On the first day of their return to the mountain hideout, nothing happened.
Sig's bandit subordinates were still brimming with excitement:
"The boss must have some deeper plan, something massive that he can't share with us just yet!"
The second day, the third day… still, nothing happened.
During these days, Sig's routine was straightforward: strolling around the surrounding area, exercising a bit, or retreating to his room to ponder future actions. He had fully embraced a quiet, retired lifestyle.
There were no developments in Windmill Village, and Garp's warship had yet to arrive.
Eventually, everyone stopped expecting any action.
"Hey, hey, we can't keep going on ."
"Have you all forgotten about the boss's grand plan?"
That morning, the bald bandit called out to all the others with a solemn expression.
"But the boss hasn't given us any orders. What are we supposed to do? Besides… what plan?"
"Look at my head! Did you all forget what happened last night?"
The bald bandit removed his bandana, revealing his shiny head with three prominent lumps.
Seeing this, the bandits suddenly remembered.
"Oh right, now I recall!"
"Last night, you suggested raiding the royal capital, and the boss said you were too bold. Then, he told you to bring your head closer so he could 'buff' you?"
"But… what deeper meaning could there be in that?"
The other bandits stared blankly at the three lumps on the bald man's head.
"You're all too dense. You completely fail to understand the boss's profound intentions."
The bald bandit looked at his companions with an expression of exasperation, as if they were utterly hopeless, and began explaining.
"Last night, the boss knocked on my head three times! Isn't it obvious what that means?"
The bandits remained confused.
The bald bandit, clearly frustrated by their lack of insight, continued to explain:
"The boss meant for me to go to his room at three o'clock in the morning."
"Wait, wait. How do three knocks translate to three o'clock?"
Ignoring their skepticism, the bald bandit pressed on:
"It's crystal clear what the boss intended. He wanted to test me. If I was sharp enough, he would reveal his grand plan to me at three in the morning!"
The other bandits still looked utterly perplexed.
After a long pause, someone hesitantly asked:
"So… what did the boss say? Is there really some grand plan?"
The bald man answered immediately:
"The boss was sleeping."
The bald bandit, undeterred, passionately continued:
"It was clearly a test of my patience! So, I stood outside his door for half an hour until, finally, I heard the boss speak."
"He said: 'A bandit king… I'm destined to be… ZZZZZZ.'"
The bandits fell silent again, their expressions a mixture of doubt and disbelief.
"That's just sleep-talking…"
"Wrong! I've heard that true masters, even in their sleep, are aware of everything around them! Ordinary people can't even approach them unnoticed!"
"So, the boss definitely knew I was there. Those words—he meant for me to hear them!"
Saying this, the bald bandit raised his fist and declared with fervor:
"This is the boss's grand plan!"
"He's going to become the Bandit King! And as his loyal subordinates, shouldn't we do something about it?"
"But… if the boss really had this plan, why hasn't he done anything these past few days?"
Some of the bandits still harbored doubts.
"You call yourselves Sig's subordinates with that attitude?"
The bald bandit exploded with anger. This group was utterly hopeless! How could none of them grasp the boss's grand vision?
Completely fed up, he shouted:
"Didn't the boss tell us to keep an eye on Navy Hero Garp's movements?"
"In his eyes, only Vice Admiral Garp is worthy of his attention!"
"This plan is the boss's test for us. How could we expect him to act personally?"
The bandits exchanged uncertain glances, feeling confused and slowly being swept up in the bald man's fervor.
"Then… what should we do?" someone finally asked.
The bald bandit took a deep breath and uttered two words:
Gillman, the bandit, had been in a terrible mood these past few days.
The challenge he had faced on the road a few days ago had almost become his nightmare.
Not just him—every single one of Gillman's subordinates was equally dejected.
"Sig... What kind of man is he, really?"
"Why, on that day, did I not even have the courage to make a move? Sig's bounty isn't much higher than mine..."
Gillman muttered to himself.
"Because Boss Sig is worth far more than a mere eight million—he's destined to become the Bandit King!"
Just as this voice sounded beside him, a gleaming bald head appeared in front of Gillman.
Upon closer inspection, it wasn't just the bald head; there were nearly thirty bandits standing before Gillman.
Gillman was instantly startled.
"You... I remember you! You're the bald guy from Sig's side!"
As he said this, Gillman seemed to realize something, and his face underwent a drastic change.
"Is Sig planning to wipe us out completely? That's too ruthless..."
Before he could finish speaking, the bald bandit interrupted him.
"Don't get agitated..."
"I've come to invite you to join us under Boss Sig's banner."
The bald man spoke calmly.
Gillman instinctively wanted to refuse, but the thought of Sig—who had nearly become a shadow over his psyche—made him hesitate.
Such an unfathomable and terrifying enemy, if made into his own boss, didn't seem like an entirely unacceptable idea.
After considering for a moment, Gillman didn't agree immediately but instead asked,
"Don't tell me Sig is planning to unite all the bandit forces in the Goa Kingdom and become the Bandit King of the East Blue?"
"Haha, your so-called ambition pales in comparison to Boss Sig's grand plan."
The bald man sneered.
"Boss Sig doesn't aim to become some mere Bandit King of the East Blue."
"What he seeks to become is the world's one and only Bandit King—a figure equal to the Pirate King, Roger, someone who will usher in the Great Bandit Era!"
"You're kidding, right?"
Gillman looked at the bald man and his group as if they were fools.
"No matter how powerful bandits are, they can't compare to pirates. That's just common sense!"
"Sig is certainly strong, but even he can't possibly match up to the Pirate King, Roger!"
In the world of pirates, true strength resided out at sea.
Bandits who confined themselves to a mountain were, at best, local overlords of an island. On a global scale, they didn't even register.
Faced with this question, the bald man fell silent for a long while.
"What you said makes sense. I've pondered this for a long time before finally understanding Boss Sig's ultimate goal!"
At this point, the bald man suddenly raised his head, his eyes seemingly shining with light.
"There exists a mountain in this world—one that is worthy of the title of the world's one and only Bandit King."
"As long as we seize that mountain, the title of Bandit King will be no less grand than that of Pirate King!"
The bald man spoke solemnly.
"...That's impossible. No matter how great the mountain, it can't compare to the Pirate King, who reigns over the seas!"
"If what you're saying truly makes sense, I'll bring all my men to join you!"
Gillman sneered, clearly disbelieving the bald man's words.
The bald man smirked and finally revealed the name of that mountain.
"The highest peak of the Red Line—Holy Land Mariejois!"
"Only that mountain! Only it is worthy of our Boss Sig!"