The Corrida Colosseum.
The Colosseum is operated by the Donquixote Family, but it has stood in Dressrosa for hundreds of years.
The arena has existed since the Donquixote Family first ruled Dressrosa nine hundred years ago. In those days, under a system of slavery, the Donquixote Family would throw prisoners of war and death-row inmates into the arena to slaughter one another for their own amusement.
Later, eight hundred years ago (following the Void Century), the Donquixote Family left Dressrosa to join the World Government and become Celestial Dragons. When the Riku Family became the new royal lineage, they did not demolish the arena. Instead, it was preserved as a symbol of Dressrosa's martial tradition.
Ten years ago, when the Donquixote Family returned to power, the Colosseum saw a rebirth. It was heavily renovated, and many of its internal facilities were reconstructed. For this grand tournament specifically, knowing the sheer number of powerhouses in the New World, several massive replacement rings were prepared in advance to ensure that if one block destroyed the stage, the following contestants wouldn't be left without a place to fight.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The stage has been replaced, and the final qualifying round is about to begin!"
"Please welcome the contestants of Block F to the stage!"
"Contestants of Block F, take your positions!"
Seeing that the replacement ring was secured, Gatz raised his Den Den Mushi microphone and shouted, his voice broadcasting through loudspeakers across the entire stadium.
Inside the preparation room, the crowd of contestants who had been waiting impatiently began to file out.
"I'm off."
Vito stood up and rolled his neck, letting out a sharp crack. He began walking toward the exit.
"Vito!"
Dimitri called out, stopping him in his tracks.
"Hm...?" Vito paused after his first step and turned back, looking at Dimitri with a questioning gaze.
Dimitri stared into Vito's eyes and said flatly, "You are absolutely not allowed to lose again."
Hearing this, Vito pulled back his lips to reveal a mouthful of jagged fangs. He gave a predatory grin. "Don't worry. I don't have a split personality like some people."
"Hey! You bastard, what did you just say?!" Cavendish barked from the side, immediately taking offense at the jab.
However, Vito didn't even spare Cavendish a glance. He continued walking toward the doors, leaving a fuming Cavendish shouting behind him.
Before long, the ring was swarming with people as the contestants of Block F assembled.
"The victory in this round belongs to me!"
In the middle of the crowd, a tall, burly man with a scarred face raised his arm and made a loud, arrogant proclamation. Standing four or five meters tall, his skin was pitch black, and his muscles were built to an inhuman degree. Draped in a black bear-pelt cloak and wearing a necklace of beast fangs, he moved like a massive grizzly, radiating a ferocious pressure.
"Shut up, you bastard!"
"Don't get cocky, Fran!"
"If you want to win this, you'll have to go through my axe first!"
His words immediately drew the ire of the surrounding fighters, who began hurling insults his way.
At that moment, a mocking, cackling laugh cut through the noise. "Sshhe-sshhe-sshhe... Quite the arrogant one, aren't you, 'Human Bear' Fran? You seem like a man whose brain hasn't quite caught up with his body!"
The crowd turned to see a dark-haired man of the Snakeneck Tribe. He had purple eyeshadow and a smirk full of wicked disdain. He wore a black shirt and trousers adorned with grey serpentine patterns, with two katanas hanging at his waist.
"'Demon Snake' Juka, I'm going to snap that long neck of yours later!" Fran threatened coldly.
Unimpressed, Juka reached down and drew both katanas. He gave a chilling smile. "Sshhe-sshhe-sshhe... If you think you're capable, then come and try!"
Near the edge of the ring, a middle-aged man with a slicked-back, greased pompadour calmly surveyed the crowd. He muttered to himself, "So many high-tier specimens. If I could sell them all to the Celestial Dragons, I'd make a fortune!"
He was dressed in a silver suit with pointed leather shoes, appearing perfectly polite. Despite his aristocratic demeanor, he was Eden, a human trafficker loathed by countless people across the New World.
On the other side of the ring, Vito stood in the center. A five-meter radius around him was completely empty; the other fighters were clearly intimidated and didn't want to cross him so early.
"Hmph. A bunch of pathetic rabble," Vito muttered, casting a disdainful look around the ring.
His gaze then shifted toward an elderly man nearby. This was a figure who had roamed the seas decades ago, the legendary man, "Flash Blade" Gergiel Haunger.
Within two seconds of Vito's gaze landing on him, Haunger seemed to sense it. He turned his head, and his gaze, as sharp as a blade, locked onto Vito's.
Vito's pupils suddenly contracted.
So strong! Just from his gaze, I can feel a sword powerful enough to pierce through anything! Vito thought, inwardly shaken.
Haunger stared at Vito with a piercing, lethal intent. He reached out and gripped the hilt of his estoc, drawing it with a sharp shing. The bright, slender blade shimmered under the arena lights.
Why is his bloodlust toward me so intense? Did I offend him somehow? Or does he have a grudge against someone I know? Vito felt the overwhelming killing intent and was genuinely perplexed.
On the commentary platform, Gatz looked down at the crowded stage and screamed, "Now, let the final qualifying round, Block F, officially begin!"
DING!
Gatz struck the bell.
"Die, you bastard!"
Fran was the first to move. He threw a punch toward Juka, his terrifying strength displacing the air and creating a shockwave of wind pressure that knocked back several nearby contestants.
"Aah!"
"What's happening?!"
Screams erupted as many of the fighters hadn't even realized the battle had started.
Clang!
Before the fist even arrived, the intense gale from the punch slammed into Juka's face. Juka quickly drew his twin blades, crossing them to meet Fran's fist.
The fist, as large as a cooking pot and coated in black armament, slammed into the crossed steel blades. A deafening metallic boom echoed across the arena, sending ripples of shockwaves outward. The ground beneath Juka's feet shattered into fragments, sending stone splinters flying.
"Y-You've got to be kidding me!" Juka gritted his teeth, his feet having already cracked through the arena floor.
"Hahahaha! I told you I'd snap your neck!" Fran laughed as he looked down at Juka, who was struggling under the weight of his punch. He reached out a massive hand, lunging for Juka's long neck.
In that split second, Juka suddenly released his tension and spun, narrowly pivoting away from Fran's grasping hand.