Sea Calendar Year 1513, July.
East Blue, Goa Kingdom, Windmill Village.
The previously clear skies darkened suddenly as thunder cracked overhead, unleashing another torrent of rain upon the small coastal settlement.
Makino, proprietress of the village's sole tavern, set aside her cleaning cloth and approached the window, gazing anxiously at the downpour. The rainy season had brought precipitation nearly every day, and she worried about Luffy and Ace—two children who might easily catch cold in such weather.
During her last visit to Mt. Colubo and the headquarters of the Dadan Family, Makino had discovered the boys engaged in what they called their "independence" phase. The half-grown children had constructed crude wooden huts outside Dadan's house, insisting on living separately. She wondered if their makeshift shelters would withstand this deluge, and whether the mountain bandits would properly tend to them if they fell ill.
Moreover, if the rains persisted, the village's harvest would inevitably suffer.
The kind-hearted woman looked skyward, instinctively clasping her hands in silent prayer. Another brilliant flash of lightning split the dark clouds, followed by a thunderous rumble that rattled the windows.
Before Makino could marvel at the storm's intensity, something extraordinary caught her attention. During that momentary illumination, she distinctly glimpsed an enormous umbrella-like object suspended in the sky, with what appeared to be a human figure dangling beneath it.
She rushed outside immediately, shielding her eyes from the rain while anxiously scanning the heavens. Another lightning flash confirmed her observation—a person was descending via parachute. What she had seen was no illusion.
Makino recognized the device from newspaper reports. William regularly employed hot air balloons for cartographic and meteorological research, and his personnel occasionally encountered emergencies. The influential figure had established a reward system, publicized throughout East Blue newspapers, promising compensation to any local residents who assisted his stranded technical staff.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the parachute's trajectory, Makino called loudly for assistance. She had already noted with concern that the figure beneath the canopy remained motionless—an ominous sign.
Well-respected within the community, Makino's cries brought villagers running from their homes, initially fearing for her safety. As she jogged toward the parachute's landing site, she explained the situation, and understanding dawned on her neighbors.
Several fleet-footed men, once directed by Makino, sprinted ahead toward the descending figure.
The parachute ultimately splashed down in the coastal waters beyond the village. By the time Makino arrived, breathless from exertion, a crowd had gathered along the shoreline. Floating on the water's surface was a white fabric expanse, occasionally stained with crimson droplets that the sea quickly diluted and washed away. No human head had emerged from beneath the waves.
Among the assembled villagers, voices called out urgently: "Where's the fisherman? We need a boat out there immediately!"
"Someone fetch the doctor!"
Shortly thereafter, the fisherman arrived, equally winded from his hurried journey. Yet rather than rushing to his vessel, he hesitated visibly. "This season is when the Lord of the Near Sea hunts these waters," he warned, gesturing toward the blood traces. "With blood in the water, that monster could appear at any moment..."
Woop Slap, the village elder who had also hastened to the scene, immediately rebuked him: "You fear the Lord of the Near Sea more than Morgan William? That person must be one of his operatives. If William discovers we stood idle while his man drowned, our village will face severe consequences!"
"But isn't Vice Admiral Garp stationed nearby...?" the fisherman muttered reluctantly.
"Garp barely visits once annually! He doesn't even address the mountain bandits on our doorstep! You expect his protection?" Woop Slap rapped his cane against the ground in frustration. "Will you go or not? If you refuse, I'll jump in myself!"
In such treacherous conditions, even younger villagers wouldn't risk entering the water. Allowing an elderly man like Woop Slap to attempt a rescue would be tantamount to sentencing him to death. Recognizing this, the fisherman grudgingly piloted his small craft toward the floating parachute.
The turbulent weather and lurking threat of the notorious sea beast prevented both the fisherman and his assistant from entering the water directly. Upon reaching the landing site, they could only grasp the parachute's edge, attempting to haul its occupant aboard.
Working with practiced efficiency, they soon managed to lift the waterlogged figure partially above the surface. Lightning illuminated a man with severe facial features, eyes firmly closed—whether unconscious or deceased remained unclear.
As they maneuvered him alongside their vessel, the young assistant gasped audibly. They now observed that the man's body was covered with various wounds, some penetrating to the bone. The ghastly sight chilled the rescuers to their core.
"Is he already dead?" the assistant asked anxiously.
"Less talking, more action!" the fisherman barked impatiently.
Just as they prepared to hoist the injured man aboard, catastrophe struck. A massive dark shadow silently surged from the depths, clamping powerful jaws around the suspended figure.
"The Lord of the Near Sea!" both men cried simultaneously, instinctively releasing their grip in terror.
The creature was enormous—its head alone rivaling the fishing boat in size. Rows of interlocking teeth, sharp as blades, sank deeply into the man's torso.
The previously unconscious figure jolted awake from the excruciating pain, his eyes flying open to meet the blood-red gaze of the infamous predator.
Man and beast locked eyes momentarily. Yet where fear might be expected, the human's expression reflected only savage ferocity.
With a primal roar, the man drove his hand directly into one of the creature's eyes. His movement was so swift that the Lord of the Near Sea had no opportunity to react. One eye shattered instantly as the man's arm plunged deep into the orbital cavity.
Blood-drenched and wearing an expression of feral rage, the man wrenched backward, extracting not only the eyeball but surrounding musculature as well.
Howling in agony, the Lord of the Near Sea flung the man from its jaws. That brief moment of eye contact and the devastating injury it had sustained filled the legendary predator with unprecedented fear. It twisted violently and plunged back into the depths, fleeing from what it had previously considered insignificant prey.
The fisherman and his assistant stood transfixed, witnessing a man who had not only survived but effectively repelled the notorious Lord of the Near Sea—his hand still clutching the creature's extracted eyeball.
Quickly recovering from their astonishment, they scrambled to haul the man aboard. This time, no further complications arose.
Once safely on deck, the injured man began violently expelling blood from his mouth. His breathing grew shallow, his complexion deathly pale. Blood continued streaming from numerous wounds onto the wooden planks, yet his hand maintained an iron grip on the parachute pack strapped to his back.
Neither rescuer could loosen his determined grasp. They resorted to cutting the parachute cords with a knife, allowing him to retain the pack.
"Stay awake! Don't die on us!" the young assistant shouted into the man's ear as they navigated shoreward. "What's your name? Are you from the Navia Kingdom?"
"I'm... Harden..." he rasped, eyes widening with desperate effort. "Find... Morgan... Morgan William... Quickly!"
🔥 Want to read the next 20 chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]