The sea breeze blowing through Foosha Village carried a faint, salty tang.
The wooden door of Partys Bar was pushed open. The wind chimes let out a crisp, clear ring. It was past closing time. The tavern was free from the usual raucous pirates and highly-strung Marines.
Blake sat leisurely behind the bar counter. He held a glass of iced juice in his hand. Under the dim, yellowish light, his silver hair gave him an air of lazy indifference.
A woman draped in a heavy, oversized black cloak pushed through the door. It was Imu.
The secret god who had ruled the World Government from the shadows for eight hundred years now walked with heavy, burdened steps. She wasn't wearing her crown of absolute authority. Her hood was pulled back to reveal a delicate but pale face. Her eyes, normally characterized by an aloof, ringed pattern, were entirely bloodshot.
She walked straight to the counter and pulled out a high stool to sit down.
Blake didn't even look up. He merely grabbed a rag and slowly wiped away the water stains on the wooden surface.
"Manager," Imu finally spoke.
Her voice had lost all of its former god-like majesty, replaced instead by an unconcealable exhaustion and dryness.
Looking at Blake's youthful face, she couldn't banish the memory of the scene right before Planet Namek's destruction from her mind.
The golden-haired Saiyan, Goku, had unleashed a terrifying power capable of crumbling entire planets—a power that filled her with absolute despair.
But what terrified her even more was the young man sitting right in front of her.
With just one hand, without even using Haki, Blake had casually caught the Super Saiyan's world-ending Kamehameha. He had even effortlessly interrupted the transformation sequence.
What did that make her?
Imu had lived for eight centuries, styling herself as the god of the world. Yet, her proud eternal life and the "Ki" she had acquired from the Dragon Ball world felt like a child's toy in front of him.
Saying it was like using a cannon to shoot a mosquito wouldn't even begin to describe the absolute disparity in their strength.
"Something on your mind?" Blake asked, putting down his rag to take a sip of juice.
Imu took a deep breath, pressing her hands firmly against the countertop. Her ten fingers intertwined so tightly that her knuckles turned stark white.
"I want to know if there is a faster way to get stronger," she said, raising her head to meet his eyes. "Even if I have to pay an unimaginable price!"
Blake chuckled. Leaning back in his chair, he observed the fallen deity with great interest.
"The power you have right now is more than enough out there. With your Ki system and eight hundred years of accumulated life force, even if Akainu learned the Kaio-ken, he wouldn't be able to kill you anytime soon."
Imu bit her lower lip hard.
"He wouldn't be able to kill me anytime soon? Are you saying that eventually, that magma-hurling brute will be able to rip my head off?!"
Her voice pitched into a sharp, distorted screech, fueled by extreme panic and fury. This was exactly her greatest fear.
Being crushed by a dimensional anomaly like Blake was something she could accept, as he was a Creator capable of manipulating time at will. But being surpassed by the native mud-dwellers of the pirate world was absolutely unacceptable.
That old geezer Garp had not only regained his youth, but he had also mastered the Sage Body and the Eight Inner Gates.
Sengoku had unlocked a colossal, sky-obscuring True Several Thousand Hands wooden Buddha.
That idiot Kaido had even returned with a Saiyan physique.
Now, even Akainu could split the ocean of the Calm Belt with a single punch.
These natives, who were originally meant to grovel at her feet as mere pawns, were closing the gap at a terrifying, violently rapid pace.
At this rate, in less than half a year, the Empty Throne would become an utter joke. The World Government's eight centuries of rule would be torn to shreds by these lunatics wielding high-dimensional power.
Where would her dignity go? How would she ever face the Celestial Dragons, who were still completely in the dark?
"Manager, I need more power," Imu practically begged, her tone laced with pure paranoia. "Devil Fruit origins, Heavenly Tribute, or even absolute control over the Red Line. As long as you can provide me with a path to surpass them, I'll give you everything I have."
Watching her desperate state, Blake lightly tapped his fingers against the wooden bar.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound echoed loudly through the empty tavern. Imu's heart raced along with the rhythm. She knew that a single sentence from this silver-haired young man could determine the fate of the entire world.
"There are no shortcuts to true power," Blake finally said, stopping his rhythmic tapping. "If you want to surpass them, you'll have to face horrors and absolute despair far beyond what they've encountered."
