Hernandez Solan had once been a world-renowned pirate.
Until the day his leg was shattered.
He had become a pirate around the same time as Magnus—Magnus at thirty, Hernandez in his twenties.
By the time he was forty, Hernandez had built his underground network into an iron fortress.
Then he ran into Magnus.
And Magnus tore his empire out by the roots.
Back then, Hernandez had a bounty of 200 million. Facing Magnus, who also carried a bounty over 200 million, he expected a battle between equals.
But he couldn't last even ten rounds against Magnus at his peak, and ended up losing a leg.
If their fight hadn't taken place on Sabaody, where a Marine Admiral rushed over almost instantly, Magnus would've taken not just his leg, but his life.
Later, captured by that same Admiral, Hernandez thought it was over—that he'd spend the rest of his life rotting in Impel Down.
But fate wasn't done with him. The bribes he had paid the World Government over the years to ensure smooth auctions ended up saving him.
He was pulled back out.
The price? A new name, never again able to call himself Hernandez Solan, and the need to lean forever on a cane.
But to him, this was a blessing in disguise.
He was "washed clean," sheltered by the World Government.
Meanwhile, the White Wolf Pirates—no matter how high they rose—were still just pirates, still like rats in the sewers, always hunted by Marines and the Government.
For this, Hernandez had once mocked Magnus.
Until two years ago—when Magnus, leading the White Wolf Pirates on Sphinx, fought two Admirals to a one-for-zero result, then faced three of the Navy's top fighters on Elbaf and still walked away intact.
White Wolf Magnus had become White King Magnus.
And he? He was still just the crippled auction master.
Time was cruel.
His once-mighty body had bloated and softened, his black tailcoat barely containing his round gut. He looked less like a gentleman and more like a ridiculous fat penguin.
As for his strength, it was a shadow of what it once was—not even a tenth remained.
Forget the Magnus of today—
Even the Magnus of the past could crush him without effort.
But what did that matter?
He wasn't a pirate anymore, clawing with his own hands for survival.
He had a backing. He had a patron.
"White Wolf Magnus, what are you here for?"
Puffing out his belly, Hernandez bellowed, "And I don't know any Hernandez! My name is Nicholaus, and I am the head of this auction! I warn you, a noble Celestial Dragon is inside. If you dare cause trouble, the Admirals will come!"
Yes—there was a Celestial Dragon inside. Surely they wouldn't want to share air with a savage pirate like Magnus? They'd probably already called for Marine reinforcements.
Even Magnus wouldn't dare touch a Celestial Dragon, right?
Humph. Even if you are White Wolf Magnus—
"Hmm?"
Magnus hadn't even used Haki, only let out a questioning grunt. Yet Hernandez's leg buckled, and in front of the crowd, he collapsed onto his knees.
But wasn't that natural? He only had one good leg left, after all.
Magnus killing a Celestial Dragon? Impossible.
But killing Hernandez? That was no harder than stepping on a dog. Would the Navy hunt Magnus to the ends of the world over that?
Gone was the pride of his younger days. Survival was all that mattered. Feeling Magnus's displeasure, Hernandez threw away all dignity, kneeling as if the crowd's contemptuous stares didn't exist.
He quickly shifted his tone.
"It's a rule not to fight inside the auction, and I know Captain Magnus wouldn't trouble someone like me. As for entering the hall—of course, no problem at all. I'll personally lead you inside!"
Hands clasped, smile plastered, Hernandez bent low.
As for being punished later by the Celestial Dragon? That wasn't his problem.
As soon as this passed, he'd run.
He had enough money now to live out a quiet, indulgent retirement.
"Magnus-san?"
Hearing Hernandez suddenly refer to him so politely, Toki frowned, visibly displeased, instinctively shifting how she addressed him.
Magnus only chuckled.
"Don't mind him, Toki. He's just a man who lost all his ideals. Don't pity him either—after all the things he's done, hanging him ten times wouldn't be enough."
Forced prostitution and human trafficking were the least of it.
Hernandez had even destroyed entire countries for profit, reducing queens to slaves.
And if the nation was a World Government member?
So what. Once a country fell and could no longer pay the Heavenly Tribute, it reverted to non-member status anyway.
Slavery was illegal—
But only for citizens of World Government nations.
Non-member civilians had no human rights.
Pirates had none either.
Even in member nations, slavery still happened—just with more trouble to cover it up.
Magnus gave Hernandez no more thought.
Had Hernandez known what Magnus intended to do next, he would have tried everything to stop him from entering the hall. But the world held no "what if."
Magnus entered without much fanfare.
The main doors had closed once the auction began, but amid the bustling atmosphere, few noticed him slip in.
And those who did—pretended not to.
Such as the black-suited CP agents currently guarding the Celestial Dragon.
"W-White King Magnus!?"
"Why would he be here!?"
"Hurry! Notify Marine Headquarters! They must send an Admiral!"
"..."
Their pupils shrank in terror.
Even if they weren't CP0, they were still trained agents.
White King Magnus—bounty 600 million. The only pirate of this era honored with the title "King." Not "Pirate King," but enough to prove his power.
If Magnus decided to act, there was nothing they could do.
Much less protect their master.
That master sat on a luxurious chair, glass bubble helmet on his head—the Celestial Dragon attending this auction.
Saint Rosward.
Among the Celestial Dragons, males bore the suffix "Saint," females "Palace."
Though a World Noble, Rosward had no strength at all.
