"CLANG!"
The piercing sound of clashing metal exploded beside Kyle's ears, making his eardrums ache.
That gleaming blade was forcibly blocked, stopping just inches from his face.
Kyle barely managed to open his eyes, blurred from blood loss and exhaustion, to see the back of a young man wearing a straw hat.
The style and color of that straw hat, along with that familiar profile, instantly flashed a name through his mind.
"A... Ace?" Kyle's whisper was dry and hoarse, filled with disbelief.
How could he be here? The timeline doesn't match!
The straw hat youth didn't turn around, simply giving a light flick of his wrist. A tremendous force was transmitted through his weapon.
The already retreating Black Shark Pirates swordsman felt an irresistible power surge toward him. His grip immediately split open, the long sword flew from his hands with a clatter, and he himself was forced back several steps, his face full of shock.
"Hey, you okay?" The straw hat man finally turned around, grinning widely to reveal a set of perfectly white teeth.
Under the sunlight, his young, angular face was full of confidence and vitality, but his eyes were sharp as a hawk's, as if they could see through to one's soul.
That smile... those eyes...
Kyle's pupils suddenly contracted!
Sorry, sir, I didn't recognize you just now!
No wait! It's not Ace! It's Ace's... dad!
Gol D. Roger! The young "Pirate King"!
An invisible aura quietly emanated from Roger—not an intentional display of power, yet it made all the surrounding fierce-looking pirates shiver as one, as if targeted by some primordial beast. They instinctively stepped back, fear showing in their eyes.
"Who the hell are you?!" The Black Shark Pirates' captain—the burly man wielding an anchor—roared with false bravado. He could sense that this straw hat kid was definitely trouble.
Roger paid him no mind, instead looking with interest at the battered Kyle and the chaotic battlefield behind him: "Incredible, taking down so many pirates single-handedly? Kid, you've got some skills!"
Just then, urgent, orderly footsteps suddenly came from the harbor's outskirts.
"Marines! The Marines are here!"
"It's the G-Branch Marines! Run!"
The surviving pirates cried out in alarm, their already shaky formation instantly becoming even more chaotic.
Masses of uniformed Marine soldiers poured in from all directions, dark gun barrels aimed at the chaos in the harbor's center.
The leading officers bore Lieutenant Colonel insignia, their expressions stern—clearly elite forces from Doug Town's Marine G-Branch.
"All pirates surrender immediately and lay down your weapons! Otherwise, you'll be killed without mercy!" A Marine Lieutenant Colonel shouted loudly, his voice echoing across the harbor.
The Marines' arrival made the already tense situation even more complex. A flash of viciousness crossed the Black Shark Pirates captain's eyes—he knew escaping easily today was impossible.
"Brothers! Let's fight them! Kill these two meddling brats first, then break out!" He roared, swinging his massive anchor toward Roger and Kyle.
The remaining pirates also stirred up a commotion, attempting a desperate final struggle.
"Bring it on! Guhahahaha!" Roger laughed heartily. Facing the incoming anchor and swarming Marine soldiers, his face showed no trace of panic.
His weapon wasn't some famous blade, just an ordinary cutlass, but in his hands it erupted with astonishing power.
"Whoosh!"
The sword flashed—too fast to follow.
The heavy anchor, upon contact with the blade, was sliced clean through like rotten wood, the cut smooth as a mirror!
Next, Roger's figure moved like a phantom through the crowd, each sword swing carrying an overwhelming, dominating force.
The pirates and Marine soldiers charging at the front couldn't even see his movements before being sent flying by fierce sword energy, blood spattering everywhere.
His swordsmanship was bold and direct, appearing simple and straightforward yet containing some indescribable rhythm and power. Each slash seemed capable of splitting mountains and cracking stones.
The adrenaline buff receded like a tide, replaced by endless exhaustion. Kyle leaned against the wall, enduring the intense pain from his rib wound and physical weakness while staring intently at Roger's battle.
So this is... the future Pirate King?
So strong!
That casual dominance in every gesture, that ultimate mastery of power—it was a realm he'd never seen before.
Compared to Roger, his earlier fights against those small-fry pirates were like children playing house.
Every sword swing, every dodge of Roger's was deeply burned into Kyle's memory.
"Is this... Haki?" Kyle murmured to himself.
Though he couldn't accurately describe what it was, he could clearly sense that Roger's attacks contained something beyond mere physical force.
Continuous fighting, blood loss, and prolonged hunger finally pushed Kyle's body to its limit.
Intense dizziness struck like a tide. The scene before him began spinning and blurring. The sounds of Roger's battle, the Marines' shouts, the pirates' screams—all seemed to come from far away, becoming increasingly unreal.
"Damn it... can't... move..." Kyle gritted his teeth, trying to stay conscious, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Just as the Marine soldiers regrouped, squeezing Roger's space tighter and attempting to encircle him, a golden figure suddenly cut into the chaotic battlefield like lightning splitting the night sky!
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Clear sword rings sounded in succession, accompanied by several Marine soldiers' screams.
That figure moved swift as flowing light, the cutlass in his hands dancing out a brilliant golden light curtain. Each flash precisely and elegantly claimed an enemy's life.
His swordsmanship differed from Roger's overwhelming dominance, leaning more toward agility and technique, yet equally deadly.
"Rayleigh!" Roger saw the newcomer and laughed heartily, his offensive becoming even more fierce.
The arrival was none other than the young "Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh! He had shoulder-length golden hair, wore small round glasses, and maintained a calm expression, though his eyes flashed with sharp light.
Rayleigh's arrival instantly changed the battlefield's situation. He and Roger flanked left and right like two unstoppable blades, easily tearing through the Marines' encirclement.
"Really, Roger, you always cause such a commotion," Rayleigh said casually while effortlessly parrying a Marine Lieutenant Colonel's slash, still having energy left to tease.
"Guhahahaha! We were just passing through!" Roger replied carelessly, backhanding several more pirates away.
Kyle's consciousness was already floating on the edge between awareness and unconsciousness. He vaguely saw Rayleigh's figure as his last bit of strength seemed to drain away.
Young Roger... Rayleigh... this is fifty or sixty years before the main storyline!
The remaining Black Shark Pirates had long since been terrified by this sudden turn of events—either casually eliminated by Roger and Rayleigh or dropping their weapons to flee in all directions.
Though the Marine G-Branch soldiers were well-trained, they seemed inadequate facing two future legendary pirates, their casualties continuously mounting.
Roger and Rayleigh positioned themselves front and back, protecting the nearly unconscious Kyle between them, standing back-to-back as they faced enemies pouring in from all directions.
The setting sun's afterglow stretched their three shadows long across the harbor, smoke filling the air with the pungent smell of blood.
This was a chaotic melee, and also the prelude to legend.
An era belonging to the Pirate King seemed to quietly raise its magnificent curtain at this unremarkable harbor in Doug Town, accompanied by an accidentally transmigrated soul.
Kyle's eyelids finally closed completely, his last consciousness freezing on Roger's hearty laughter and the light gleaming from Rayleigh's sword edge.