One Piece: The True Codex

The slums of Kalmar City.

Unlike the chaotic, makeshift buildings haphazardly constructed in the surrounding area, the relief center established by William was noticeably cleaner and more orderly.

The three-story building was enclosed by a neatly constructed brick wall. In the open space in front of the building stood a life-sized statue of William. Draped in a cloak, one hand resting on the hilt of a sword, and his face solemnly gazing into the distance, the statue captured an air of dignity and resolve.

The statue was visible even from the gate outside the wall, and at this moment, the man depicted in the statue was busy working in front of the gate.

Long tables had been set up in the courtyard, and a group of people bustled in and out, carrying steaming pots and large basins filled with bread to the tables.

The management team of the relief center consisted mostly of staff Sherlock had transferred from the Four Seas Trading Company, while the frontline workers were primarily locals, most of whom were women. In the slums, women often had no choice but to resort to selling their bodies to survive. For them, working at the relief center was already a much better option.

William initially believed that women would be more effective in handling relief and charity work, and this had proven true in practice. However, some malicious individuals liked to spread rumors. William, not one to tolerate slander, had two of these troublemakers quietly hanged. After that, the gossip ceased entirely.

During his inspection of the relief center, William rolled up his sleeves and joined the workers in their tasks. Naturally, his physical strength far surpassed that of the female workers. Pots that required two women to lift with great effort were easily carried by him alone. By the end, it seemed as though William had completed half the work by himself.

He subtly used a bit of his Devil Fruit ability, allowing steam to condense into droplets on his forehead, making it appear as though he was sweating profusely from the labor.

Several female workers, noticing this, took out handkerchiefs and wanted to help wipe his sweat. However, the deputy director stopped them.

In front of the relief center, a large crowd of raggedly dressed poor people had already gathered. These hungry faces stared intently at the bread, potatoes, and soup on the tables. However, under the watchful eyes of the burly members of the Morgan Pirates stationed nearby, no one dared to rush forward. Instead, they obediently lined up in several queues, with the elderly and weak at the front.

William personally ladled out food, distributing it to the poor who came forward in line. Each person received a piece of bread, a fully cooked potato, and a bowl of thin soup with only a few traces of oil.

Those who received food expressed their gratitude profusely. The elderly who were first to be served leaned against the relief center's walls, either squatting or standing as they ate. Many of them had been here before and knew from experience not to stray too far from the relief center. Otherwise, their food might be snatched away. Here, under the supervision of the Morgan Pirates, no one dared to commit such acts.

One elderly man, gaunt and hunched, with sparse hair, devoured his food ravenously, occasionally glancing around warily. His right eye socket was hollow, and several fingers on his right hand were missing, leaving him looking particularly pitiful.

After finishing his meal, the one-eyed old man licked his lips, glanced left and right, and suddenly began to sob. His crying soon affected the other elderly around him, who also began to weep quietly, attracting the attention of those nearby.

The deputy director of the relief center, a slightly balding man in his thirties or forties named Honoré, was in charge of daily operations.

While William held the title of director, it was mostly in name only. Honoré managed the center's day-to-day affairs.

Hearing the crying, William set down his ladle and walked over to the elderly man. Honoré, noticing this, quickly followed.

"Old man, what's wrong?" William asked gently, his tone warm and approachable.

"My lord," the one-eyed old man exclaimed as he saw William. With a loud thud, he knelt to the ground, tears streaming down his face. "You are our savior!"

William was startled, and despite the dirt and grime, he hurriedly stepped forward to help the old man up. "Please, get up. I can't accept this."

"Why not?" The one-eyed old man stretched his neck and shouted loudly, "I'm an old man with not much time left to live. I have nothing to offer you, but if you ever need anything, even if it costs me my life, I will repay your kindness!"

"That's not necessary," William said quickly.

Honoré, standing nearby, chimed in loudly, "Old man, our director didn't establish this relief center and spend his fortune to help the poor just to ask for anything in return."

"What? Spent his fortune!?" The one-eyed old man cried out hoarsely.

William's brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Honoré paused briefly before continuing, "Of course. The relief center and all this food—none of it came from the palace lords. They didn't contribute a single Berry. It's all from our director's own pocket."

"My lord," the one-eyed old man exclaimed again, attempting to kneel once more, but William held him up, preventing him from doing so. "How could anyone not repay such kindness? Are they even human?"

William sighed. "What I've done is still far too little."

"You've done more than enough! Those high officials and lords have never even looked at people like us, let alone cared whether we live or die," the one-eyed old man shouted until his voice grew hoarse. "If only they were like you, or if you could take charge of this city, things would be so much better!"

The surrounding poor people echoed his sentiments in unison.

While this touching scene played out, a man in one of the queues, noticing that William was no longer at the table, couldn't resist the temptation. Moving quickly, he grabbed a potato from the table and stuffed it into his mouth, ignoring the heat.

Two members of the Morgan Pirates, who had been watching closely, immediately sprang into action. They dragged the man out of the line, even as tears streamed down his face from the scalding heat of the potato in his mouth, his cheeks still bulging.

As the commotion drew the crowd's attention, William and Honoré returned to the table. The one-eyed old man, seeing that no one was paying him any mind, dusted off his knees and quietly left. A few other elderly individuals followed him.

When William returned to the table, he whispered something in Honoré's ear. Afterward, William distributed food to two more groups of people at the relief center's entrance before leaving. Those who arrived later were disappointed to learn that they had missed the chance to see the great philanthropist, William, personally handing out food.

Once the food distribution was complete and the area in front of the relief center was deserted, the one-eyed old man reappeared stealthily in the distance.

Without William around, Honoré, who had been lazily supervising the female workers as they cleaned the tables, immediately walked over to the old man.

"My lord," the one-eyed old man said with a sycophantic smile, revealing a mouthful of uneven teeth. "Today..."

"Your payment for you and your men." Honoré pulled out a small stack of Berry from his pocket and handed it to the old man.

After the one-eyed old man carefully stowed the money away, Honoré continued, "Don't come back next time."

"What?" The one-eyed old man looked bewildered. "Why not, my lord?"

Honoré, visibly annoyed, scolded him, "How many times have you been here already? People are starting to recognize you. If you keep this up, everyone will know you're just acting. I even heard you've been sending your men to other relief centers to steal the spotlight. You're becoming infamous for it!"

"Just trying to make a living," the old man said awkwardly.

"If you have the energy for this, why not improve your acting skills? Our director isn't satisfied with your performance—he said it's too exaggerated," Honoré retorted, hands on his hips.

The one-eyed old man seemed unfazed. Picking his nose, he replied, "The director is wise and mighty, of course, but he doesn't fully understand the people in the slums. If you don't make things clear and spell it out for them, they might not get the message!"

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