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Ti, fleeting as ever.
The Fire Festival was now just days away.
Thanks to ticulous preparations, the entire country had been transford. Lights and decorations adorned every corner, creating a vibrant atmosphere that evoked the prosperity of a golden era. Streets were lined with rows of food stalls, filling the air with enticing aromas and the cheerful hum of celebration.
In the Flower Capital, joyous crowds thronged the streets. However, a large central area had been cleared, connecting the grand square directly to the General Castle. This special reserved area served as the festival's focal point, with an impressive opera house stage set up at its heart, towering over the massive stairway leading to the square.
anwhile, ships bearing invitations had begun arriving. Over the past few days, they passed through the Habu Port after careful inspections, bypassing the treacherous whirlpool-infested waters and the great waterfall to reach Wanokuni's inner harbor. From there, guests traveled to the Flower Capital aboard sleek, floating yachts powered by electric energy. These journeys provided a breathtaking high-altitude view of Wanokuni.
"This is Wanokuni! It's truly sothing else!"
For many first-ti visitors, the sight of the country was nothing short of spectacular. Onboard airships, guests were treated to carefully arranged views of the Flower Capital. The grandeur of the landscapes below left even seasoned travelers in awe.
Tourists lined the streets of Wanokuni's townships, marveling at their unique features. Entertainnt districts bustled with activity, while military sites and research facilities hinted at the country's strategic importance.
The sight was a striking contrast to the sugary indulgence of Cake Island, where Big Mom hosted her infamous tea parties. Unlike the leisurely atmosphere of desserts and pleasantries, the Fire Festival radiated the fiery passion of a nation's pride and strength, showcasing Wanokuni's depth and power.
Upon reaching the Flower Capital, this grandeur beca even more palpable.
The festival's centerpiece was the palace surrounding the General Castle, a sprawling structure resembling a andering river that flowed into the most prosperous areas of the Flower Capital. Invited guests were given accommodations within this magnificent palace. Many of them wandered its opulent corridors, exchanging pleasantries and soaking in the vibrant scenes of the capital below.
Of course, the true asure of prestige lay in the arrivals of the guests themselves.
Among the newcors, none drew more attention than the six most influential leaders of the New World's underground forces. Guarded by their retinues, they strode into the palace like royalty, their presence commanding the attention of everyone present.
"What an incredible city! As expected of a land once known as the Country of Gold!" exclaid Morgans, his cara Den Den Mushi clicking away as he captured scene after scene of the Flower Capital's festive splendor.
"Indeed," replied another guest with a knowing nod. "Wanokuni is a treasure trove. Its masterful craftsmanship now accounts for one-third of New World's arms and seastone production. And let's not forget its bountiful grain exports. Truly, this land is the envy of the New World."
The speakers exchanged glances, their tone tinged with a mix of admiration and envy, for it was clear that the Fire Festival wasn't rely a celebration. It was a powerful statent of Wanokuni's wealth, influence, and unshakable prominence in the New World.
As Feld spoke, his gaze lingered on the two underground kings who dominated the shipping and warehousing industries. His words carried a tinge of envy and jealousy.
After all, since connecting their operations with Wanokuni's lucrative trade routes, these two old rivals had reaped imnse profits. Even though their gains accounted for less than half of the total revenue, the sheer scale of the earnings was staggering.
The two n in question offered knowing smiles but remained silent. While they maintained cordial relations under normal circumstances, their rivalry over profits remained as fierce as ever.
"Because of that Flying Admiral," Stussy remarked, her eyes scanning the bustling streets. "I've heard the famous Amazon Lily and the Tontatta live here as well."
She gestured subtly toward the crowd, where sharp-eyed observers could catch glimpses of the tiny Tontatta people darting along the decorative structures towering over the festivities.
"And those restricted areas... I'd love to take a peek," Morgans added, his gaze fixed on the lands stretching beyond the mountains of the Flower Capital. "Publishing a report about them would make headlines for sure."
The zones divided by Wanokuni had piqued Morgans' curiosity. Chief among them was Amazon Lily, the legendary island of won. Its allure, especially for n, rivaled even that of Fish-Man Island.
"If you're thinking like that, you might want to choose your newspaper's next heir before you go exploring," Stussy teased with a sly smile.
Her words weren't re jest. Amazon Lily was not only a nation of warriors but also protected by Wanokuni's formidable presence. Even veterans of the underworld, no strangers to danger, knew better than to underestimate Wanokuni's strength, particularly in its restricted zones.
Stussy, of course, knew more than most. Despite deploying skilled intelligence agents with various thods, even her network had failed to penetrate the secrets of Wanokuni's restricted areas.
"Don't worry," Morgans replied with a chuckle. "I'm only joking. After all, we're guests here—I'll behave."
Still, Morgans continued snapping photos of every corner, capturing the grand spectacle from every angle. Suddenly, his keen eye caught sothing in the distance. "Wait a minute... That group—aren't they from the Donquixote Family out of North Blue?"
The other five underground kings turned their attention toward the approaching figures. Sure enough, the unmistakable sight of flamboyant pink feathers confird their suspicions. As the group drew closer, the infamous Doflamingo, the "Heavenly Yaksha," ca into full view, accompanied by four of his most trusted officers.
"What a vibrant country," Diamante said, taking in the bustling sights of the Flower Capital. "It feels every bit as prosperous as a powerful World Governnt affiliate."
"Imagine if we could control a nation like this soday," Trebol muttered, his gaze wandering. From the mont they entered Wanokuni, the splendor of the country had left him awestruck. Compared to this, his life as a self-styled emperor of North Blue suddenly felt insignificant.
"Fufufu, don't get so gloomy, Trebol," Doflamingo said with his trademark sinister grin. "The future is unpredictable, and our ti will co."
There was an edge of determination in his voice as he added, almost to himself, "The country that was once ours... I will take it back. No matter what."
As if sensing the weight of the mont, Doflamingo's gaze shifted toward the palace. Within its grand halls were so of the most powerful figures in the New World, each a master in their respective fields. The connections he could forge here would pave the way for his family's expansion into the New World.
But most important of all were the Four Emperors who ruled this sea.
Doflamingo's piercing eyes locked onto the highest point of the palace, where the General Castle stood towering over the Flower Capital. There, he knew, resided the Emperor of Wanokuni—Shogun Alex.
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