Holy Land, Mariejois.
The Walton Family Mansion.
"My lord, all the gold exchanged this time is here."
In a clean, brightly lit secret chamber, several CP0 operatives in pristine white suits and animal masks stood in silence.
Their leader bent respectfully before a young man seated ahead of them, his voice trembling slightly with reverence as he gave his report.
The young man looked no older than seventeen or eighteen. His face still carried a trace of youthful softness, yet his presence was overwhelming.
He stood tall—well over two and a half meters—with a lean but powerful frame that exuded quiet dominance.
Compared to the average Celestial Dragon, whose arrogance often hid behind grotesque masks and excessive ornamentation, this one was strikingly different.
He had sharp, sword-like eyebrows and eyes that gleamed like distant stars. His face was sculpted like jade—handsome, refined, yet carrying a natural majesty that made others instinctively lower their gaze.
Every breath he took seemed to ripple with an innate, noble pressure—so heavy that even the CP0 agents dared not breathe too loudly.
For the youth before them was no ordinary Celestial Dragon.
He was Saint Ross Walton, heir of the Walton Family—one of the original nineteen royal families who founded the World Government.
The sole heir of the Walton lineage.
The next in line to become one of the Five Elders.
A man destined to wield power over nations.
….
"Good work," Ross said faintly, his tone calm but filled with effortless authority. "You may leave."
The CP0 leader bowed again, and with silent precision, all agents withdrew from the room.
Left alone, Ross turned his gaze to the dazzling scene before him—a mountain of gold, gleaming like sunlight frozen in solid form.
Its weight exceeded nine hundred tons, piled high and radiant enough to illuminate the entire chamber.
A small, satisfied smile touched his lips.
"As expected," he murmured, "this should be enough."
These were not ordinary subordinates. They were members of his personal CP0 branch, men and women raised from birth to serve only him by the Walton Family. Ross never feared betrayal from them—nor did he need to.
Their loyalty was absolute.
And today… even if the entire world learned his secret, it wouldn't matter.
He lifted his hand, his eyes narrowing as a glint of anticipation crossed them.
'System, add points.'
The moment the thought echoed in his mind, the golden mountain began to shrink—melting away at a speed visible to the naked eye.
At the same time, a surge of unimaginable power burst within his body.
It spread through his veins, his muscles, his very bones—like molten fire coursing through steel, reforging his being.
He could feel every part of himself strengthening—his speed, his perception, his reflexes—every aspect of his body and mind ascending rapidly.
His power level, once at SS+, began to climb.
SSS–.
Then, as more gold dissolved into shimmering dust and vanished into him—thirty percent, then half, then more—his strength continued to soar.
Finally, when the last shimmering fragments of gold faded completely, the system's invisible counter jumped one last time.
SSS.
BOOM!
A thunderous shockwave erupted from his body.
Conqueror's Haki—vast, wild, and domineering—burst forth like a living storm.
The entire mansion trembled. The marble floor cracked beneath his feet.
The very air around him warped under the pressure.
For a brief moment, Ross felt as if he could split the heavens themselves.
His senses expanded—his mind sharp, his will absolute.
He could almost see it: the Red Line, stretching for ten thousand meters… and the terrifying certainty that he could cleave it in two if he wished.
He smiled faintly, eyes glinting with a golden hue.
"The beginning," he whispered, his voice low yet echoing through the silent chamber, "of a new world."
.....
A steamy haze drifted across the air of a spacious, opulent bathing chamber, its walls glimmering with faint golden light reflected off steaming pools of clear, fragrant water.
The place was vast—as large as three football fields—and filled with the faint sound of laughter, splashing, and soft moans.
More than twenty petite, youthful, and breathtakingly beautiful maids, each dressed in revealing black-and-white uniforms that barely covered their supple skin, were gathered around the central pool.
Their attire left little to the imagination—snowy thighs, smooth shoulders, and delicate curves glistened under the misty light.
They surrounded the man reclining in the steaming pool, serving him with bright smiles and flushed faces.
