Ace remained frozen for a moment, staring at the direction where the old man had vanished, his heart pounding violently in his chest. The crowd around him moved like restless waves, yet something strange began to unfold before his eyes.
With every step he took among the people, faces tightened. Whispers spread like wildfire, eyes followed him with a mix of coldness and fear, and shoulders shifted aside as if the entire city sought only to avoid his shadow. It wasn't screaming or banishment, but something far harsher… a silent isolation.
A woman selling bread snatched her daughter away as if even the touch of his shadow might curse her. An old man slammed his iron window shut so abruptly it rattled. Even the children stopped playing for a moment before scattering in every direction, leaving behind a small wooden ball that rolled to his feet.
He kicked it away in anger, muttering in a trembling voice:
"Why is it always me?! Why do they treat me like a monster?!"
The harder he tried to find an answer, the more merciless the silence became. The streets were packed with people, yet he felt as if he were walking through a deserted city—everyone keeping their distance as though he carried some invisible plague.
Then, from afar, he caught sight of the same old man who had fled, hiding behind the shadow of a stone pillar at the edge of the market. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met again… but the old man stepped back, then melted into the crowd once more.
Something inside Ace began to crack then—a mixture of anger, confusion, and betrayal. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he shouted into the heart of the city that had ignored him entirely:
"Answer me! Why is it always me?!"
But the only reply was the trembling echo of his own voice bouncing between the towering stone walls.
His breath grew ragged as he pushed his way through the narrow alleys, hemmed in by hanging cloths and the stench of dried fish mingled with coal and smoke. The cries of vendors still rang out, but each time he passed by, their voices faltered for a heartbeat, only to return sharper—like his presence was nothing more than an unwelcome shadow.
It was clear that this world rejected him too, just as it had been in the world of One Piece. He no longer cared. He was used to this feeling—the silent rejection, the repulsion that followed him wherever he went. It was a familiar face, repeating itself once again. But this time he didn't resist. He didn't scream, didn't try to prove his innocence. Instead, he allowed himself a small, bitter smile—a smile that declared he had surrendered to whatever fate had written for him.
He passed by a noisy tavern, hearing muffled laughter die down as soon as eyes turned his way. He quickened his pace, walking with sharp steps through the dense crowds of the grand market. Each time his shoulder brushed against another's, they recoiled as if scalded. He didn't bother to apologize… he no longer cared.
"All I need now is to get out… to get out before I lose my mind." he muttered inwardly, clinging to the single thought that kept him steady: to stay away from their eyes.
The alleys began to open onto a wider path leading to the city's edge—where the noise faded, and where those piercing stares that cut into his chest like knives finally thinned. With each step away, he felt a weight pulling out of him, though it never left completely… lingering like an old wound that refused to heal.
It wasn't long before he reached the city's boundary, where the buildings ended abruptly, as if construction itself had halted, leaving behind barren land stretching endlessly. Fine dust lifted with each gust of wind, and the emptiness ahead was as terrifying as it was strangely comforting. The only sound was his heartbeat and the ragged rhythm of his breath after the long run.
He kept walking along the stone road that stretched in a straight line into the unknown, until he stopped at its end. And there… he froze.
Before him rose a barrier. Not a rocky wall, nor an iron fence, but an enormous transparent dome, like the frozen surface of water touching the sky. Strange colors rippled within it—violet-blue and silvery-gray—swallowing the light around it. It extended endlessly, a half-circle enclosing the city, its edges buried in the ground at his feet.
He drew closer, reaching out cautiously. The barrier appeared still, yet it pulsed with hidden vibrations, as though even the air itself rejected him. Just a few steps away from touching it, he felt a faint heat against his skin, an anxious energy thrumming in the space.
In that moment, he realized—the city was trapped, imprisoned within a colossal glass cage. Not protection, but confinement, cutting it off from anything beyond… from the entire world.
He stepped back, eyes widening at the sight, as a voice whispered inside him:
"Where will you go now… if there's no world beyond this barrier?"
He leaned closer, glaring at the dome with defiance, his eyes blazing with the desperate urge to escape, as though the outside world itself were calling to him. Slowly, he stretched out his hand, then shoved it forward with all his strength—but the moment it touched the transparent surface, he was thrown backward, staggering.
He growled in frustration:
—This can't be another prison!
He charged again, slamming his shoulder, his whole body against it, striking and shouting, but the result was the same. The very air felt like solid stone, holding him back, while the horizon mocked him—open and boundless, yet forever out of reach.
He looked around for anything—a rock, a piece of wood, even a handful of dust. He hurled them with all his might at the barrier. To his astonishment, they passed straight through, slipping into the outside world as if no wall existed. His eyes widened, and he seized a larger stone, smashing it hard—yet it too sailed through unhindered.
He stumbled back, breath quickening, and once more extended his hand—only for it to collide cruelly against the barrier, stopped as though by a wall of steel. Heat radiated from its surface, a biting energy coursing through his veins, barring him from passage.
He screamed, his voice shaking the silence around him:
—Why is this happening to me?! Why always me?!
He beat the barrier with his fists until his skin scraped raw and his hands burned red. Again and again he watched small objects pass freely, while his body was denied—as if he were an intruder with no place here. Anger tangled with despair, and a suffocating weight pressed down on his chest.
At last, he stood panting, sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes blazing with restless fire. But deep within, that bitter realization crept in…
That no matter how hard he tried, this place would never let him leave.