I was always laughed at.
I was always mocked.
And every time they threw stones at me… I threw my fists back.
Not because I enjoyed fighting—
but because I had to survive long enough to reach my dream.
I had to become strong.
Equa Rome sat in the dim light of his small house, legs dangling off his wooden chair, eyes glued to the worn book in his hands:
"Dedicated to Ryuta Konan."
Every page overflowed with legends—battles, victories, miracles.
Rome's eyes gleamed with awe.
"I will do it… I WILL do it.
The greatest pirate crew… the Devil King's pirate crew."
The words left his mouth with unshakable belief.
Then—
THUNK!
A rock smashed into his forehead.
He fell off the chair, clutching his bleeding temple.
"Ouch… what the hell?" he grunted in a tiny voice.
Three boys stood at his doorway, laughing so hard they could barely breathe.
"Look at this idiot! Dreaming all day!"
Rome pushed himself up, teeth clenched.
"You're the real idiots!" he shouted, eyes burning with humiliation and defiance.
{Back to the Present — War}
The battlefield roared around him.
Lightning split the sky.
Black flames curled around his arms, rising like living shadows.
Rome glared at Morgan Tarek.
"…and then YOU," he growled, voice trembling, "you enslaved me.
You tried to kill my dream."
His eyes ignited with pure, primal rage.
"You will DIE now. I will make you PAY!"
The black flames spiraled violently, swallowing his fists.
"AIR FIRE FIST!"
He slammed his fist forward and a massive blast of black fire tore through the air, the ground cracking open beneath its pressure.
Morgan slipped past it with inhuman speed—
the flames spiraled up behind him, scorching the sky—
but the conqueror was already gone from its path.
Rome's entire body became engulfed in black fire, the silhouette of a demon cut from smoke and shadows.
Morgan took a cautious step back.
"I'll do it again," Morgan said coldly.
Rome lifted his head, flames roaring around him.
"Just try it," he snarled, eyes burning with uncontrollable rage.