The swamp slowly enveloped the young man lying on the floor. Wilder turned and walked out of the room filled with blinking instruments.
Just outside the doorway, Ashin leaned silently against the wall. Seeing Wilder emerge, he fell into step behind him without a word.
"Is the passage to the underground room open?" Wilder asked as he walked ahead.
Indeed, Ashin had been the one to infiltrate the base beforehand. After receiving Wilder's initial orders, Ashin had conducted a covert investigation, eventually tracking the source to this location. It was around that time the explosions occurred on the various islands. Before the other executives even had a chance to report the incidents to Wilder, Ashin had already relayed the situation here directly to him.
"Mm," Ashin confirmed with a simple nod, ever taciturn.
After navigating the winding underground passages, Wilder reconvened with Claire and the other executives. Emerging back into the open air, he issued an order: "Deploy one hundred crew members to garrison this island."
The island itself wasn't particularly large, nor was it marked on any official maps—more like a small reef, really. What made it valuable, however, was its surprisingly lush vegetation and, more importantly, its extreme seclusion. It lay far off any established shipping lanes.
Naturally, Wilder wouldn't pass up such a location. His interest wasn't in its meager resources; while there were signs of abundant plant life and some animals, it wasn't enough to sustain a major operation. What he truly valued was its secrecy, much like Filgus Island. It could serve as an excellent secret base for future development.
"Yes, Boss," Claire acknowledged, falling into step behind Wilder.
This entire incident had cost the Black Serpent Merchant Guild dearly, not just in manpower but in strategic terms. The most infuriating part for Wilder was that such a relatively minor figure had managed to force the mobilization of his entire senior leadership. It starkly highlighted the Guild's current deficiencies.
Manpower, of course, remained a critical issue, something Wilder constantly emphasized. Unfortunately, progress on that front had been slow. This event served as a harsh lesson.
Beyond the personnel shortage, the other major issue was the headquarters itself.
Yes, the current base in Chenoat, deep within the East Blue, was simply too remote. It was where Black Serpent had risen, but the location was too small, too far removed from the world's major currents, severely limiting its influence and making large-scale recruitment exceptionally difficult.
An idea began to form in Wilder's mind. Perhaps it's time to find a new location for the Black Serpent headquarters.
Black Serpent was destined for greater things, and geography was one of the most crucial factors determining a power's potential for growth. He needed an island capable of supporting the development of a truly formidable organization, one that commanded significant influence! At the very least, it needed to be situated near major maritime routes.
Whether the island was currently prosperous or not was irrelevant. As long as the location was strategic and possessed the underlying potential for development, Wilder was confident he could transform it into a world-class center of power—an island synonymous with Black Serpent, serving as a protective hub, akin to the strongholds maintained by major powers in the New World.
The benefits of such a base were immense: control over trade flow, and the prestige and profit that came with being the lord of an island recognized as a major player in the East Blue, perhaps even across the Grand Line. The world itself would bring him wealth and status.
Thinking beyond the East Blue, locations like the Sabaody Archipelago or Fish-Man Island fit these criteria. Within the East Blue itself, however, only Loguetown seemed comparable in potential significance, though perhaps other suitable, undeveloped islands existed. But Loguetown was heavily monitored by the Marines; Wilder wouldn't touch it, at least not at this stage. It was too sensitive.
Back at the Black Serpent headquarters, Wilder began issuing new orders. First, data collection. The most pressing issue, the one that had to be resolved, was manpower. Wilder was tired of delays. He decided to take a proactive approach: compile lists of individuals across their territories potentially suitable for officer positions. Whatever methods were necessary, he had to free up his senior executives from overseeing individual islands. Power needed to be centralized with him and his core group! The islands must be managed and secured by reliable mid-level officers.
In addition to intelligence gathering, Wilder instructed Claire to establish formal systems for promotion and for rewards and punishments. The promotion system was essentially an incentive structure: anyone, from the lowest recruit to existing officers, would have a path to potentially join the central leadership circle. There were two primary tracks for advancement: one based on contributions and demonstrated management ability, the other based on sheer combat prowess.
The reward and punishment system was exactly what it sounded like. Mistakes or failures would be punished, potentially including demotion. Successes and good performance would be rewarded, including contributions towards promotion criteria. Furthermore, individuals without combat strength—such as doctors, scientists, and other specialists, as well as administrative staff responsible for the Guild's smooth operation (logistics, sales, trade management)—would also have pathways to advance within the hierarchy. These behind-the-scenes roles were vital to the organization's success.
After dispatching these directives, Wilder turned his attention to a more personal matter.
In his office, he sat back in his armchair, his slicked-back hair immaculate, his large black coat draped over the chair's back. He wore only a crisp white shirt, his right leg casually crossed over his left. He looked down dispassionately at the young man crumpled on the floor, bound securely in Seastone handcuffs.
Wilder always paid meticulous attention to his own appearance, even when dealing with a captive. It was a matter of self-respect, and perhaps, a strange form of respect for his opponent. Of course, it also served to starkly contrast his own composure with the prisoner's inevitably wretched state, making their defeat seem all the more absolute. It was a small effort he didn't mind making.
"Anything you'd like to say, Mr. Unknown?" Wilder asked after observing the young man in silence for a long moment, exhaling a plume of cigar smoke.
"Didn't I already tell you? My name is Jesse!" the young man snapped, lifting his head, his expression a complex mix of emotions.
"Is that so… My apologies, I didn't remember."
"..."
"So," Wilder continued, stretching slightly in his chair, leaning back and looking down his nose at the prisoner. "Introduce yourself properly. Of course, I have no interest in details like your gender or your name."
Jesse lowered his head, remaining silent. Wilder didn't rush him, simply watching him with calm detachment.
After a long silence, Jesse seemed to come to a decision. He looked up, and the words he spoke made Wilder's eyebrow arch slightly.
"I am a scientist. From Germa 66."
"Germa 66…" A subtle shift flickered in Wilder's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, his expression returning to neutral calm.
"Yes, Germa 66," Jesse confirmed. "I trust that someone of your status, a Warlord of the Sea, is familiar with Germa 66. I was a scientist there. However, it wasn't by choice. I was forcibly taken into Germa two years ago, during a period when they were aggressively recruiting—or rather, abducting—scientists from all over. And then… after they had me… they kicked me out. They said I wasn't good enough…"