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Sabaody Archipelago, Groves 40 through 49—the Tourist and Souvenir District.
A ship unlike any other rested at the docks, its hull crafted from unknown red wood into the shape of an elegant, multi-storied pavilion. Most strikingly, it had arrived not from the Grand Line proper, but from the Calm Belt—a feat considered impossible for any vessel save a Marine warship.
At its bow, two massive sea serpents reared their heads, their powerful bodies propelling the ship across calm seas.
This was the vessel of the Kuja Pirates, hailing from the mysterious Amazon Lily—an island nation populated solely by warrior women.
"All combatants, disembark! Time for some shopping," the current Empress of the Kuja commanded, her head held high.
The stunning woman wore a flowing cheongsam that accentuated her regal bearing.
Her warriors, bows slung over their shoulders, leaped onto the mangrove roots like agile panthers.
The Empress nodded with satisfaction, then turned her gaze to three young girls huddled near the railing—Boa Hancock and her sisters, Sandersonia and Marigold. Barely twelve years old, this was their first voyage beyond their secluded island.
"Hancock. Sonia. Mari. This is your first time off the island. You lack experience. Stay here and guard the ship until we return."
"Y-Yes, Empress!" the three girls stammered, though their eyes darted around with obvious disappointment.
They had grown weary of Amazon Lily's unchanging scenery. The dreamlike landscape of Sabaody, the floating bubbles—it was an irresistible spectacle. Yet the Empress's word was law.
They were too young, too weak to join the raid. Guarding the ship was their only role.
Boa Hancock, at twelve, had yet to develop the breathtaking arrogance and narcissism that would one day define her. She was not yet the Pirate Empress.
As the warriors streamed off the ship, the three sisters were left alone—bored and restless.
Young and naive, they had no idea their fates were about to take a dark, irreversible turn.
Groves 40 through 49 might have been the tourist district, yet they bordered the lawless zone, just a few trees away.
In the shadows of those trees, a group of slave traders had already set their sights on the three girls left alone on the Kuja ship.
"The captain and fighters are gone. Now is our chance," a hulking brute of a man, easily four meters tall, whispered eagerly.
"Slaves from Amazon Lily... natural-born warriors. They fetch the highest prices at auction. Catch just one, and we are set for life," another trader—fat and greasy—said while peering through a spyglass.
Fortune favors the bold.
Blinded by the promise of gold, the slavers who made their living trafficking human lives finally screwed up their courage and boarded the Kuja ship.
The three sisters, though panicked, managed to fight back and took down a few attackers. Yet they were no match for the hardened group...
History, it seemed, was determined to follow its original, cruel path.
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Arthur, far away, knew nothing of the events unfolding near Sabaody.
Even if he had, he would not have cared enough to intervene. The Hancock of now was worthless to him. Without her future strength, without her title, her beauty meant nothing.
The grown warriors of Amazon Lily, however... they piqued his interest.
An entire island where every woman was born with the potential for Haki, as if encoded in their very bloodline. If he could bring that island under his rule, they would form a formidable fighting force, perfectly filling the gap in the middle ranks of his Grand Fleet.
His crew was undoubtedly the strongest in terms of top-tier power, boasting two world-class titans in himself and Redfield.
Yet individual strength was not everything. In terms of sheer numbers, Whitebeard could easily overwhelm him.
The New World was vast. You could not hold territory without bodies. If his forces were spread too thin, the other emperors would devour his lands piece by piece.
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Under the brilliant blue sky, outside the water-ringed city of Water 7, two figures walked across the surface of the sea—step by effortless step. A sight that would have driven any onlooker mad.
This method—using the water's surface tension for purchase, preventing oneself from sinking—was infinitely more refined than the brute-force air-stomping of Moonwalk.
Only those who possessed absolute, microscopic control over their immense power could achieve such a feat. The number of men on the seas capable of it could be counted on one hand.
The two men were, naturally, Arthur and Redfield, fresh from Impel Down.
Redfield had accepted Arthur's offer, officially becoming First Mate of the Thunder God Pirates. Even so, the pride ingrained in his very bones refused to simply surrender. The moment the prison's lingering toxins were purged from his system, he had begun subtly testing Arthur's limits.
The journey from Impel Down to Water 7 had been marked by dozens of unspoken clashes.
Contests of Conqueror's Haki intensity. Debates on the nuances of Armament Haki. Explorations of the deeper applications of Observation Haki. Sparring matches testing physical skill, swordsmanship, and Devil Fruit mastery. Even comparing navigational techniques and worldly knowledge.
In some areas, one held the advantage; in others, the other prevailed.
Arthur, already at the world's peak, dominated in raw power and won more often than he lost. Yet when it came to the intricacies of navigation and other practical skills, he was hopelessly outmatched and freely admitted defeat.
Redfield had sailed the seas alone for decades. Survival demanded mastery of a thousand different disciplines.
After days of constant testing, they were more or less evenly matched.
Still, Redfield was a living legend—a man who had once stood against Whitebeard and the Golden Lion alone. His depth of knowledge and mastery of combat were profound. Through their spars, Arthur felt his own understanding of Armament Haki deepen, reaching a new level.
Lost in their rivalry, they had barely noticed the passage of time until finally they arrived at the shores of Water 7, the city renowned as the World's Greatest Shipyard.
Water 7 was home to Tom, the fish-man shipwright who had built Roger's ship. He had been granted a stay of execution by the World Government in exchange for building his revolutionary Sea Train.
Five years had passed since then. Lack of manpower meant the train itself was not finished, yet the tracks—designed to cross all seven sea routes—were already laid.
Arthur and Redfield had come here to borrow those tracks, to take a shortcut to the city of Spring Queen.
The Grand Line's chaotic magnetic fields and unpredictable weather made direct travel a nightmare. Arthur alone could have arrived much faster, but traveling with Redfield using the Sea Train tracks would save considerable time.
Besides, Arthur had not forgotten Vegapunk's request. The conversion of the Thor into the War Fortress required the blueprints for the Ancient Weapon, Pluton.
Water 7 was the place where Pluton had been built eight hundred years ago.
The blueprints had to be in Tom's possession. Coming here served a dual purpose: borrow the tracks and secure the ancient blueprints for Vegapunk. A perfect two-for-one.
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