"Uuumm…"
Ross exhaled softly, lying lazily against the edge of the hot pool, his body relaxed, his expression one of deep, unrestrained pleasure.
Like a king surrounded by angels, he allowed the maids to wash and rub him—not with sponges or cloths, but with their own bare skin and soft breasts, their slippery bodies pressing against him as they cleaned every inch of his form.
The air was thick with heat, scent, and the soft rhythm of skin against skin.
Splash…
Through the swirling mist, a shadow appeared.
A tall, voluptuous woman walked toward him with languid grace—each step deliberate, sensual, dripping with confidence.
Her long black hair clung to her glistening skin, and the curve of her hips swayed like waves on a tranquil sea.
Even the maids paused, their gazes drawn to her.
"Your Highness," she purred, her voice low and sweet, "allow me to serve you…"
Without hesitation, Boa Hancock began undressing, her movements slow and seductive, as if no one else existed in the world.
Her flawless, sun-kissed, perfect body gleamed under the rising steam.
Then, with a ripple of water, she slipped gracefully into the pool—and into Ross's arms.
"You're awake…" Ross murmured, opening his eyes and gazing down at the beauty pressed against his chest. A faint, teasing smile curved his lips.
Hancock's eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, her face flushed pink. "I hate it," she whispered coyly, pouting as her delicate fingers traced the line of his chest. "Your Highness nearly ruined me last night with that endless… pounding."
Her complaint melted into a shy giggle as her cheeks reddened further.
Ross chuckled softly, his hand gliding across her smooth back, fingertips brushing over skin that felt as soft as silk. He admired her every curve—the proud Pirate Empress who now clung to him like a gentle lover.
In the outside world, Boa Hancock was the embodiment of arrogance and pride—the cold, untouchable Shichibukai feared and revered across the seas.
But here, in his arms, she was only his woman—docile, tender, completely molded by him inside and out.
Ross's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he studied her.
Every part of her—her beauty, her loyalty, her heart—belongs to me now.
With foresight from another life and the divine privilege of being a Celestial Dragon, he had claimed the most beautiful woman in the world long before anyone else could.
He remembered it clearly—when he was thirteen, it was the first time he had taken her, the night she became his completely.
Her body, her innocence, her first everything… all belonged to him.
Yes—Ross was not of this world.
He was a traveler between lifetimes.
Though technically born into this one, his memories from his previous life had been sealed deep within his mind—buried until tragedy unearthed them.
Eight years ago, after the sudden death of his parents, grief had shattered the final seal. His past life came flooding back—along with something else.
His cheat ability.
The Krypton Gold System.
As its name implied, it allowed him to grow stronger by offering up gold—transforming wealth directly into power.
Every ounce of gold he consumed increased his might—his strength, speed, physique, Conqueror's Haki, swordsmanship, marksmanship, even the Marine's famed Six Styles.
With such a system—and his boundless access to treasure as a Celestial Dragon—Ross's growth became unstoppable.
In only eight years, he had risen from a pampered, powerless noble who could barely hold a sword…
…to a superhuman master—a being with the body of an Admiral, the skill of a Great Swordsman, and the Conqueror's Haki of the highest tier.
He had become something far beyond ordinary men—a god in human skin.
Even three years ago.
As he displayed his Conqueror's Haki, Ross was immediately recognized as a potential candidate for the position of the next Five Elder.
There was, after all, no other choice.
The Celestial Dragons—those once-divine rulers of the world—were slowly dying out.
By the decree of the World Government, only children born from two Celestial Dragon parents could inherit that sacred status.
Any child born from a slave, or from an outsider, was deemed impure and stripped of nobility.
This policy, enforced for over eight centuries, had led to something grotesque: endless intermarriage among the nineteen royal families.
Eight hundred years of inbreeding had taken its toll.
The bloodline once proclaimed "divine" had grown thin and frail. Many of the children born in Mariejois were deformed, sickly, or mentally stunted.
One only had to recall the Celestial Dragons seen in the pages of history and the world's reports—arrogant, foolish beings who relied entirely on guards and slaves to protect them—to understand just how far the so-called "gods" had fallen.
