Roy walked up to the helm and quickly realized—
He had no idea how to steer a sailing ship.
"Turn left to go left? Is it that simple?"
Not for someone who had failed his driving test back home.
He struggled with the wheel for a while and still couldn't figure it out.
"This is too hard!"
In the end, Roy gave up and let the ship drift freely.
Unlike the Grand Line, the four seas didn't have erratic weather patterns, and after three years of surviving on a remote island, Roy was confident he could handle any sudden storm—or even Sea Kings.
---
A Few Days Later…
Roy's ship drifted into a new sea region and entered the waters near an island.
He spotted several fishing boats in the distance.
By following the recent drift and checking his map, he determined the place was:
Flevance—the "White Town," a country known for its pure, fairy tale-like beauty.
"Hey, hey, look at that ship…"
"It's a pirate ship!"
A three-masted vessel slowly approached the dock.
Locals who saw its unknown pirate flag quickly raised the alarm.
No matter the era, aside from the Navy, pirates were always the most feared figures among civilians.
One fishing boat after another confirmed the flag—it was the emblem of the Fiers Pirates.
"Booth, you fat pig! Move your damn butt! You're sitting on the transponder snail box!"
An old fisherman shoved aside his hefty apprentice and yanked open the box.
Without hesitation, he dialed the Navy.
"Moshi moshi? Navy? Oh thank the heavens—you answered! We just spotted a pirate ship near the western docks. I swear on my life, I've never seen a pirate ship this huge. At its current speed, it'll be at the port within half an hour!"
"Any identifying marks on the ship?"
The Navy officer on the other end sounded excited.
The old fisherman slapped Booth upside the head.
"Use those beady eyes of yours! Look at that flag—what's on it!?"
"Skull! Crossed swords behind it! And there's… a black bear paw print beneath the skull!" Booth blurted out, fearing another smack.
Crossed swords and a bear paw?
The Navy operator's eyes widened.
He immediately thought of a notorious North Blue pirate:
Martney Fiers—a Zoan-type Devil Fruit user, Bear-Bear Fruit, Model: Black Bear.
A pirate with one of the highest bounties in the North Blue, feared by all regional Navy branches.
"Alert the troops immediately. Notify Major Assal—this is serious!"
The call ended abruptly. He issued the orders without delay. This was not something he could afford to treat lightly.
The name Fiers sent a jolt through the once lethargic base.
Suddenly, the garrison was wide awake—battle was coming.
---
15 Minutes Later…
Over 200 Marines assembled along the western coast of Flevance.
Artillery units wheeled out over a dozen cannons at the harbor's edge.
Five minutes later, a three-masted pirate ship appeared on the horizon.
"That's the one… it's definitely Fiers."
Major Assal brushed the scar running from his left eye to his jaw.
"He's the one who ran back to the North Blue after being crushed by Gol D. Roger in the Grand Line."
He straightened up and raised his hand.
"Listen up, brats! Pull up your pants and wake the hell up—we're about to engage. Once the ship enters firing range, open fire immediately!"
—
Five Minutes Later…
The pirate ship entered the kill zone.
"Fire!!" Major Assal roared.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!
All fifteen cannons erupted in flame.
This era's Navy didn't yet have Vegapunk's advanced tech—the cannonballs were solid iron, not explosives.
A volley of black iron balls screamed through the air toward the pirate ship.
"Under attack?"
Roy blinked as he was adjusting the sails.
"Eh, whatever. Just a little annoying."
He stepped to the bow, where over a dozen cannonballs were barreling straight at him.
Roy exhaled—and a brilliant golden aura surged from his body.
"Holy Light Barrier!"
A golden shield instantly enveloped the ship.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The cannonballs exploded against the shield, but it held for a moment—before finally shattering into shimmering golden fragments and dispersing into the wind.
Major Assal wasn't surprised.
"Expected. No way a pirate with a 30-million bounty goes down to a few cannonballs. If he did, he'd be a fake."
But the ship suddenly accelerated—
At this distance, they could no longer use cannons safely due to recoil.
Assal stepped back and shouted:
"Riflemen, prepare!"
A squad of infantry carrying one-meter-long flintlock rifles stepped forward, took a knee, and aimed at the ship.
The moment a silhouette appeared on the deck—
Bang!
"Bullseye! Headshot!"
One Marine shouted in excitement, seeing the pirate's head explode in a puff of blood.
"He's not dead," Assal said flatly.
All eyes turned.
The "dead" pirate's body was still standing.
His head, which had been blasted backward, slowly rose back up.
And then…
A teenage boy—no more than fifteen or sixteen—was revealed.
He was biting down on the black bullet between his teeth.
With a casual flick of his head, he spit it out.
"Is this for real? Why do these guys always aim for the head?"
Roy sighed.
"If they'd aimed literally anywhere else, I wouldn't even have needed to dodge. One Holy Shock and I'd be fine."
Major Assal's face darkened.
"Who is this boy? What's his relationship to Fiers?"
As a high-ranking officer, Assal had long kept tabs on Fiers' entire crew.
He knew every one of them by face and name.
The pirate crew had never exceeded 20 members.
But this boy?
He wasn't in any of the intelligence reports.
"Was he recently recruited? Or worse…"
"Did he… wipe out Fiers' entire crew?"
The idea was absurd.
Assal refused to believe that this small, unassuming teenager had killed Fiers.
Sure, the sea had its share of prodigies…
But he'd never actually met one in person.
Until today.
—
"They're Marines, huh?"
Roy looked down at the white uniforms and blue neckties.
Yup. No mistaking them.
There were only two types of people in these seas: Pirates and Marines.
"They think I'm a pirate? What a joke."
Roy casually picked up a severed head and tossed it down.
The head rolled twice and landed at Major Assal's feet.
Then came a second.
Then a third…
Fifteen in total.
After killing Fiers, several pirates had jumped overboard and fled—mostly cooks, medics, and other non-combatants.
Roy didn't bother with them. They weren't worth the effort.
"These are…"
Assal bent down to inspect the heads.
The weather had cooled—early autumn—which kept the heads from decaying too quickly.
He could still recognize the faces, even if the stench was unbearable.
"This one—this is Martney Fiers!" his adjutant shouted in shock.