Chapter 177: When Chaos Sweeps the Four Seas

He was right. As he made his way to the New World, the Four Seas had already plunged into chaos.

It all started because their actions stirred up trouble everywhere, drawing the Navy’s relentless pursuit and leaving their forces severely weakened.

Now, aside from the Four Great Organizations, the Mafia had become public enemy number one across the seas.

West Blue.

“Boss, it’s time to make a decision.”

Stac paced back and forth in the room, his hands twisting nervously. One look and you could tell just how anxious he was.

Phil lounged on the sofa, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“The Navy can’t do anything to us yet.”

Stac walked up to Phil, braced his hands on the sides of the sofa and leaned in, gazing down at him.

“Boss, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

“That man is dead—he’s really dead. Did you know?”

“What are we supposed to do next?”

Phil calmly pushed him away.

“Getting ahead of yourself never leads to anything good.”

He stood, walked over to the desk, sat down and pulled open a drawer, fishing out a square piece of paper.

“Boss, what’s that?” Stac hurried to the desk and blurted out.

With a thoughtful look Phil answered slowly, “It’s that man’s Vivre Card.”

Hearing him say each word, Stac looked as if he’d been struck by lightning and slumped into the chair across from him.

“So that’s why you’re so calm, Boss. You already knew.” Stac paused for a moment, sounding defeated.

Phil put the Vivre Card back in the drawer.

His face grew a shade more serious. “At first I thought he was done for too, but then just yesterday…”

As he spoke, Phil seemed to recall yesterday’s events.

Yesterday he’d entered this very room as usual, planning to have some time alone to think about their next move. But when he opened the drawer, he found that man’s Vivre Card burned down to a tiny scrap.

He could smell opportunity in the air, a once-in-a-lifetime chance. After all, nobody liked having someone with authority hanging over their head. So he scribbled away at the desk, working frantically.

After a few hours and several rereads, he finally nodded in satisfaction at the new plan he’d written out.

Just as he was about to issue new orders with a look of giddy excitement, he caught sight of the Vivre Card out of the corner of his eye—slowly regenerating. The thrill instantly vanished.

He sat there by himself for hours, watching as that tiny piece steadily grew back to its original shape.

Afterward, he burned the plan he’d just written right there in the room.

After hearing Phil recount everything, Stac seemed to regain some of his composure.

“So basically, there’s still nothing we can do.”

Just then, Phil let out a soft chuckle. “Stac, do you know where this Vivre Card came from?”

Stac shook his head. How would he know something like that?

“I made it behind his back—snuck it out myself.”

Stac’s eyes flicked with understanding. “So that means the other three seas have no clue.”

“Too many people eating cake isn’t a good thing, you know?”

From his tone, Stac understood exactly what he was about to do.

“Got it, Boss. I’ll get things moving right away.” Stac grabbed his beret and strode out the door.

It was time for the Capone Family to extend their reach into other seas.

With the Capone Family stirring up trouble, both North Blue and South Blue descended into turmoil first.

Meanwhile, the Bartow Family in East Blue managed to dodge disaster thanks to the Navy hero Garp’s frequent returns.

“With that man’s fate still unknown, let’s hold off on sending tribute gold to the New World for now.”

“Sir, isn’t that risky? What if…”

“What, you think you get to question my decisions?” The South Blue Mafia boss Clyde glared furiously at the messenger.

“Yes, Boss.”

After the underling left, Clyde stared at the massive sea chart on the wall and let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t blame me. There’s just too much wealth at stake. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for dying on some unknown island.”

Far off in North Blue, Brady—boss of the Mark Mafia family—made the exact same choice.

At the same time, their connections in both areas were eliminated.

“How’s the communication coming along?”

On Cake Island, the signal team usually picked up news from East and West Blue, but tried again and again to reach North and South Blue, puzzled by the silence.

Assuming it was just a tech issue, they quickly tried to contact other members in North and South Blue.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

“If you get this, please respond, over. If you get this, please respond.”

“Hello?”

“What’s going on?”

The team’s leader, Jerris, entered the room. Today was the day for all Four Seas to report their earnings—there’d never been a problem before. Why now?

“Leader Jerris, we just got a message!”

At the shout, Jerris hurried over.

A Den Den Mushi sat before the member, and a fax was slowly printing out six characters.

Jerris took the slip, reading it out loud word by word: “South Blue, North Blue, autonomy!”

“Bang!” Jerris’s face darkened as he finished reading, slamming the table hard.

“How dare they defy us!”

Clutching the paper, Jerris stormed out of the communication room. He had to bring the news to Lady Linlin—there’s no way she’d let this slide.

He never imagined someone would have the nerve to rebel against Lord Karl’s rule.

“What’s happened?”

“Why’d the leader just storm out all angry?”

One of the members nearby couldn’t resist his curiosity, practically grinning with gossip.

“Looks like South and North Blue have rebelled, stopped paying tribute.” He shrugged as he explained.

A member nodded thoughtfully. “Guess they still don’t know Lord Karl has recovered.”

To calm everyone on the island, word had already gone out that Lord Karl was alive and well.

Karl’s Vivre Card radiated with so much life, there was no way to fake it.

“Who knows? Maybe this way we’ll smoke out a few traitors!” Another member stretched lazily, hands behind his back.

“True, even Wano has rebelled, hasn’t it?”

That got everyone laughing.

They joked about how some people didn’t appreciate these peaceful days—what’s so bad about living under Lord Karl’s rule?

Wasn’t the law on the island fair enough?

Finding someone in the New World who’d stand up for ordinary people was about as rare as spotting a giant panda.

Plenty to eat, to drink, decent clothes, no harsh rules—just regular eight-hour shifts and weekends off. Overtime? Never.

So how could anyone want to rebel against a paradise like this? What exactly are they thinking?