Among them, those born with sound minds or healthy bodies were rare exceptions.
And yet, the promise of eternal privilege—the right to rule and live above all—was too intoxicating.
Generation after generation, the Celestial Dragons sank deeper into decadence, losing every trace of ambition. They became creatures of indulgence, living only to drown themselves in luxury, their willpower long eroded by centuries of comfort.
Within such decay, no capable successor remained.
That was, until Ross Walton appeared.
The day his Conqueror's Haki erupted, shaking the very foundations of the Holy Land, the Five Elders and the entire Celestial Dragon hierarchy took notice.
A prodigy—born of pure blood, yet strong enough to dominate seas.
He was immediately named the primary candidate to succeed one of the Five Elders, waiting only for an elder to retire into what they called "Icehouse Dormancy"—a euphemism for eternal cryogenic slumber.
When that day arrived, Ross would officially ascend as one of the Five Elders, wielding authority over the World Government, standing at the summit of the world, with power over life and death itself.
But Ross… had no interest in serving beneath anyone.
Becoming a Five Elder was not his goal.
Serving as a dog under Lord Im was beneath him.
He had revealed his power not for glory, but for leverage—
—to increase the annual tribute of Heavenly Gold he received, to strengthen his base, and to gather the resources he needed for what truly mattered.
His ambition reached beyond the Five Elders.
Beyond Im.
Beyond even the legends of the ancient Joy Boy.
'When the time comes,' he thought coldly, 'their ashes will scatter across the sea.'
And when the world's gods and kings lay broken at his feet, he would ascend the Void Throne, the seat none had dared claim openly for eight hundred years—
And build his own immortal dynasty upon the ruins of their.
…..
Ross's thoughts blurred into the rhythm of his breathing, his hands moving on their own as if guided by instinct.
His fingers sank into the soft, yielding warmth of Hancock's breasts before gliding down to the curve of her ass, molding and exploring with a slow, deliberate hunger.
Before he knew it, his touch had mapped every inch of her body. Her skin shimmered faintly in the water, flushed with a delicate pink glow that deepened wherever his hands lingered.
"Umm"
Hancock arched into his touch, her breath trembling against his chest as she rubbed against him like a restless kitten — needy, wild, and unbearably soft.
The sight drew a low breath from Ross. His desire pulsed, raw and unrestrained, and he couldn't help but run his fingers through her damp hair, giving her a tender pat that carried both affection and command.
Hancock looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips parting slightly in silent understanding.
Then, with a languid, liquid grace, she sank beneath the water—her every motion a whisper of temptation.
The ripples around her shimmered faintly as her body moved closer, slow and deliberate, like a siren drawn to her prey.
Her fingers brushed against dick first, tracing him lightly before her lips followed—warm, soft, and yielding.
Beneath the surface, her mouth enveloped him fully, taking him deeper with each tender motion, her tongue gliding in slow, fluid circles that sent tremors through his body.
"Gulu… gulu…"
Tiny bubbles slipped free, rising and bursting gently at the surface as she worked him with unhurried rhythm.
Slurp… slurp…
She surfaced for a brief breath—lips glistening, eyes hazy with heat—then descended again, her movements smoother, her devotion more intense as she took his in the confines of her throat.
The water around them trembled faintly with her rhythm.
Each motion drew him closer to the edge—her mouth a silken current of warmth and pressure, her hands guiding him with practiced reverence as pleasure coursed through every nerve in his body, pulling him toward the brink of release.
____________________________________________________________
Author's Note:
Mmm… things are starting to heat up, aren't they? If this chapter made your heart race even a little, don't be shy — drop a comment and tell me what you felt, what you loved, or what you want to see next. I read them all.
🔥 The next chapter? Let's just say Ross's world is about to get even more dangerous… and a lot more tempting. The Krypton Gold System hungers, and so do the women drawn to his power.
💞 So tell me, my dear readers — which One Piece beauty do you think will find herself in his arms next? Hancock was only the beginning… take your wildest guess below.