"Has Sengoku… lost his mind?"
Rayleigh's voice was low, like a growl rising from the depths of hell.
Every word seemed to carry the weight of a thousand tons.
The newspaper groaned under his tightly clenched hands. The pages crumpled, creases spreading across the paper as the edges curled slightly inward.
Hearing the commotion, Shakky quickly came out of the bar.
A lit cigarette still hung between her lips, thin wisps of smoke curling around her cheek.
But the moment her eyes landed on the contents of the newspaper, her entire body froze. The color drained from her face in an instant.
Before she could even react, the cigarette slipped from her mouth and fell to the ground, stirring up a small puff of dust.
"This is… the start of all-out war," she murmured, her voice filled with disbelief and worry.
Rayleigh followed her gaze toward the Marine branch in the distance.
There, a signal flag representing the highest state of alert was fluttering in the wind.
Its vivid color stood out sharply beneath the blue sky and white clouds.
The harbor was a scene of frantic activity. Warships sat in the water like beasts ready to pounce, undergoing their final preparations.
Every cannon was aimed toward the open sea. The dark muzzles looked like gaping mouths, ready to devour any enemy that dared approach.
Rayleigh knew this kind of formation far too well.
Memories surged up in his mind like a rising tide.
The last time he had seen a scene like this was on the eve of that earth-shaking battle at God Valley.
Back then, flames of war had filled the sky, smoke had covered the sea, and the entire world had been wrapped in a tense, suffocating atmosphere.
"Roger…"
Rayleigh softly murmured the name of his old captain, his voice filled with endless remembrance and worry.
He lifted his head and looked toward the sky, his gaze deep and unfocused, as if it had crossed through time and returned to that era of passion and blood.
'The Rampaging Era… has it finally arrived?'
An invisible pressure settled heavily on his shoulders.
...
North Blue.
A coastal tavern on a remote island.
At that moment, a greasy whale-oil lamp hung from a thick wooden beam. It kept swaying with the sea breeze and the movement of the people inside.
The dim, flickering firelight cast the shadows of the pirates lost in revelry clearly against the mottled walls.
Those walls had been eroded by sea wind and worn by the passing years.
They were covered in cracks and stains of varying depths, like an old history book recording countless tales of adventure.
The moment one stepped into the tavern, a rich scent mixed with the mellow aroma of ale and the charred fragrance of roasted meat rushed forward.
The smell filled the entire space, making mouths water.
This place was the stronghold of the "Iron Hook" Pirates.
The crew members were flushed, their eyes shining with excitement.
They raised large oak mugs high into the air, shouting at the top of their lungs as they celebrated the three precious crates of rum they had just successfully plundered.
"To our fearless captain!"
A burly man was the first to stand.
He raised his mug high, his voice booming like thunder, filled with admiration and devotion toward their captain.
The surrounding crew members immediately echoed him, lifting their mugs as they shouted in unison.
"To hell with the Marines!"
Another sailor with a thick beard spat through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with disdain and hatred for the Marines.
His words immediately triggered a round of roaring laughter and cheers, as if everyone were venting their resentment toward the Marines at once.
"Hahaha! Now this is the life of a pirate!"
Someone laughed heartily, fully enjoying the freedom and indulgence of the moment.
To them, this unrestrained, thrilling life was the one that truly belonged to them.
"Once we save up enough money, we'll get ourselves a Devil Fruit to try!"
A younger crew member's eyes shone with longing, already imagining what it would be like to gain a wondrous power after eating a Devil Fruit.
"That's right! We can become ability users too!"
The other crew members nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with desire and anticipation, as though they could already see the glorious future awaiting them once they possessed extraordinary abilities.
"..."
Inside the tavern, thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat, the heavily bearded captain, "Iron Hook" Jesu, was holding up his own wanted poster with an imposing air.
The paper of the wanted poster was already somewhat old, its corners slightly curled.
Printed prominently on it was the staggering bounty of 32 million berries.
At that moment, one corner of the number had been soaked by spilled liquor. The ink blurred faintly in the damp spot, as if foreshadowing something ominous.
Captain Jesu straightened his patched yet still domineering coat and cleared his throat, preparing to begin what must have been his countless passionate speech boasting of his glorious achievements.
But at that critical instant, the heavy door of the tavern was suddenly blown open by a roaring sea breeze.
With a loud bang, cold wind swept in, carrying with it the chill and tension of the outside world, flooding the lively space all at once.
"Extra! Marine Kill Order!"
A young, trembling voice suddenly rang out, piercing through the noise of the tavern like a sharp arrow.
Then the voice rose even higher.
"All pirates are to be killed without exception!"
Another shout followed, as if trying to carve that cruel order into everyone's bones.
"No surrender will be accepted!"
The newspaper boy's small body shivered at the doorway.
He clutched a freshly printed newspaper tightly in both hands, his eyes wide with fear and unease.
His voice was like a basin of freezing water poured without warning over everyone present.
In an instant, the tavern that had been filled with laughter, shouting, arguments, and noise fell into deathly silence as if under a spell.
Only the burning firewood in the hearth continued to crackle tirelessly.
The dancing flames reflected the different expressions on everyone's faces: fear, confusion, and deep contemplation.
At some point, Captain Jesu's hand began to tremble violently beyond his control, as if he had caught a fever.
The crumpled wanted poster in his hand rustled along with it, whispering of the terror in his heart.
His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at the bloody announcement printed in the newspaper.
Every word was like a heavy hammer pounding against his heart.
From this day onward, all pirates encountered at sea are to be executed on the spot. Surrender will not be accepted. — Marine Headquarters