For every 100 PS = 1 bonus chapter
---
Morgans paused on purpose, a glint of mystery flashing in his eyes.
Ron's brows furrowed slightly as he looked at him, clearly waiting for more.
Morgans lowered his voice, speaking with a tone both cryptic and ominous: "According to legend, he may possess resurrection technology. The corpses of some powerful individuals have mysteriously vanished... it might be tied to him. Of course, it's all speculation. No solid proof. But just the possibility is chilling."
Resurrecting the dead? Specializing in stealing corpses?
Ron was baffled. All signs pointed to something like Gekko Moria's powers. Was this guy copying the Shichibukai's whole aesthetic?
"Interesting. I didn't expect the pirate world to be hiding so many shadowy monsters," Ron muttered.
"Hahahahaha! Ron, you still know so little," Morgans burst into laughter, clearly smug. "You've only scratched the surface of this world's chaos."
He continued, "Take the Four Emperors—Kaido and Big Mom. They're the surface-level apex. But behind the scenes? It's these underworld kings pulling the strings. Think about it—what happens if those kings stop supplying them?"
Ron's expression shifted slightly. Morgans had a point.
Of course, anyone who dared block business with the Four Emperors could expect a 'friendly visit' that same afternoon.
But there was truth to it—trading power and raw strength weren't the same thing.
Ron hated dealing with convoluted matters like this. Luckily, he had Morgans for that.
"My head hurts already. I'm leaving all this to you, Morgans. I'm just here to kick back," Ron said, rubbing his temples, fully committing to his hands-off management style.
"What!?" Morgans shouted, pointing at Ron in disbelief. "Ron! I owe you a lot, sure, but that doesn't mean I'm your errand boy! I still have a newspaper company!"
Ron ignored the tantrum. He casually picked up a cup of tea, took a slow sip, and replied calmly:
"Didn't you move your entire newspaper business to TikTok ages ago? I'm the one who gave you official certification."
Morgans choked on his indignation.
It was true, thanks to Ron, his news agency was now TikTok-verified and sitting at the top of the influencer food chain.
Every video he posted racked up millions of views—way more than anything he ever got selling newspapers.
Without question, Morgans was now the undisputed King of News.
"Of course," Ron added with a playful tone, "If you'd prefer to go back to being a street-corner paper peddler, I'll just go ahead and revoke that verification—"
"Stop!" Morgans wheezed, forcing himself to breathe calmly. After a moment, he slumped and muttered, "Fine, I'll do it."
Ron smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. We split the profit fifty-fifty. Fair enough?"
"Really?" Morgans' eyes lit up for a second, but then he looked at Ron suspiciously. "You're not serious, are you?"
"Of course I'm serious. You know me. I'm not in this for the money," Ron said with a faint smile.
Morgans stared at him blankly. He did know Ron, and that was the weirdest part—Ron genuinely didn't seem to care much about wealth.
Morgans sighed and stopped arguing. The two of them quickly finalized some key details and left to handle business.
…
Three days later.
A storm swept across the commercial world, reshaping everything with overwhelming force.
Throughout the Four Seas, the Grand Line, and even the New World, whether in bustling port cities or forgotten mountain villages, phones were popping up everywhere.
Restaurants, bars, shops, and even street vendors were now selling them.
Most weren't official channels, of course. But the packaging, manuals, and appearance were identical to the real thing. You couldn't tell the difference.
They were a bit more expensive—but still affordable to most.
For the truly poor, though, even these prices were a stretch. They had to wait and hope for price drops.
Restaurant and bar owners, sensing an opportunity, started displaying phones prominently. Pirates, merchants, tourists—anyone passing through—couldn't help but take a look.
While sipping on drinks or snacking, customers would casually pick one up, flip through the instructions, ask for the price—and boom, another sale.
Selling phones ended up being more profitable than food or booze!
Even in remote areas, villagers came across simple roadside stalls filled with these sleek new devices.
Vendors patiently explained how the phones worked and what they were good for.
Wealthier families started buying them as a form of entertainment. Owning a phone became a symbol of modern living.
The poor? They could only watch enviously, hoping one day they could own one too.
Despite the inflated prices in black market sales, enthusiasm didn't drop. In fact, it surged.
Phone fever had swept across every region. In towns big and small, people buzzed about them constantly.
Those who already had phones walked around proudly.
Those who didn't could only stare in longing.
And with all that exposure, user growth skyrocketed.
Tens of thousands of people joined TikTok every single day.
From the early days of a few million users, the app now boasted over eighty million.
The growth stunned even Ron.
However…
Despite reaching 80 million users, the system still didn't upgrade.
Ron sat in his room, staring at the system screen with frustration. He'd expected a system notification by now—new features, better functions, some epic power boost.
But the system remained dead silent.
"How many users does it take to upgrade?" he muttered, tapping the interface repeatedly.
He tried asking the system directly, but it didn't respond. Total ghost mode.
"Whatever. As long as the numbers keep going up, it'll trigger eventually."
Bored, Ron opened the video feed and began scrolling.
Then his expression froze.
He had stumbled upon another Straw Hat video.
But this time… it wasn't their usual chaos.
It was an urgent plea for help!
(To be continued.)