Sige’s spine straightened like a steel rod. A horrifying possibility struck him: What if Garp’s leading the Marine force?

THUD-THUD-THUD!

The Emperor Engine detonated, shaking dust from the shack’s rafters. Dragon’s crew instinctively reached for weapons.

“Is Garp commanding this operation?” Sige’s growl cut through the tremors.

Ivankov blinked. “Unlikely. Your… scale doesn’t warrant the Hero’s attention.”

Kuma’s monotone added, “Garp’s currently chasing Red-Hair’s crew off the East Blue coast. A fortunate delay.”

Thank you, Shanks! Sige’s soul wept with relief. Externally, he nodded. “Good. That old relic’s unnecessary.”

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The pressure vanished as suddenly as it came.

Ivankov’s sequined eyelashes fluttered. Wait… He flared up at Garp’s mention?

Pieces clicked.

The sudden expansion. The "Bandit King" title. All bait.

This madman wants to lure Garp into a trap!

His gaze flicked to Dragon, whose jaw muscles twitched imperceptibly. And our dear leader’s daddy issues just got complicated.

——

Revolutionary Telepathy (Silent Edition)

Ivankov: Sweating Glitter → Your dad’s the target!

Dragon: Tattoo Twitch → I know.

Kuma: Bible Page Rustle → Awkward.

——

Sige observed their micro-expressions, blissfully unaware. Why’s the room suddenly tense?

“We’ll assist your… preparations,” Dragon said through gritted teeth. “The Grey Terminal mustn’t burn.”

Assist? Sige’s mental alarms blared. More people = More problems!

“Unnecessary.” He rose, KING’s aura slamming the discussion shut. “This ends tonight.”

——

Outside

“Boss’s confronting the nobles!”

“Saving the Grey Terminal!”

“Fighting Garp to protect us!”

The bald zealot brandished a stolen Marine flag. “The Bandit King’s war begins!”