Chapter 330: The Colossal Upheaval

"Ugh... Damn it all! That bastard Luffy... with such an absolute, peerless beauty..." Sanji's face cycled through an entire spectrum of agonized expressions, his eyes darting incessantly toward a specific corner of the plaza.

Over there, Luffy was relentlessly inhaling plate after plate of food, demolishing dishes in rapid succession.

He laughed with carefree joy between bites, while beside him, the Pirate Empress—revered across the four seas as the most beautiful woman in the world—smiled tenderly, leaning in to whisper softly into his ear.

"GAAAH!! Just what kind of relationship does that idiot Luffy have with the Empress?! You lucky bastard!" Sanji whined, green with envy, his face contorting into a mask of pure, tearful misery.

"That damn Luffy... ah..." In the next breath, Sanji petrified entirely into solid stone. He... he had actually just watched the Empress pull out a delicate silk handkerchief to gently wipe the grease from Luffy's mouth!

"Hey, hey, hey..."

Usopp waved his hand dismissively.

"Even if it's shock-inducing, there's no need to turn into a literal statue."

"Tch. If that shitty cook wants to drop dead, let him die. Seriously, just ignore him," Zoro muttered from the side, completely indifferent. Tipping back his cup, he drained the liquor in one smooth gulp. "Mmm!"

"Now this... is top-tier booze!"

Enthusiastically pouring himself another full cup, he was just about to down it when a pale, hollow, ghostly face materialized inches from his nose.

"Yikes!!" Zoro recoiled in surprise.

"You bastard! Shitty cook, what the hell do you want?!"

"Shut your mouth, moss-head. Did you just say something about me a second ago?"

"Hah?!"

"What? You looking for a fight?!"

"Hmph. If you want to throw down, I'm ready anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, don't mind those two," Usopp sighed, scooping up a mildly concerned Chopper into his arms.

"Chopper, look at me!" Usopp spun around in a dramatic flourish, instantly twisting his face into an uncanny imitation of Sanji's lecherous, lovestruck grin.

"Bwahaha...!"

Chopper burst into hysterical laughter—the impression was utterly identical.

"Forget about them—let's toast!" The Straw Hat crew raised their tankards together, clinking their drinks high into the air.

While the Straw Hats reveled in unbridled celebration, the rest of the world had plunged into total pandemonium. Emboldened by the chaos, rogue pirates across the oceans had begun rampaging with unprecedented reckless abandon.

Just as civilian grievances and cries of despair mounted, fully armed divisions of the Revolutionary Army stepped onto the global stage.

Revolutionary garrisons mobilized across every major sea to restore civic order, while a brand-new World Government emerged within the view of the global populace.

This time, however, the Celestial Dragons had been dragged down from their divine pedestals. The title of "World Noble" was permanently abolished. Slaves across the globe were granted absolute emancipation, with structured employment plans arranged for their rehabilitation and livelihood.

Naturally, every initiative operated strictly on a voluntary basis.

Following the formal establishment of the New World Government, an emergency summons was issued to the royal families and heads of state of every nation across the seas, convening the very first Levely of the new era!

When the proclamation reached the four corners of the world, every kingdom began scrambling to take action; time waited for no one.

No matter how hesitant or unwilling certain monarchs felt, attendance was an absolute, non-negotiable imperative.

First, the policies of this New World Government would dictate the trajectory of global civilization for generations to come.

Second, the military dominance of this new regime was simply overwhelming. The world leaders had watched the live visual broadcast of the war from start to finish.

That final battle had been nothing short of an apocalyptic event.

The Legendary Four Brothers were no longer merely living legends—they were the foundational myths of this new era, standing at a peak entirely unprecedented in recorded history.

Whether anyone in the future could ever match them remained an open question.

Backed by Revolutionary Supreme Commander Dragon and Neo-Marine Fleet Admiral Weitian, the military strength of this new alliance far surpassed that of the ancient World Government in its prime.

If any ruler dared to defy the summons and provoke their wrath, their kingdom would be erased overnight—and to whom could they possibly plead their case?

Before discerning the political disposition of this New World Government, attending the summit in person to assess the climate was the only rational path.

After all, Revolutionary forces now maintained active control across the entire globe. If they refused to attend, a single order from Dragon could prompt local Revolutionary garrisons to dismantle their thrones in a matter of hours.

After careful, pragmatic deliberation, every monarch arrived at the exact same conclusion: they had to go!

This Levely was open to every nation on earth, granting entry even to non-affiliated states previously excluded from the former council.

Yet none of these diplomatic concerns was the true, underlying catalyst driving the monarchs toward the Holy Land.

Indeed, to maintain logistical stability, the venue chosen for the summit remained the ancient palace grounds atop the Red Line.

After all, it was a familiar setting that everyone knew well.

The true reason lay in a single, chilling sentence Dragon had appended to the formal invitation:

"Attendance at this World Summit is not mandatory, but entirely voluntary. However, we sincerely hope each monarch attends in person. After all, this summit concerns whether your kingdom will continue to exist in the future!"

The moment that line reached their ears, every monarch completely lost their composure.

This man is utterly ruthless!

He preaches 'voluntary attendance' in one breath, and threatens our national survival in the very next!

Is this not a blatant, unvarnished threat?!

Consequently, rulers from every corner of the world immediately commenced frantic preparations for their journeys.

Tardiness was out of the question.

The official letter contained another explicit warning: We trust all delegates will arrive punctually according to the appointed schedule. Otherwise, we cannot guarantee what critical matters you might miss.

Every line of that message carried suffocating pressure, practically telling them to face the consequences themselves if they dared to delay or fail to appear.

Faced with overwhelming military might, they had no choice but to comply with Dragon's directive.

Preserving the security of their homelands was paramount.

Naturally, there were also monarchs concerned purely with preserving their own crowns. Regardless of their motives, the swiftest among them were already embarking on their voyages.

The summit date: exactly one week from today!

Having just emerged from the fires of war, the allied forces atop the Red Line had entered a state of designated rest, receiving medical treatment and recovering from their wounds.

Of course, for monsters like Luffy, physical trauma did nothing to dampen an insatiable appetite for feasting and drinking.

Reunited after two long years, the Whitebeard Pirates gathered in high spirits, talking endlessly with Pops, bursting into thunderous laughter, and downing massive barrels of liquor.

Tucked away in a quiet corner of the Red Line, the Demon Warder—resting in its galleon configuration—lay peacefully moored among the ruins.

Inside a quiet cabin, Drake slowly fluttered his eyes open. Staring blankly at the familiar wooden ceiling, his sluggish mind suffered a momentary lapse as he pieced together his bearings.

"You finally woke up, brat!" The System hopped into the air, its plump, spherical belly bouncing with extraordinary elasticity.

"In terms of recovery, you're genuinely inferior to that brother of yours. After enduring the same tier of critical trauma, that kid just ate a massive meal and recovered seventy or eighty percent on the spot."

"Yet you had to snooze here for this long. Still, looking at your vitals, there shouldn't be any lingering complications."

Hearing the System's commentary, Drake instinctively thought of Luffy. In his memory, no matter how catastrophic Luffy's injuries were, there was no wound that couldn't be resolved with a single feast.

And if one meal wasn't enough, two would do the trick!

"HISS—!!"

The moment Drake attempted to sit up, a sharp movement tugged at his frame, instantly contorting his face into a pained grimace.

What on earth was with this agonizing, muscle-shredding pain tearing through his entire body?!