nobles** eagerly **escorted him to the port**.
Not out of **respect**—
But out of **relief**.
Carl wasn't someone they could **befriend**.
And more importantly—
They were **terrified** of him.
Watching his **ship sail away**, the king finally began to relax.
But then—
A **minister** rushed over, holding a **Den Den Mushi**.
"Your Majesty!"
His face was **pale**.
"There's news from the **World Government**!"
The king quickly grabbed the **receiver**.
The **nobles** leaned in, listening **intently**.
Then—
A **sinister voice** crackled through the Den Den Mushi.
It was **Spandam**.
"His Excellency, **Admiral Black Dragon**, says he's **very satisfied** with your Goa Kingdom…"
The king's chest **swelled with pride**.
But then—
Spandam's next words sent a **chill down his spine**.
"So," he continued, "he has decided to **exempt the common people of the Goa Kingdom from all taxes for the next three years**."
The king's **blood ran cold**.
"The **royal family** and **nobles** will bear the remaining costs."
"You all seem **quite wealthy**, so this shouldn't be a **problem**, right?"
Spandam's voice turned sharp.
"And don't even think about shifting the **burden** onto the **commoners**…"
"Or you'll **lose your throne.**"