Sige’s face twisted into a grimace—partially feigned discomfort, partially KING’s natural ferocity. To Dragon, it resembled a predator baring fangs.

Have I overstepped? The Revolutionary leader cleared his throat. “Our apologies for the abrupt visit. We come bearing critical intelligence.”

He slid a dossier across the rough-hewn table. “The Goa Kingdom has petitioned the Marines to eradicate your faction. Their ‘purification’ coincides with a Celestial Dragon’s visit.”

Sige scanned the documents, memories of the原作’s Grey Terminal inferno resurfacing. “So they’ll burn the trash mountains… frame pirates… then bar them from the capital.”

Dragon’s teacup froze mid-sip. “Burn the Grey Terminal? How do you—?”

“The nobles partnered with the Bluesum Pirates,” Sige continued, voice flat. “Promised them nobility… which they’ll revoke post-inferno. Classic bait-and-switch.”

Ivankov’s mascara ran like ink. Kuma’s Bible pages fluttered.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

How? Dragon’s mind raced. We’ve monitored Goa for months. No trace of this!

“Your intel network…” The Revolutionary’s voice held newfound respect. “To uncover this…”

Sige waved dismissively. “Common sense. Nobles loathe sharing power.”

The lie flowed smoother than he expected. Inside, panic simmered. Marines? Celestial Dragons? When did my retirement plan become a warzone?!

——

Revolutionary Mind Palace

He anticipated their betrayal. Dragon dissected every word. Years embedded here… spies among nobles… pirates… perhaps even the royal guard.

“Your foresight humbles us,” he admitted. “We’d hoped to warn you of the Marines. Clearly, you require no aid.”

Wrong. Sige’s soul wept. I need ALL the aid.

“However…” Dragon leaned forward, tattoos rippling. “A Celestial Dragon’s presence changes stakes. Let us assist.”

Assist? The word triggered epiphany. Garp’s coming. Garp + Dragon = Cataclysmic father-son reunion.

Sige’s Emperor Engine sputtered.

——

Outside the Shack

Bandits clustered around Gilman as he deciphered muffled shouts.

“Boss is negotiating with Dragon!”

“About burning the Grey Terminal!”

“No—saving it! He’s making the nobles pay!”

The bald zealot wept openly. “Such compassion! To risk war for trash heap refugees!”