On the massive pirate ship Shark Emeralda across the water, several thick chains shot out like living creatures and casually knocked aside the cannonballs flying toward it.
"Is this all the East Blue Marines got? Y'all weak enough that I can't even be bothered to yawn!"
A man clad in extravagant golden armor stood at the bow of the ship and wearing a pair of pink sunglasses.
He toyed with a few gold coins he had just taken, his face full of contempt.
Mad Treasure, captain of the Treasure Pirates.
Looking down at the chaos on the docks as though he were staring at a pile of corpses, he gave his order in a cold voice.
"Find that little rat who stole my key, and then kill all these annoying Marines."
"Yes, Captain!"
A group of bizarrely dressed pirates let out a howl and leapt over the railing.
...
Meanwhile, behind a stack of cargo crates in one corner of the docks, Carina was desperately covering her mouth, her face was pale as paper.
In her hand, she clutched a small cloth bundle so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.
'It's over.'
'This time, I really went too far.'
She had only wanted to use the chaos between the Marines and pirates to slip away unnoticed.
She had not expected the sunglasses-wearing lunatic to be so obsessively attached to that thing.
It was only a small bronze key, yet he had chased her all the way here like a rabid dog.
"Little rat... where are you hiding?"
A sinister voice suddenly sounded above Carina's head.
She froze, then slowly looked up.
The top of the cargo container above her, which had looked empty a moment ago, peeled away like a chameleon shedding its camouflage, revealing a hunched, wild-eyed freak.
Psycho P, Iro iro no mi user.
He twirled a camouflage-painted dagger in one hand and licked the blade with his tongue, a sick grin stretching across his face.
"Found you, you naughty little thief."
Carina's entire body turned ice-cold, frozen where she stood.
The pressure coming from that powerful figure made it hard for her even to breathe.
'Am i going to die?'
'Here, like some nameless nobody?'
Psycho P let out a sinister laugh as he raised the dagger, its tip aimed straight at the young girl's slender neck.
"Remember this in your next life—don't touch Treasure-sama's key."
Carina closed her eyes.
But the pain she had braced herself for never came.
Instead, a shriek that seemed capable of tearing eardrums apart roared in from the far horizon, rushing toward them at a speed that made no sense at all.
The sound arrived even faster than pain.
Carina only felt a wave of scorching heat slam into her chest, carrying with it the smell of something burnt, and in the next moment she was blown backward like a kite with its string cut, crashing hard into a scattered pile of cargo.
She felt no pain.
Her mind went completely blank.
She opened her eyes in a daze and instinctively reached for her neck.
It was still there.
Her head had not been severed!
Only something warm and sticky was slowly trickling down the side of her face.
Trembling, she raised a hand and wiped at it.
It was blood.
But it was not her blood.
She stared ahead in shock.
The filthy hunchback who had been holding a dagger and preparing to butcher her like a chick a second ago was gone.
Gone in the most literal sense.
All that remained where he had stood was a pair of clown boots from the knees down, still planted on the ground.
The cut was smooth and clean, as though everything above them had simply vanished into thin air.
BOOM—!!
Only then did the delayed explosion finally erupt like a giant beast waking up, slamming into everyone's ears.
The famously luxurious Shark Emeralda now had its bow and half its hull blown apart by an unstoppable force!
The countless gems and gold embedded in its railings turned into expensive shrapnel under the violent shockwave, scattering and clattering all across the harbor.
Amid the rain of flying splinters, a piece of white oak blackened by violent friction, burned down until only the hilt remained, landed beside Carina's feet.
'A wooden sword?'
"You've... got to be kidding me..."
Carina stared blankly at the charred hilt still giving off smoke, and a dry, rasping sound escaped her throat.
The entire dock fell into a dead silence.
The Marines with rifles in their hands and the pirates holding cutlasses all froze in the exact poses they had been in a moment before, like a row of absurd statues.
"Hey... Psycho P?"
Treasure's sunglasses slid halfway down his face.
The eyes behind them, usually filled with greed and mockery, were now blank.
There's a monster on this island!
He slowly turned his neck and looked toward his trusted subordinate, who had already been reduced to a mangled mess.
That attack had come without any warning at all.
There had been no sign of Haki, no trace of a person, not even a glimpse of where it came from.
One long-range strike had killed his officer on the spot and wrecked half his ship along with him!
"Who is it?! Show yourself!"
Treasure snapped back to his senses, the golden armor on his body clinking sharply.
The instincts of a powerful fighter were roaring inside him, every hair on his body standing on end.
If that attack had been even slightly off...
If he had been the one it was aimed at...
He did not dare continue that thought.
"Monster... there's a monster hiding on this island!"
At last one pirate broke and screamed.
The pirates who had been arrogant just moments ago instantly fell into chaos, frantically looking around as if something deadly might come flying out of nowhere at any second.
...
On the other side of the battlefield, Commander Domon was leaning against a reef and gasping for breath.
He stared at the scorched wooden hilt lying on the ground, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
That was the hilt of a bamboo practice sword, not even a real blade.
To throw something that light with the force of a cannonball, send it through a human body, and blow apart half a warship in the process... that was no longer something an ordinary human could do.
It demanded terrifying strength, and even more terrifying control over that strength.
"So it's true... the rumors were real."
Domon clutched at the deep wound on his abdomen, one so severe that bone could almost be seen, and ground his teeth together.
He had deliberately lured these vicious Treasure Pirates toward the remote village of Shimotsuki for the sake of his plan.
