The distrust of the World Government has been deeply ingrained in people's hearts, and even if it tries to manipulate its image, Alex feels no guilt in calling it out.
Using his words as weapons to penetrate Gion's psychological defenses, Alex pressed forward without giving her a moment to gather herself.
"The second question is about the Celestial Dragons, those privileged few who receive the Heavenly Tribute. I don't need to explain who they are. As a Marine, you probably know better than I do," he said, his voice sharp. "Their cruelty rivals that of pirates, if not surpasses it. They treat civilians as mere playthings, utterly worthless in their eyes. Under their leadership, evil acts like slavery and human trafficking have become widespread."
He continued, relentless. "On one hand, the World Government claims to maintain order and promote peace. Yet, on the other, the very Celestial Dragons it serves lead the slave industry, paving the way for so much destruction and tragedy."
He looked her straight in the eye. "Civilians are forced to bow to the Celestial Dragons' might, hiding their hatred out of fear—just as the World Government enforces its rule through strength, with you, the Marines, as their most effective weapon."
As Alex prepared to press further, Gion, who had remained silent until now, suddenly broke in, her voice sharp and tinged with hysteria.
"Enough! What are you trying to say? What do you want from me? Do you expect me to turn my back on the Marines, to hate the World Government?!"
Alex nodded calmly, meeting her gaze. "Yes, that's exactly what I intend."
The bluntness of his response stunned Gion, but she quickly regained her composure, shouting with conviction, "Do you think I would betray the Marines as you wish? I am a Rear Admiral!"
Yet Alex could sense the tremor in her voice, the slight shake that betrayed her internal struggle. Despite her words, her heart wavered.
He pressed on, his voice unyielding. "Remember what I asked you earlier? Has this so-called peace actually protected civilians, or is the justice you claim to uphold merely justice for the World Government?"
The weight of his question hit hard, compounded by the painful truths he'd laid bare. It subtly chipped away at her understanding of "justice."
Unlike the brainwashed agents of the CP organizations, Gion had her own sense of justice. As a Marine, she prided herself on a justice that resonated with the beliefs of her comrades—a justice that honored both the Marines and the people who placed their faith in them.
Gion joined the Marines with a simple, honorable purpose: to see her homeland protected from pirates. Yet, as Alex's words echoed in her mind, the conviction she once held began to twist with guilt and uncertainty.
To put it plainly, the Marines were a part of the same bureaucracy as any other, rife with hierarchy and power struggles. The higher one climbed, the more of the world's flaws they could see; with greater power came even greater limitations. And slowly, the idealistic beliefs that inspired one to join could become distorted over time.
Seeing Gion's troubled state, Alex felt an unusual empathy, sensing the turmoil in her heart. Her deepening self-doubt and denial hinted that his words had left a mark, so he decided it was time to push her further.
"How about we make a bet?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers.
Gion's gaze narrowed, searching his expression. "What kind of bet?"
"The dark side of the World Government runs even deeper than you think. Take the 'White City' of Flevance, for example," Alex began, his tone grim. "It thrived for a time, but its people are already doomed. Soon, that country will face devastation, and when that happens, the World Government will look the other way."
Gion's reaction was immediate. "How is that possible? Flevance is a member of the World Government!" she countered, disbelief coloring her voice.
Alex's expression remained calm. "That's the bet. When the end comes for Flevance, the World Government will abandon it. They might save the nobles, but the common people? They'll be left to fend for themselves. Peace and protection are reserved for the privileged few."
Gion's eyes hardened, reluctant to accept his wager. "And what makes you so sure?"
"I know," Alex replied, his tone unreadable. "And now, you almost know, too." He gestured to her Marine insignia. "You have the power to investigate it yourself."
Gion blinked, her expression softening slightly. "Are you…letting me go?"
With a hint of regret in his voice, Alex replied, "I'd rather not be surrounded by someone who wants me dead. Besides, this is all just conjecture. Flevance's collapse will happen in a few years; as a Marine, you can look into it yourself. I'm betting that when the truth finally comes out, it will change something within you."
Of course, the wager was only an excuse. For Alex, testing Gion's beliefs was also a measure of his own influence, his own growing power. But more than that, he wanted to pull her—a potential future admiral—into this murky reality. Witnessing such a tragedy firsthand, after fighting so hard for justice, was a blow that might shake her entire worldview.
The people of Flevance were already condemned. Their sickness, poisoned by the toxic Amber Lead, was a known hazard, and the World Government's silence in the face of Flevance's wealth only ensured its grim fate.
Even Sengoku and Kong, the Commander-in-Chief, remained chained by the Government's restrictions in the end. Dragon rebelled, Kuzan adopted a stance of "Lazy Justice," and now Gion—another Marine bound by loyalty—faced her own reckoning.
"I never agreed to this bet," Gion said sharply, but her tone wavered.
Both of them understood what was at stake. And Alex, reading her closely, knew that beneath her defiant exterior, her resolve was already beginning to crumble.