One Piece: The user of the Nen-Nen Fruit, who overturned the sea.

The death of the Golden Lion didn't even cause a ripple on the sea.

Morgans wanted to report on it and called Roy, but Roy shut him down with a single sentence—

"A remnant of the old era, he's dead, what's there to write about?"

Although the famous journalist was unwilling, he dared not go against Beehive Island on this matter.

And so, Shiki the Golden Lion's death was quietly buried in history, except for a few people from Beehive Island.

No one knew that the Flying Pirate who once stood on equal footing with Roger and Whitebeard would eventually be buried on a deserted island without even a name.

After returning to Beehive Island, Roy immediately began to deal with more important matters.

Stella placed a thick stack of tax returns from the New World on his desk, as thick as a palm.

Roy flipped through a few pages, then frowned.

It's not because we can't collect enough, but because we've collected too much.

The numbers on the report surprised him a bit—

Those kings who once complained of poverty under the rule of the World Government are now paying taxes with increasing enthusiasm, some even voluntarily increasing their taxes by 30%.

"What's wrong with these guys?"

Roy threw the report on the table.

"I set the tax rate at only 10%, so why are they paying so much?"

Stella rolled her eyes, her expression saying, "You don't even understand this?"

"The rule you set in the New World is to collect only one-tenth of all income as tax."

What about the World Government?

The tax rate for Heavenly Gold starts at 30%, plus various surcharges, protection fees, and tributes—in total, at least half of it has to be handed over.

Which side do you think the kings would choose?

Roy paused for a moment, a flash of understanding crossing his eyes.

He really hadn't thought about this issue in detail.

For him, the resources of the New World were already sufficient to support the operation of Hive Island; taxes were merely a symbolic rule.

The main purpose was to give those forces that submitted a clear set of obligations.

But he forgot that for those countries struggling to survive in the cracks of the new world, the difference in tax rates meant an entire surplus in the national treasury.

"There's something even more important."

Stella pulled a letter from under the report; the envelope was sealed with the coat of arms of a certain kingdom in gold lacquer.

"The kings of the New World who have submitted to us have now begun to actively send their country's young talents to Beehive Island."

"Why did you send someone here?"

What do you think?

They wanted these young men to establish themselves in the army on Beehive Island, ideally becoming squad leaders like Dangdang.

That way, if their country ever runs into trouble, at least someone on Beehive Island will have someone to speak up for them.

Roy took the letter, opened it, glanced at it, and the smile on his lips grew wider and wider.

The letter was written by the king of a kingdom called Baron, and the wording was extremely respectful, with a tone full of flattery.

The gist is that "there is a group of talented young people in our country who admire the reputation of Beehive Island and hope to have the opportunity to serve the Heavenly Emperor."

Attached to the letter was a list of over thirty names, each followed by a description of the young people's special talents.

There are those skilled in swordsmanship, those proficient in navigation, those with Devil Fruit abilities, and even one with the rare talent of being able to communicate with Sea Kings.

"These people certainly know how to scheme," Roy said, tossing the letter back onto the table.

"There's more than one."

Stella took out another stack of letters from the cabinet, at least twenty or so.

"All I've received in the last two months are recommendation letters from various countries."

I did a rough calculation, and there are over a thousand people in total.

Roy was silent for a few seconds, then stood up and walked to the window.

Looking out the office window, you can see the main port of Beehive Island.

The harbor was filled with all sorts of ships, including warships flying the Beehive Island flag, merchant ships from various countries, and sailboats that had clearly come from afar.

The dock was bustling with activity; porters carried goods back and forth on the pier, and vendors shouted their wares at the top of their lungs.

The new recruits ran in neat rows on the training field.

More than a decade ago, Beehive Island was a den of pirates, but now it looks like the center of a rising great power.

"The more people, the better."

Roy turned around.

"Stella, go and gather information on some uninhabited islands in the new world. I'll bring a few more over later. We don't have enough training grounds."

"Moving again?"

"right.

"We're moving more this time; we need to be able to accommodate at least 100,000 people training simultaneously."

Stella wrote the command down in her notebook, then looked up.

"There's one more thing."

At the experimental base, the weapons factory has been built, and a new batch of weapons and ammunition has begun mass production.

The doctoral assistants at the experimental base asked me to tell you this.

The replication of the mechanical soldiers is also in its final stages, with the first batch expected to be ready within three months.

"The efficiency is not bad."

Roy nodded, sat back down in his chair, picked up his pen, and began reviewing the mountain of documents.

In the days that followed, the changes on Beehive Island became visible to the naked eye.

First came the influx of people, with young people from various countries being housed in newly built barracks.

The barracks were temporary structures, four stories high, with each floor accommodating two hundred people, and a total of twenty buildings were constructed.

But they soon found it wasn't enough—almost twice as many people came as expected.

Stella had to temporarily requisition several warehouses in the port area and convert them into makeshift dormitories.

Then came Roy's actions. He obtained the location of the uninhabited island from Stella and used his abilities to move many islands there.

In less than a month, four large uninhabited islands appeared around Beehive Island.

These islands were named "Training Zone 1," "Training Zone 2," "Training Zone 3," and "Training Zone 4," and each island has complete training facilities.

The school has a playground, shooting range, fighting arena, equipment training room, and even dormitories and canteens.

Roy's training requirements for new recruits were simple, but also extremely strict.

All new recruits must first undergo three months of basic training—physical fitness, combat, weapons handling, and basic navigation.

Three months later, an assessment will be conducted. Those who pass will stay to continue their studies, while those who fail will be sent back to their place of origin.

The remaining recruits will be assigned to different specializations.

Combat units, reconnaissance units, logistics units, intelligence units, and the most special units: units of Devil Fruit users.

The training manual is the "Strength Training Manual" that has spread all over the world.

However, the Beehive Island version contains much more content than the versions available on the market.

More detailed illustrations of the Six Styles of the Navy, a more systematic method for cultivating domineering power, and summaries of various practical combat experiences.

This content was accumulated by the cadres of Beehive Island during their two years of fighting, and it is much more detailed than the basic version written by Roy back then.

The weapons factory on Beehive Island is a huge complex covering more than ten square kilometers.

The main factory building is 30 meters high, with a steel frame and gray exterior walls, and looks like a giant beast lying on the seashore from a distance.

The factory was brightly lit, and the roar of machinery could be heard day and night.

On the assembly line, one shell after another is precisely inserted into its casing by a robotic arm.

One by one, the swords and knives were brought to the quality inspection table to be tested for hardness.

Rows of ammunition boxes were packed and sealed, waiting to be loaded onto the ship.