By early morning, the coastline of Foosha Village was entirely obscured.
A massive, suffocating armada of Marine battleships and pirate galleons clogged the port so tightly not a drop of water could leak through. It completely wiped out the area's former reputation as a quiet, unknown village in the East Blue.
Just half an hour ago, Morgans's News Coos had blanketed the entire world with breaking headlines:
『Massive Moves at Partys Bar! Unprecedented Faction Confrontation Dungeon About to Open!』
This single broadcast instantly ignited the greed and fanaticism of every powerhouse.
Nobody with a functioning brain dared to question the silver-haired manager's sheer power anymore. The ashes of the last fools who doubted him had already been tossed into the Calm Belt to feed the Sea Kings.
Everyone understood a brutal, undeniable truth: whoever secured a spot in this new dungeon would earn the absolute right to trample the rest of the world underfoot.
The atmosphere in the clearing outside Partys Bar was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Three ten-year-old brats were weaving through the dense forest of adult legs.
Wearing his signature straw hat, Luffy was happily devouring a piece of bone-in meat he'd swiped from who-knows-where, his face shining with grease.
"Ace! Sabo! Look at that huge guy!" Luffy yelled, pointing straight at Kaido standing near the front. "His horns grew back!"
Startled, Ace quickly clamped a hand over Luffy's mouth and dragged him behind a thick apple tree.
"Keep it down, you idiot!" he hissed. "Are you trying to get us killed?!"
Sabo pulled down the brim of his top hat, poking his head out to observe the legendary monsters he normally only saw in newspapers.
"Grandpa is here today, too," he noted. "Look at his muscles; they look even crazier than the last time he came home."
Indeed, Garp was present. Completely ditching his Marine uniform, the old man stood bare-chested.
The absurd regenerative properties of the Sage Body left him in a perpetual, irritable state of boundless energy. With zero regard for his image, he picked his nose while giving a sideways glare to Whitebeard standing nearby.
"Newgate, your old bones haven't fallen apart yet?" Garp taunted.
Whitebeard, leaning heavily on his massive naginata, Murakumogiri, chuckled. Next to him, Marco remained highly vigilant of their surroundings.
"Gurararara," Whitebeard laughed. "My body is doing incredibly well, Garp. Shattering your dog head with a single punch would be no problem at all."
Kaido scoffed loudly from the side, blowing out a stream of scorching breath. He was wrapped in thick bandages, though the devastating injuries he suffered from Frieza on Planet Namek were largely healed.
But that didn't stop him from playing the victim.
Everyone knew the squeaky wheel got the grease, and Kaido was certainly no brainless brute.
The Saiyan physique had taught him a wonderfully twisted lesson: as long as he didn't die outright, getting beaten half to death only made him stronger.
Right now, he looked at everyone present as nothing more than a giant whetstone to farm experience off of.
Suddenly, the dense crowd parted on its own, creating a wide path.
A suffocating wave of extreme heat, accompanied by the heavy stench of blood, rolled through the clearing. It was Akainu.
He had just returned from a deserted island in the Calm Belt. His usual dark red suit had been replaced by a simple black shirt, but it failed to conceal the violently frenzied energy pulsating beneath his skin.
The aftereffects of the Kaio-ken were still flaring. With every step he took, the stone slabs beneath his feet cracked under the sheer, unendurable pressure.
Admirals Aokiji and Kizaru followed closely behind him. For once, the two weren't bickering. When a dimensional power struggle of this magnitude was on the line, slacking off would only lead to a remarkably ugly death.
Standing on a low rooftop nearby, Doflamingo adjusted his pink sunglasses. He idly tossed a few gold coins in his hand, a sinister, trademark smirk plastered across his face.
"Fufufufu," he chuckled. "Everyone showed up, huh? The rampage of this era truly is a spectacularly gorgeous feast."
Creak.
The tavern's wooden door opened from the inside.
It was as if someone had hit the mute button on the entire clearing. Even the sea breeze rustling the treetops seemed to freeze.
Wearing a loose white shirt and stifling a yawn, Blake stepped out, holding a half-finished glass of iced milk.
Instantly, the gaze of every single legendary figure locked onto the silver-haired youth. There was no killing intent. No probing arrogance. Only pure, unadulterated awe and extreme desperation.
Blake swept his eyes over the dense crowd.
"You're all early," he noted casually, taking a sip of his milk before resting the glass on a wooden barrel by the door. "Looks like that bird-man Morgans already spread the word. I'll skip the pleasantries then."