As a veteran who had once patrol to the Grand Line, he had heard from a drunken superior long ago that somewhere in the East Blue, hidden inside a dojo, there lived a great swordsman in seclusion.
The story said that this swordsman had long since grown weary of killing and now wanted only to quietly teach the next generation.
"That attack just now... it had to be that swordsman doing..."
Domon looked toward the pirate crew in the distance, where fear had already begun to spread.
The one who had launched that strike was absurdly strong, yet still had not shown himself.
That could only mean he had no intention of escalating the situation, and perhaps that attack had been no more than a warning.
But as long as that madman Treasure was still alive, these pirates would sooner or later slaughter the whole village in their rage.
He had to get to the dojo!
Even if he had to kneel, he would personally beg that swordsman to act!
"All troops... listen up!"
Squeezing out the last of his strength, Domon forced the command through his throat in a hoarse voice.
"They already helped us get rid of the most troublesome killer. There's still a chance to salvage this. Pull back the defensive line and cover the civilians while they retreat! I know how to deal with that golden bastard!"
With that, he staggered away, his eyes fixed on the bamboo grove deeper in the village.
That was their last hope.
Commander Domon's bloodstained boots dragged a long trail across the gravel road.
His lungs felt like they were on fire, his vision was beginning to blur, and only one thought remained in his mind: he had to rush into the bamboo grove, and even if he had to kneel before that man, he had to beg him to act!
As long as that swordsman was willing to move, these pirates would be finished!
But the road to survival was cut off as a heavy pressure suddenly dropped from the sky without warning.
The earth beneath Domon's feet jolted violently, his knees shaking so hard he nearly collapsed on the spot.
Dust surged upward like a wall and blocked his way to the bamboo grove.
He looked up, and as the dust began to clear, he saw a young man in a black trench coat standing with his back to him, casually pulling his foot from a crater deep enough to reach the knee.
"So this is what the gravity field feels like when it's fully activated? Walking like this is no different from dragging myself through deep-sea mud."
The young man muttered to himself, sounding completely indifferent to the commotion he had caused, and brushed at the hem of his trench coat with open disdain as though dust had no right to touch it.
Before Domon could decide whether the youth was friend or foe, a small figure came scrambling in behind him.
"S-save me!"
Carina grabbed desperately at the hem of the black trench coat.
She might have been a thief, but her judgment was sharp.
The wooden sword that had flown past earlier had already made one thing perfectly clear—on this battlefield, only the figure in front of her could stand against that gold-covered lunatic.
"Hey, little thief, don't wipe your snot on my new clothes."
Zaraki did not even turn around as he casually tugged the hem of his coat free from her hands.
The motion looked effortless, but the dull rush of air that came off the fabric alone made Carina's heart skip a beat.
Why did that coat feel even heavier than iron?
...
"Heh... so that's why you had the nerve to blow up my ship."
In the distance, Treasure stepped over shattered gems and wreckage as he approached.
One lens of his pink sunglasses had cracked, leaving his single eye exposed and that eye was brimming with killing intent!
He stared at Zaraki, the corner of his mouth curling upward to reveal a mouthful of gold-capped teeth.
"Black hair, around sixteen, always dressed in clothes that don't fit right... if the information's right, you're the East Blue marine trainee those Marines have been searching all over for. Zaraki, right?"
As he spoke, Treasure swung his arm casually.
With a sharp metallic rattle, several thick chains slid from his sleeve and rose like venomous snakes lifting their heads.
"I only came to this backwater to hunt treasure, but if I can take down some Marine brat with talent while I'm here, even better. Once your head is hanging from the prow of my new ship, those old bastards at Marine Headquarters should make some very interesting faces."
Only then did Zaraki turn around.
His eyes first swept across Treasure's, then across the chaotic wreckage scattered over the harbor, and finally settled on the restless chains in the other's hands.
"Marine trainee?"
Zaraki tilted his head, and a crisp crack came from his neck.
He did not bother denying it, though since someone like Treasure knew about him.... probably just another rumor spread by the Marines searching for him.
"That label's boring. What I actually want to know is..." Zaraki grinned, baring teeth even whiter and sharper than Treasure's.
"Are those chains of yours tough enough?"
"YOU'RE DEAD YOU BASTARD!"
Infuriated by the look in Zaraki's eyes, as though he were being measured like a slab of meat, Treasure roared and lashed his right arm forward.
Three chains as thick as a man's wrist ripped through the air with a piercing shriek, flying straight at Zaraki's vitals in a triangular formation.
It was a killing strike that left no room to survive, moving so fast it trailed afterimages in the air.
Domon's pupils shrank sharply.
"Watch out! Those are specially forged alloy cha—"
Clang!
A deafening crash cut off the rest of his warning.
Zaraki simply stood where he was and allowed the chains, which could pierce steel plating, to crash straight into his chest.
A dull shock ran through his torso.
Beneath the black coat, the muscles across his chest tightened hard as forged iron and the violent recoil surged back through the chains at once.
Treasure's wrist went numb, and the force of the rebound shoved him back two full steps.
He stared at Zaraki in disbelief.
The boy was completely unharmed!
He had not even shifted his footing.
"That's all?"
Zaraki let out a sigh and flicked at his chest as though what had just struck him had been nothing more than a wad of cotton.
Then he glanced around, bent down, and casually picked up a broken mast beam from the nearby wreckage, a piece of rotten wood that had been soaking in the sea for who knew how many years, with half a length of blackened rope still hanging from it.
The moment that ruined beam settled into Zaraki's hand, however, the pressure in the air suddenly changed.
"Since you're not going all out, I'ts my turn!"