Even as his guards sensed Magnus, Rosward remained utterly unaware.
"A bunch of trash. Not a single good product?"
The blond youth tugged a chained slave girl close, pawing her casually.
Even when his rough grip hurt her, she forced a flattering smile, terrified of ending up like her sister—executed on a whim.
"This auction has nothing worthwhile."
Sweating from Magnus's presence, one CP agent tried to suggest, "Perhaps… we should attend the next—"
Bang!
Before he could finish, his skull burst with a hole.
"Humph."
Rosward casually blew smoke from his pistol, expression annoyed, as if he had swatted a fly.
"Mere humans daring to order me? It's for me to decide whether there are good products—not you!"
The other CP agents fell silent, petrified. They knew Magnus was here—but telling Rosward?
No.
With Rosward's arrogance, he would offend Magnus in seconds.
And they had no illusion Magnus would show mercy to them.
"..."
"Next is No.5! Please welcome our next item!"
In the VIP seats, Magnus sipped his bubble wine, calmly watching as slaves were paraded out, collars on their necks, sold like goods.
Rosward didn't bid.
Naturally, neither did Magnus.
He wasn't here to play buyer.
He was here to liberate every slave under Celestial Dragon chains—including those in Sabaody right now.
Before setting foot on the island, Magnus had already coordinated with Rona.
He would tie down the Navy's fighting power.
She would sow chaos in Mariejois, freeing slaves there.
Magnus wouldn't rush to the Holy Land first.
Not without neutralizing Marine Headquarters' might—otherwise, the Government would surround them like a net.
Even counting Rona, they only had two Admiral-level fighters.
And the Government surely had more hidden strength than anyone imagined.
Only if Magnus drew the Admirals away could Rona move freely.
He trusted her. After so many years in the Navy, she must have built her own loyal faction. Even if only a few defected, it would shake the Navy to its core.
A retired Admiral would one day do the same—but with reasons more predictable.
Rona was different.
With no purpose left in life, she had simply decided to act.
And once she decided, she acted without warning.
Not even the current Fleet Admiral Kong could have foreseen her throwing such chaos at him.
"By now, the Admirals must already be on their way, right?"
Magnus smiled faintly.
All his life, it had always been him alone, facing the Navy and Government's power.
When had he ever fought with such luxury?
Rocks and the others had grown. They still couldn't stand toe-to-toe with Admirals, but at least they wouldn't be instantly crushed by the shockwaves.
Admiral Scarlet Snake was a turncoat. She alone could stall Kong for days.
The two Giant Pirate captains together could pin down a normal Admiral.
And with former Admiral Sebas dead—
If Magnus could stall two Admirals himself, then between gains and losses, the Government's top forces were already stretched thin.
Among current Vice Admirals, was there one who could overwhelm Rocks and the others?
Not a single one.
Since Rona and Kong's promotions, the Navy hadn't even named new Admiral candidates. Not because they didn't want to—but because they couldn't.
To even qualify, one needed the strength of a 200-million pirate. The only Vice Admiral who did, died during the Elbaf campaign.
The Navy's greatest loss of that war.
And so, the Navy was left in an awkward generation gap.
Of course, it didn't matter.
New blood would soon rise. From among them would emerge a future Fleet Admiral, a future Navy hero, a future Chief of Staff.
It would take time.
But with Kong and Rona's ages, retirement was at least twenty years away.
Plenty of time.
"Next is No.9! A female pirate from the Melvin Pirates, a nameless rookie whose crew was annihilated the moment she set sail—Tsuru!"
Pffft!
Magnus spat out his wine.
Staring in disbelief at the center stage, where a girl with a deep-blue ponytail, shackled at neck and wrists, stood defiant. Her delicate face showed hatred, her figure young yet already refined.
What the hell, Marines?
Why was the Navy's future Chief of Staff here as a pirate slave!?
Chair. Computer. Shrimp.jpg.
Was this some butterfly effect from his transmigration?
It wasn't impossible.
Before, Magnus had only caused small ripples. But the battles on Sphinx and Elbaf had hurled him directly against the Government.
He'd been here over seventy years.
So many futures had already shifted because of him. Was one more really surprising?
Still—it felt wrong.
[Year 1483 of the Sea Calendar. On Sabaody Archipelago, you encounter Tsuru, newly promoted to Vice Admiral. Her mature, alluring body captivates you. You swear you will make her yours!]
System, shut the hell up!
Yes, Magnus admitted that the moment he saw Tsuru, the thought of recruiting her sparked in his mind.
But it had nothing to do with her maturity.
She was the Navy's future Chief of Staff. Their brain.
And what did the White Wolf Pirates lack most right now?
Not strength.
Brains.
With Tsuru, they wouldn't need him to shoulder every strategy alone. Someone could finally help him think, discuss, plan.
Of course, Magnus still considered the possibility she was an undercover plant.
But so what?
How long had she even been in the Navy? What could they give her that he couldn't match—or outdo?
Dreams? Aspirations? He could give those too.
Just like freeing slaves—
He could do it. He dared to do it. Could the Navy?
Whatever they dared, he dared. Whatever they didn't dare, he dared more.
Because he was a pirate.
He was free.
As for how to bring Tsuru in—he'd work that out.
But before he could think further, someone else made the first move.
"Ten million Berries!"
Rosward's arrogant voice rang through the auction hall.
"I'll take this woman!"
(End of Chapter)
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