"I'm not afraid to die," Imu's gaze didn't waver. "I'm only afraid of losing my right to rule this world."
Blake shook his head.
"Dying in a dungeon isn't the worst possible outcome. However, since you're showing so much sincerity, I happen to have a brand-new project right here."
"What kind of project?" Imu's eyes instantly lit up.
Standing up, Blake walked over to the chalkboard in the tavern. He picked up a piece of chalk and wrote a few large words: Avengers.
"Is that a name?" Imu stared at the words, entirely confused.
Tossing the chalk back into its box, Blake turned around.
"It's a completely new dungeon mode. I call it a Faction Confrontation Dungeon."
Taking his seat back behind the bar, he continued.
"In previous dungeons, you all fought solo or formed small squads to complete quests. But this time is different. This specific world is facing a universal-scale cleansing crisis."
Hearing the phrase "universal-scale," Imu's pupils violently contracted. The explosion of Planet Namek was still fresh in her mind. Anyone capable of causing trouble on a cosmic scale was definitively not ordinary.
"In this world, there are six rocks known as the Infinity Stones," Blake explained, holding up six fingers with a devilish, enchanting tone. "Space, Time, Soul, Reality, Power, and Mind."
"Gather these six stones. Snap your fingers..." Blake mimed a snapping motion.
Snap.
The crisp sound made Imu shudder.
"...you can erase half of all life in the universe. Or, you could rewrite reality entirely to create any rules you desire."
Imu stopped breathing.
Modifying reality? Creating rules? Weren't those domains strictly reserved for true gods?
If she could obtain that kind of power, Akainu's Kaio-ken wouldn't matter. Even if Garp opened a hundred Gates of Death, he would be nothing more than dust she could erase with a single thought!
"I'm going!" Imu slammed both hands onto the counter, causing the wood to tremble. She leaned forward, almost pressing her face against Blake's. "How much? How many Devil Fruits?! I'll buy out every single slot for this dungeon!"
Blake calmly raised a single finger, gently pressing it against Imu's forehead to push her back.
"Don't be so hasty. As I said, this is a Faction Confrontation Dungeon. One person cannot monopolize this instance."
Taking another sip of his juice, he elaborated.
"Upon entry, you will be divided into two opposing factions. One is the Native Superhero Faction, whose goal is to protect the stones and stop the universe from being cleansed. The other is the Alien Overlord Faction, tasked with stealing all six stones to personally snap those fingers."
Imu's brow furrowed deeply.
"Are you saying I might be sorted into a different faction than that pirate and Marine trash?"
Blake nodded.
"Exactly. And to ensure this game remains entertaining, your original powers will be suppressed or converted to a certain extent once you enter. You will be forced to rely on the dungeon world's native rules and items to fight."
Imu fell into deep thought.
It sounded incredibly risky, but high risk meant absolute, unparalleled rewards. As long as she could secure the power system of the Infinity Stones, she would firmly reclaim her throne as the King of the World.
"Fine," Imu gritted out through clenched teeth. "I want to join the Alien Overlord Faction. I will show them exactly who the true master of these seas is!"
She turned on her heel and pulled open the tavern's wooden doors. The night's ocean breeze whipped at the hem of her black cloak as her silhouette vanished into the darkness.
Watching the door swing shut, Blake stretched lazily. He pulled up his system interface in his mind.
The [Avengers: Infinity War] dungeon was now fully illuminated.
He absentmindedly spun his empty glass.
The natives of the One Piece world had just acquired a taste of high-dimensional power and were currently overflowing with extreme arrogance.
Throwing this group of monstrous anomalies against Thanos's Infinity Gauntlet, or having them brawl physically with Thor and the Hulk... just imagining the sheer chaos was highly entertaining.
Blake even briefly considered making an alternate identity to drop in and make a guest appearance. After all, sitting in the tavern collecting money all day was getting a bit stale.
Once the news of this Faction Dungeon spread, the entire world would go absolutely feral. The greed for power was an abyss that could never be truly filled.
And Blake? He was simply the merchant standing at the edge of that abyss, selling them the rope.
He turned and walked toward the second-floor lounge. His leather shoes struck the wooden stairs with heavy, muffled thuds.
He needed a good night's sleep; tomorrow, he would have to deal with a very loud, very rowdy crowd.
----
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