Chapter 134

Money.

To the World Government, it was nothing more than a light drizzle.

At the very least, every member nation under the World Government was required to pay tribute to the Celestial Dragons annually. While the amount of heavenly gold each country contributed wasn't absurdly high, it was still a significant sum. Which meant one thing—money was never in short supply.

So when Kairos Flint demanded compensation of 10 billion Beli, it was laughable to them. For a regime that had ruled the world for over 800 years, that sum was barely a drop in the bucket.

But money wasn't the issue.

The World Government didn't care about the cost. They could easily raise the funds by increasing the heavenly tribute, and they'd even have some left over.

No, what they truly cared about was face—the prestige and authority of the World Government.

Kairos Flint's demands included a public apology, to be held for an entire month. It wasn't just about saying "sorry." Even a single official apology would be tantamount to a global humiliation.

An apology would mean allowing their sacred image to be trampled into the dirt by Kairos Flint.

That was intolerable.

And yet—this was the reality they were facing.

Refusing the public apology meant facing the consequences.

And everyone already knew what Kairos Flint was capable of. His actions would inevitably drive member nations to question their allegiance to the World Government.

Should even a few of them secede, the dominoes would begin to fall.

The navy had already taken a significant hit in manpower. If the apology wasn't issued, and Kairos Flint struck again, they would be forced to divert what remained of their forces to deal with the rebellion and damage control.

Still, the issue remained unchanged: no apology, and Kairos Flint would continue to attack naval bases and member nations.

Every attack against the navy would further weaken the World Government's military reach. And the fear he would sow among the member countries would only push more of them to leave.

Once the first domino fell, the others would follow.

Even if they didn't surrender outright to Kairos Flint, at least one-third or even half of their member nations might break away.

If that chain reaction began, even sending the Knights of God or killing Kairos Flint wouldn't be enough to reverse the damage. Restoring order would be almost impossible.

And the most troubling part?

Kairos Flint was no ordinary threat.

His strength rivaled even that of Garp, the legendary Marine hero.

Sure, Garp had often acted defiantly, calling the Celestial Dragons "garbage" right to their faces. The Five Elders had heard such things before—but they tolerated Garp.

Why?

Because Garp was a core figure in the Navy. His personal relationships spanned most of the Marine upper echelon, and his raw strength made him more useful than expendable.

Punishing Garp for his son Dragon's revolutionary activities might've backfired, pushing him further toward rebellion.

If Garp had been forced to join his son, the damage to the World Government would have been catastrophic.

So they swallowed their pride—for the sake of stability.

The same logic now applied to Kairos Flint.

He wasn't a soldier in their ranks, but his strength and influence were undeniable.

And now he'd thrown the world into chaos with his demands.

Faced with this crisis, one of the Five Elders, Saint Nashoulang, broke the silence:

"We should just agree to his terms."

Everyone turned to him.

"The man's strength is simply too great. Even if he hasn't openly declared himself a pirate yet, the moment he does... a Fifth Emperor will rise in the New World."

That possibility sent a chill through the room.

"The Fifth Emperor..." murmured Saint Peter. "If it comes to that, the balance of power will be tipped yet again."

Saint Maz followed with a heavy sigh:

"Then let's accept his demands. It's better to cut our losses now. A public apology—yes, it's humiliating, but it's manageable."

Saint Wuchuli added:

"He wants his bounty lifted, to continue as a bounty hunter. That could work in our favor."

Saint Satan nodded in agreement:

"If he's content to work as a bounty hunter, there's no need to pursue him. As long as he doesn't oppose the World Government, we can tolerate him—for now."

One by one, the Five Elders came to a reluctant consensus.

There was no other viable option.

To minimize losses, they had to give in.

After finalizing the decision, they summoned their subordinates and issued the orders.

When those subordinates received the commands, their eyes widened, their bodies trembling. None of them could believe it.

The World Government had surrendered.

The God-Killer, Kairos Flint, had won.

The government of the world had bowed its head.

This had never happened before.

It was a historical moment.

Word of the decision spread quickly, causing a storm of disbelief and confusion among government officials and military personnel.

Everyone confirmed it.

It was real.

The World Government had apologized.

Even as shock consumed their ranks, the next steps were already underway. The World Government immediately reached out to Morgans, the president of the World Economic News Agency.

After all, it was obvious to everyone by now—Morgans had a direct connection with Kairos Flint. They were allies.

All the firsthand stories and exclusive reports published in the World Economic News were clearly fed directly by Flint's camp.

And now, it was time for that channel to broadcast something else—a public apology from the World Government.

Two days passed.

And then, on the third day—

The World Economic News hit the streets.

The front page bore the unthinkable.

A full, official statement from the World Government.

A formal public apology.

There were photographs to back it up—high-ranking officials standing solemnly, acknowledging their wrongdoing.

The world froze.

And then—

BOOM!

The news detonated across every sea and every island.

The World Government had bowed to Kairos Flint.

He had become the first man in history to force the rulers of the world to kneel.

The entire ocean roared with disbelief.

And a new era had just begun.