Build The Strongest Family in the Prirate World

"This is just a warning," Graves growled, standing tall amidst the rubble of the Byrnndi World Chamber of Commerce. His double-barreled shotgun rested on his shoulder, smoke still curling from the barrels. His voice was cold and firm as he walked away. "Next time, you won't see the sun tomorrow."

Behind him, the destruction was absolute. Sett had reduced President Rum's castle to rubble with a single, earth-shattering punch. The Figarland family's name was now whispered in dread across the region, their growing dominance undeniable. Their disciples, numbering in the thousands, sharpened their swords, preparing for what lay ahead.

The lesson was clear—wealth and status meant nothing in the face of true power. This sea was ruled by strength, not commerce. 

In the midst of it all, Jim Volt, battered and bruised, limped forward, his face contorted with rage as he shouted to the other Chamber of Commerce presidents. "Damn it! Notify the Marines! Tell them to issue bounties for those criminals! And get me Vice Admiral Galen! He has to answer for this!"

But amidst the panicked leaders, Seahorse Larry simply smirked, cutting through the clamor with a sneer. "Explain? You think the Marines will care about this? They have no authority in the internal affairs of kingdoms, and they sure as hell don't handle threats like these on land."

The other presidents, still reeling from the recent attack, fell silent. Larry's words stung with a harsh reality: while the Marines had a presence across the world, their hands were tied when it came to enforcing laws in the sovereign kingdoms.

Jim Volt, clutching his swollen cheek, tried to muster more defiance. "If the Marines can't handle it, then we'll have the kings arrest the Figarland family! We can't let this humiliation stand!"

"Arrest the Figarland family?" Larry's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Do you even hear yourself? The Figarland family isn't just some street gang—they're the mafia that controls the entire West Blue underground. You think a few kings are going to stand up to them?"

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Larry's words sunk in. "Even if you could convince the kings, do you think they'd risk open conflict with the Figarland family? Especially with Galen Vice Admiral being on good terms with them?"

The mention of Galen's name hung heavy in the air. Everyone knew of the powerful vice admiral's friendship with the Figarland family. No kingdom in the West Blue was foolish enough to openly challenge such an alliance.

"You're all dreaming if you think anyone's going to lift a finger for you over a bruised face," Larry spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "You were beaten and threatened, but that doesn't mean you have the power to take down the Figarland family."

He continued, "The Figarland family isn't just a gang—they've unified the entire West Blue underground world. They have over a hundred thousand disciples, not to mention heavy hitters like Sett, Graves, and Capone Bege. There's no one, not even the kings, who can touch them now."

Across the West Blue, Figarland's influence was undeniable. Their lottery shops, their Chamber of Commerce operations, and the sheer number of people who relied on them—Figarland had woven themselves into the very fabric of the region. 

Jim Volt's confidence wavered as he realized the full weight of what Larry was saying. The Figarland family wasn't just a threat to his business; they were an unstoppable force, a new power rising in the West Blue.

Graves and Sett had left their mark, but the message they delivered was far bigger: Figarland was here to stay, and only those with true strength could stand against them.

And in this sea, strength was the only thing that mattered.

Not every disciple in the Figarland family is eager to fight or kill. Most people in this pirate world are just regular folks trying to survive. Many of them wouldn't turn to piracy or crime if they had peaceful lives, and even fewer would willingly join a mafia if they had other options.

"President Larry," Jim Volt hissed, his swollen face barely hiding his anger, "do you even understand what you're saying? I invited you to join us in targeting the Figarland Chamber of Commerce. You refused, fine.

But now you're standing here talking like this?" He paused, squinting his eyes in an attempt to look menacing, though the effect was lost due to his puffed-up, battered face. "Are you trying to make yourself a target too? If we can't handle the Figarland family, what's stopping us from coming after your Seahorse Chamber of Commerce next?"

Despite the thinly veiled threat, Larry Kaiba didn't seem fazed. In fact, Jim Volt's swollen, pig-like face made him suppress a laugh. He couldn't help it—he burst out laughing.

"Hahaha!" Larry couldn't control his amusement. "Sorry, President Jim," he said, feigning an apology, still chuckling. "I just thought of something funny."

Larry's expression turned serious as he added, "I also forgot to mention—I joined the Figarland United Chamber of Commerce yesterday. From now on, the Seahorse Chamber of Commerce will be working closely with them to build a prosperous West Blue."

He took a step forward, his voice dropping low, "If you're still thinking of joining, I suggest you move quickly. West Blue is big, but not big enough for more than one chamber of commerce in some areas."

With that, Seahorse Larry walked away, leaving Jim Volt fuming. The Seahorse Chamber of Commerce had survived for centuries by knowing when to bet on the right side—and this time, Larry had gambled big by siding with Figarland.

As Larry exited, the other bruised and battered chamber presidents exchanged uneasy glances. One by one, they made hasty excuses to leave the banquet hall. Most of them had already decided to contact the Figarland United Chamber of Commerce, hoping to secure their survival by aligning themselves with the new power in West Blue.

Business is about profit, and they knew better than to fight a losing battle. If the Figarland family could overturn the entire playing field with brute force, joining them was the only logical choice.

Jim Volt watched them leave, feeling a cold dread settle in his chest. The alliance he had formed to oppose Figarland was unraveling right before his eyes. Most of the presidents, except for a few large chambers of commerce like Rum and Brando, were already figuring out how to switch sides.

For Jim Volt and the remaining holdouts, joining Figarland wasn't even an option. They had led the charge against Figarland, and switching sides now would make them the first targets for revenge.

"What now?" Jim muttered, sharing a glance with Rum and Brando. They knew that if they didn't act quickly, they'd be erased like pests.

"We won't give in that easily," Jim finally declared, steeling himself. Rum and Brando nodded in agreement. They had to strike back before it was too late.

Meanwhile, on the other side of West Blue, Duke sat comfortably, watching as the beaten chamber presidents showered him with flattery and false smiles. He could see the fear in their eyes, but that was the point. The anti-Figarland alliance had made one thing clear—Figarland's control of West Blue had to be absolute.

But Duke didn't see this as a simple conquest. He had bigger plans. West Blue's prosperity wouldn't come from brute force alone. Infrastructure, farming, trade—these were the building blocks of lasting power. The chamber of commerce presidents didn't know it yet, but by joining him, they weren't just surviving—they were becoming part of something far larger.

Duke's ambition was to unite West Blue under a single banner, not just through violence but through collaboration. Pooling resources, building common wealth—he was willing to let them buy shares in the Figarland United Chamber of Commerce. It wasn't just a takeover; it was a revolution in how West Blue would be run.

"After all," Duke thought with a smile, "infrastructure farming is the eternal god of prosperity."

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