Chapter 79: If I Want, Not One of Them Lives

Inside the grand, resplendent palace hall.

Old Zeek, usually dressed like a vagabond, had uncharacteristically put on a pair of glasses. He sat with a rare seriousness on his face, intently reading the report in his hands.

"You actually look halfway respectable, old man."

At the sound of that voice, Old Zeek looked up.

A tall young man over three meters in height was lounging casually beside the desk, dressed in a dark crimson suit and a sweeping black coat. His long legs, well-proportioned frame, and chiseled face framed by black hair gave him a presence that transcended mere good looks.

He held a piece of palace fruit in hand, biting into it lazily.

Seeing Ozz dressed like this, a smile finally broke across Old Zeek's otherwise stern face.

"New clothes suit you well, brat."

"Gotta switch things up now and then."

Ozz picked up a paper from the desk it had scribbles about taxes, public security, and other governance issues.

"Hey, old man, you're supposed to be enjoying your time as king, not working yourself into an early grave.

Besides, no matter how lax your rule, it's still better than the last king's reign of exploitation. The people will thank you for it."

"Well… can't argue with that…"

Zeek rolled his sore shoulders and jumped down from the throne.

Truth be told, he wasn't much of a ruler. Most of his "approvals" were just scribbled phrases based on gut feeling.

Like the time a riot broke out among the commoners during the power transition his official response?

"Screw 'em!"

Or when more and more young people from the kingdom started setting sail to become pirates his decree?

"Ambitious! Just remind them to visit home sometimes!"

These whimsical replies always left the officials scratching their heads, but in the end, they still carried out his orders.

"Come on, let's take a stroll outside. I've always preferred a freer, more laid-back life anyway."

The old man and the young one now sat in the palace garden, at a table under the open sky.

"Hey, brat," Zeek leaned forward, both hands on the edge of the table, eyes fixed on Ozz who sat with his eyes closed, resting. "You can do it, right? That thing?"

"…What thing?" Ozz opened his eyes, not following.

"You know… that red-and-black lightning stuff. One zap and a whole group just drops…"

Zeek couldn't quite describe it, but the image was deeply etched in his memory those earth-shattering battles of his youth. He'd seen true monsters at war, and the strongest among them always wielded that kind of power. Just the aftermath was enough to blow him away as a bystander.

"Oh… that."

Ozz didn't mind indulging the old guy's curiosity. After all, this was the man whose lifelong dream was to become a great pirate like Whitebeard.

Now, he was living that dream vicariously through Ozz, of course he'd be curious about everything.

Ozz slowly extended his hand, clenching it into a fist.

A world-ending pressure began to emanate from him raw, overwhelming.

Zeek's pupils shrank in an instant, his body trembling involuntarily.

But he looked exhilarated.

"Yes! That's the feeling! That trembling deep in your bones!"

Then Ozz compressed the aura, tightening it into his fist crackling red-and-black lightning danced over his knuckles in a tight weave.

Even Zeek was struggling to breathe under the pressure, but still, he couldn't stop grinning as he watched Ozz radiate that almost sovereign presence.

"What tremendous power! Hey, Ozz…" Zeek's voice held a note of excitement. "Could you take him? Whitebeard, Edward Newgate?"

To Zeek, both men felt equally terrifying.

It was like comparing a one-thousand-ton boulder to a ten-thousand-ton one neither was something a human could lift. The difference was moot.

But his question actually made Ozz pause.

He stroked his chin, thinking.

"In terms of raw power, I'd still come up short. I've seen Whitebeard's monstrous strength firsthand his Devil Fruit, his Conqueror's Haki. He was almost on par with Captain Roger himself.

And I'm still young."

That answer left Zeek a little disappointed but also oddly reassured. It made sense, after all. Ozz was still in his prime. He'd get there.

But what Ozz said next lit him up again:

"But that's just numbers. If we fought freely, without limits out there on the open sea…

I'm confident.

Not a single member of the Whitebeard Pirates would walk away alive."

"Not even the fishmen."

Ozz said it lightly, almost lazily but to Zeek's ears, it landed like a thunderclap.

He didn't doubt it for a second.

This was the same kid who had stirred up the Navy Headquarters during his teenage years.

And now, knowing that even monsters like Whitebeard might not be able to harm Ozz… he felt more at ease than he had in years.

No more worrying every time a newspaper mentioned Ozz.

No more holding his breath.

In the months that followed, Ozz and Mihawk stayed on Dressmoss Island, living quietly and keeping Zeek company.

It was a well-earned period of rest.

During that time, Ozz also acquired a special contact courtesy of a newspaper-delivering seagull.

Brrr… brrr… brrr… click.

As the Den Den Mushi connected, its face morphed into the exaggerated features of a bird smiling broadly.

"An honor to finally speak with you, Black Gun Ozz. This is Morgans, from the World Economic News."

"Oh, I know exactly who you are," Ozz replied, sucking on a straw and sipping orange juice with lazy amusement.

"Been reading your nonsense about me in the papers for years now."

The Den Den Mushi gave a sheepish grin, a bead of sweat trailing down.

Ozz hadn't forgotten.

Half his infamy could be credited to this guy's sensational headlines.

Most of them were true, sure but no one had asked for it.

"Ah… hahaha… Well! Putting the past behind us, what brings a big name like you to me today?" Morgans hurried to change the subject.

He'd written so many made-up headlines over the years, he'd lost track. Getting called out by the actual subject was… awkward.

"Two things," Ozz said nonchalantly.

"First starting today, the Kingdom of Dressmoss in the New World is under my protection. I want that in the papers.

Anyone stupid enough to make a move be they pirates or allied nations better be ready to get wiped off the map."

"That's easy," Morgans grinned slyly. "Black Gun Ozz staking a claim in the New World? That's prime headline material!"

He could already see the front page forming in his mind:

SHOCKING! Legendary Pirate Launches New World Turf War!!!

A Man with a Four-Billion Bounty, What is He Planning?!

Kill All Who Enter?! New World's Rising Emperor Declares War!!!

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[ Preview for the next chapter: Let the Underworld Know: The King Has Arrived!

The underworld has always thrived in the shadows until now.

With a calm voice and a chilling smile, Ozz lays down his claim not just over the seas, but over the entire black market. Gambling rings, arms deals, propaganda machines they all belong to him now. And anyone who resists?

Well, even a skybound fortress won't save them.

As Morgans, the King of News, finds himself face-to-face with a new kind of monarch, one truth becomes terrifyingly clear: this isn't negotiation. This is conquest.

And it's only just begun.]

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