Chapter 208

**Chapter 208: Slave Trade**

In the **Holy Land of Mary Geoise**, Carl didn't return to **Marine Headquarters** immediately.

Instead, he headed straight for his **family estate**, where **Saint Figarland Garling** awaited him.

Carl took a seat across from his uncle, who lounged on the sofa, **arms crossed, legs lazily draped**.

Carl **recounted** Roger's latest actions.

Garling raised an eyebrow.

"**Oh? Roger's headed for the 'End'?"**

Carl **sipped his tea**, nodding.

"**Yes. He's gathered all four Poneglyphs. He'll make his move any moment now.**"

To Carl's surprise, Garling didn't seem **worried**.

Instead, he chuckled.

"**Let him go. It might do him some good. Once he sees it, he'll give up.**"

Carl frowned slightly.

"**Uncle Garling, do you mean…?**"

"**Ha! The secrets at the End can only be unlocked by Joy Boy's heir.**"

Garling smirked.

"**And Roger clearly isn't one.**"

"**Because he isn't a Nika Fruit user, right?**"

"**Exactly. That's the bare minimum requirement. Even if Roger stirs up chaos, he can't threaten our core.**"

Garling leaned back.

"**Otherwise, would the Navy send only Garp to chase him down? Only a fool would think Garp could actually capture him.**"

Carl chuckled.

"**Uncle Garling, should we keep searching for the Nika Fruit?**"

"**Of course. No matter what, we have to try. Even if Joy Boy is destined to return, we'll make sure that day never comes.**"

A glint of malice shone in his eyes.

"**The Celestial Dragons alone shall reign over this world.**"

Carl swirled his tea thoughtfully.

Then, he asked—

"**But aren't there… too many Celestial Dragons?**"

Garling's **smile vanished.**

His gaze **hardened**, scrutinizing Carl's expression.

For a moment—**silence.**

Then, Garling **laughed.**

"**Perhaps so. What do you propose to do about it, my dear nephew?**"

A **knowing smile** passed between them.

Carl **shrugged.**

"**I think we need to remove a certain someone from that position.**"

Garling's **eyes narrowed.**

Carl continued—

"**After all, it should have been held by the Figarland family.**"

Garling **nodded slowly.**

"**Still… that figure was alive during the same era as our ancestors. Even if she wasn't as powerful back then… it's been 800 years. Who knows what her strength has become?**"

"**Don't rush, Carl.**"

Garling's tone **softened** slightly.

"**Your potential is the greatest in the Figarland family's history. I have no doubt you'll surpass her.**"

Carl **grinned.**

"**Haha! When the time comes, I'll need your support, Uncle!**"

"**Of course! You're my only nephew. Who else would I help?**"

Carl **leaned forward**, voice lowering—

"**One more thing, Uncle Garling.**"

"**Should I bring Shanks back?**"

At the mention of **Shanks**, Garling's expression **stiffened.**

For a moment, he **said nothing.**

Then—

"**Let's leave him be.**"

His voice was firm.

"**The Figarland heir can only be you, Carl. No need to have him complicate things.**"

Carl **blinked in surprise.**

"**Uncle, you're misunderstanding! That's not what I meant!**"

Garling **scowled** and abruptly stood.

"**Let's drop this matter. Besides, the boy isn't ready to return yet, anyway.**"

Without another word, Garling **vanished.**

Carl sighed, **amused.**

"**Uncle Garling… maybe you're the one who's not ready.**"

---

Beyond the **Holy Land of Mary Geoise**, nestled on the **Red Line**, lay a **thriving town**—

A place known as the **closest settlement** to the **world's power center**.

Yet, despite its proximity to the **seat of power**, it **teemed with illicit trades**.

**Gambling.**

**Vice.**

And most **prominently**—

**Slave trafficking.**

A town where **money** dictated morality.

And the **Celestial Dragons**, in their arrogance, sanctioned it—

For their own **entertainment.**

Along the streets, **slaves** were displayed **openly** in cages.

Any **wealthy buyer** could claim one **at a moment's notice.**

---

After spending some time at his **family estate**, Carl decided to take a **stroll**.

Though he was **close to Mary Geoise**, he dressed to **avoid attention**—

A **high-collared black coat** draped over his frame, paired with **dark sunglasses**.

A **birthday gift** from **Borsalino**—

Pure gold frames, a rare **extravagance** from the usually **frugal admiral.**

His steps were **unhurried** as he wandered the streets.

His gaze **drifted** over the **showcases** filled with captives.

Some slaves looked **vacant, lifeless.**

Others radiated **despair**—or clung to a **fading hope.**

Carl felt **nothing.**

He had **no urge to save them.**

Only those **worthy** of his interest would **earn his attention.**

---

Most of the captives were **pirates**, caught by **slavers**.

Too **insignificant** for **Impel Down**—but not too small to **profit from.**

Stronger captives?

They were already enjoying **"hospitality"** in **Impel Down.**

Male slaves, particularly the **grotesque** or **heavily muscled**, fetched the **highest prices.**

Those with **Devil Fruits**—mostly **low-tier Zoans**—

Were paraded like **exotic creatures** in a **human zoo.**

As for **female slaves**?

Their value depended on **one thing**—

**Beauty.**

In this, the **Celestial Dragons** were no different from **commoners.**

But to Carl—

None of them compared to **Lucia** or his other **companions.**

He turned to **leave**.

Then—

A **merchant's voice** rang out.

"**Look over here! Freshly arrived! A pair of rare beauties!**"

The man's voice **boomed** through the street.

"**Only two hundred million Belly!**"

"**And you get two for one!**"