Raising his right hand, Blake snapped his fingers.
Snap.
A colossal holographic projection violently expanded in the sky above the tavern.
On the screen, six vividly colored gems radiated a mesmerizing, hypnotic glow.
Space. Time. Soul. Reality. Power. Mind.
Six entirely distinct waves of high-dimensional energy pulsed through the screen, pressing down on the crowd so heavily that they found it hard to breathe.
Every powerhouse's breathing grew ragged.
Akainu clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles popped. He could distinctly feel the apocalyptic destructive force sleeping inside that purple Power Stone.
"This new dungeon is called [Avengers: Infinity War]," Blake announced, his voice not overly loud but ringing perfectly clear in everyone's ears.
"Unlike your previous solo runs or small-team child's play, this is a massive Faction Confrontation Dungeon. Upon entering, you will be forcibly split into two sides: the Native Superhero Faction and the Alien Overlord Faction."
Blake pointed up at the six rotating gems.
"These six stones are called the Infinity Stones. If you gather all of them, socket them into the corresponding Infinity Gauntlet, and simply snap your fingers..." He recreated the gesture for emphasis. "...you can instantly erase half of all life in that universe. Or, you can modify the laws of reality to create any rules you desire."
The clearing plunged into a silence so profound you could hear a pin drop.
Modify the laws of reality.
Those words crashed like a heavy sledgehammer against everyone's hearts.
Sengoku's facial muscles twitched.
Whitebeard's grip on Murakumogiri tightened. His knuckles turned white.
Akainu kept his head lowered, the brim of his cap hiding the terrifying thoughts swirling in his eyes, but his heavy, bellows-like breathing gave him away.
Just yesterday, on Planet Namek, they had witnessed magical orbs capable of resurrecting the dead. Seven Dragon Balls had brought Krillin back to life.
That miraculous power, completely defying the natural laws of life and death, had already ground their worldviews into the dirt. Now, Blake was offering them something even more absurd.
Blake looked down at the top-tier fighters who were rapidly being consumed by their own greed, a highly amused smile tugging at his lips.
"Don't get the two confused," he warned. "The Shenron summoned by those Dragon Balls on Namek can grant wishes, yes, but those wishes have hard limits. Shenron's power cannot exceed the capabilities of its creator, the Grand Elder of Namek. If you asked Shenron to kill someone far stronger than its creator, it wouldn't be able to do it."
He raised two fingers to illustrate his point.
"But these Infinity Stones are different. They are the physical manifestations of the very rules that existed at the dawn of that universe. They have no creator's limits."
"As long as your body can withstand the apocalyptic energy backlash of utilizing all six stones simultaneously, you can reshape the entire cosmos to your whims. Rewind time. Resurrect dead planets. Strip everyone of their Devil Fruit powers. All of it, decided by a single thought."
Blake paused, burying his hands in his pockets and leaning forward slightly, his silver hair tousled by the wind.
"Let me put it a bit more bluntly. If one of you actually manages to collect all six stones in the dungeon, put on the Infinity Gauntlet, and successfully execute that snap... then even I," Blake pointed a finger directly at his own chest, "might not be able to beat you."
Boom.
The statement dropped like a spark into a powder keg. The entire Foosha Village coastline erupted into absolute pandemonium.
Beat Blake.
Those two words echoed frantically in everyone's minds.
Who was Blake? He was the monster who could string up Yonko like cured meats. The deity who caught a planet-destroying Super Saiyan energy wave with one hand. The Creator who handed out high-dimensional powers as if they were spare change.
In this world, nobody even dared harbor the thought of rebelling against him. It wasn't about courage; it was pure suicide.
But now, Blake had personally admitted it: getting those Infinity Stones gave them a chance to defeat him.
What did that mean?
It meant whoever claimed the Gauntlet would replace Blake as the new, absolute God of the Myriad Heavens.
Akainu's hands balled into fists so tight his nails dug deeply into his flesh. Blood dripped silently between his fingers, staining the stone ground.
He needed that power. With the ability to rewrite reality, he could permanently erase every single pirate from existence, enforcing Absolute Justice across every corner of the sea.
Doflamingo pushed his pink sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, aggressively suppressing the maniacal laughter bubbling in his throat.
His status as a Celestial Dragon didn't mean sh*t. With the Infinity Stones, he could turn those arrogant pigs up in Mary Geoise into actual, literal livestock.
As everyone internally calculated their vicious schemes, a sudden, piercingly loud laugh shattered the heavy tension.
----
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