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On Fire Island, the Revolutionary Army's mission was proceeding exactly as planned. Their spies, disguised as lowly pirates, had successfully embedded themselves within the fringes of the Red-Haired Pirates' influence.
The territorial dispute between the two crews—normally a series of posturing and minor brawls—escalated with terrifying speed. Under the subtle, silent prodding of the Revolutionary agents, Rockstar, who idolized Shanks to a fault, completely disregarded the delicate balance of the border.
Before the Division Captains on either side could intervene to cool heads, the first strike landed. In the brutal world of the New World, the line between a bruise and a corpse is thin; the moment the clash began, a life was extinguished.
Even for the crews of the Four Emperors and the Sovereign, skirmishes were common. However, this blood was spilled on ground both sides claimed as their own, and the killer was a newcomer who wasn't even an official member of the Red-Haired Pirates yet.
..............
Raijin Island.
Shiryu grinned. "Captain, the Red-Haired Pirates shed blood on Fire Island. Vasco Shot and Lucky Roux are at each other's throats."
"Blood in my territory? Captain versus Captain?" Arthur took the ringing Den Den Mushi.
The snail chattered its teeth, three bold scars carved above its left eye—a direct line from Red-Hair.
"Shanks, are you calling to apologize?" Arthur's voice was low and dangerous.
Shiryu, Stussy, and Hancock held their breath. They stood in a silence so heavy it felt physical, listening to a conversation between two men whose words could tilt the axis of the world.
"Arthur," Shanks' voice came through, steady and untroubled. The chaos on Fire Island hadn't seemed to dampen his spirits in the slightest. "How do you want to settle this?"
"I can't exactly pretend it didn't happen, can I, Shanks?" Arthur's lips pulled back into a grin. "Someone touched my people on Fire Island. None of them leaves that island alive. DO YOU AGREE, OR DO YOU DISAGREE?"
"Now that's a problem," Shanks chuckled. The Den Den Mushi picked up the sound of several people behind him drawing sharp, quick breaths. "Rockstar might not be a full member yet, but he drew his blade for our sake. Handing him over is out of the question."
"Loyal to a fault, heh… Hahahaha!" Arthur felt a flicker of long-dormant excitement spark in his chest. "I take it you've finally prepared yourself for war?"
"It's been nearly twenty years. We've long passed the date of our original promise," Shanks' smile faded, his voice carrying a sudden, staggering weight of battle intent that vibrated through the snail. "It seems the sea itself is tired of waiting for us."
"Where?" Arthur asked coldly.
"Where it started is where it ends. One month from now, the Red-Haired Pirates will be waiting for you on Fire Island."
"I've been waiting to see what you're made of, Shanks—to see how much of Roger's legacy you truly carry. Are you certain? If you can't match me, you'll lose your life."
"Hahahaha! We won't know that until we try, Thunder Emperor Arthur!!!"
The line went dead. Arthur's grin remained. On this sea, a man truly feels alive only in the heart of the storm.
"Starting a war over a single rookie?" Arthur mused. "Or was the rookie just the excuse he needed to finally pull the trigger? Typical Shanks…"
"Lord Arthur, should we mobilize the fleet?" Hancock's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she shot a provocative look toward Stussy. "The Kuja warriors never shy away from a massacre!"
"No need," Arthur waved a hand dismissively. "Red-Hair doesn't have many men, but every one of them is a monster. We'll bring the Division Captains. That's more than enough."
The Red-Haired Pirates were the smallest of the top-tier crews, consisting entirely of elites. But Arthur's Captains had been forged in the fire for years; they were no longer the men they once were.
..............
"Do they truly not care that we are watching?"
"Arrogant as ever. The Thunder Emperor, the Red-Hair… all of these New World pirates are the same."
In a dark room far from the New World, the high-ranking members of the Revolutionary Army sat around a black interception Den Den Mushi. Their faces were grim.
"They didn't even bother to mask the signal. They stated the time and place openly. Do they not fear a Marine ambush?"
"The Marines will certainly hear it," Dragon said, calmly watering the interception snail. "But they won't dare move. When the two strongest forces in the New World collide, the Navy won't intervene. They'll wait on the outskirts, hoping to scavenge the remains. They know better than to get caught in the crossfire."
Dragon's eyes narrowed. "Their arrogance has given us exactly what we needed. Morley, do we have the DYNA Stones?"
"We have them," the giant Morley replied with a blunt, honest nod. "Should I go bury them on Fire Island?"
"This is our only chance," Dragon said, his voice hardening. To himself, he added: And the best chance to avenge the old man.
Dragon had once been a Marine under Garp. His path to becoming an Admiral had been a certainty until he saw the rotting core of the World Government and chose to rebel. Garp had carried the burden of that betrayal for years. Dragon didn't speak of his family often, but a man's emotions aren't found in his words—they are found in his resolve. Arthur had killed Garp, and Dragon had waited years for an opening. This was it.
"Dragon, are we all going?" Ivankov asked, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. Kuma clutched his Bible in silence, while Inazuma swirled his wine.
"Let us go too!!" Sabo, now fifteen and already showing the sparks of greatness, shouted with excitement.
"Be quiet!" Koala snapped, covering Sabo's mouth to stop him from making a scene.
"Kuma and Inazuma will come with me," Dragon decided. "Betty, Morley, Lindbergh, Karasu—you stay."
"The seeds of the Revolution must not be extinguished. If anything happens to us, the will must be inherited by you. If we fail, take the movement underground or disband immediately… as long as you live, the flame will never die."
"Leader!!" Sabo tore himself away from Koala, his voice thick with a new emotion.
He had been mature since the day he joined the Revolutionaries, his noble upbringing leaving him polite and composed. But hearing Dragon speak as if he were leaving a final testament made Sabo feel a burning, singular hatred for the first time in his life.
His target was the man who forced him to make such a choice. Thunder Emperor Arthur—the strongest, most terrifying monster on the sea.
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