In the shadowed depths of the world, names whispered in fear and greed held Kingdom over countless dark trades.
The Loan Shark King — Fushenlu Ferud.
The Shipping King "Deep Sea Current" Umit.
The Master of Shadows — Giberson, the Concealer.
The Funeral Baron — Drac Piecro.
The Queen of Pleasure Street — Stussy.
And, of course, the infamous broker known only as Joker — the King of the Underworld's Mediators.
But these were only the most visible of the monsters that ruled the Dark World. Beneath even them lurked the bloodier factions — organ traffickers, assassin syndicates, mercenary war companies, bounty peddlers of the black market.
Even Doflamingo, for all his rising fame, was not yet their leader. He played the role of the broker's broker — connecting powers, making introductions, and taking his cut in the shadows. Despite his power as a pirate of the North Blue, he still ranked merely alongside men like Ferud and the other underworld lords.
The true king of the underworld — the one called "The Lord" — was Fosfite, master of the No. 1 Human Auction House, the hidden hand behind the world's largest slave trade.
Don't be fooled by the number of slave shops on Sabaody. Behind them all stood a single man — Fosfite. In truth, Sabaody wasn't even the heart of his business. The real center of the trade was the Holy Land — Mary Geoise.
Fosfite's power came from his patrons. He supplied the Celestial Dragons directly with "merchandise." Under their protection, he could dip his hands into any business, legal or not. Some even whispered that Fosfite was the Celestial Dragons' agent in the underworld.
When Rosinante hung up the transponder snail, Fosfite sat in his velvet chair and gave a cold, amused smile.
Then, with deliberate calm, he picked up the transponder snail again — and began to make calls.
"Hello, War House? I want to hire ten thousand mercenaries."
"Funeral Company? Drac Piecro, I've got a body for you to prepare."
"Umit? I need transport — men and cargo, quickly."
One after another, calls went out across the Dark World.
A man wrapped head-to-toe in bandages stood beside Fosfite, his voice raspy. "You realize the others already know about this, don't you? There were plenty of witnesses at the auction. What if they all decide to come after that trillion Berries too?"
Fosfite chuckled darkly. "That's why I'm hiring them. A trillion Berries isn't something one man can swallow alone. Better to invite the wolves to feast together — and then, once they're fat and weakened, I'll be the one left standing. When the time comes to divide the spoils, the lion's share will still belong to me."
The bandaged man's tone was grave. "Don't underestimate the Grey Nation. Their power isn't small. Their divisions may be scattered across the Four Seas, but they possess spatial transport. They can deploy their forces anywhere in an instant. And their captain — Rosinante — he's not one to trifle with. That trillion Berries won't come easy."
"I know," Fosfite said, his smile deepening. "But tell me, who can resist? A trillion is a temptation even gods would covet. Shadowblade," he said, turning to the bandaged man, "inform every pirate crew we deal with — from the first half of the Grand Line to the New World itself. Spread the word far and wide. Let them all come. Let them exhaust the Grey Nation's strength. And when they've bled each other dry—then you and your assassins will finish it."
His voice dropped low, sharp as a blade. "You call yourselves Dark Thorns, assassins who can slay even an admiral. Don't disappoint me."
Fosfite knew the truth of power. He wasn't just a merchant — he was a warlord cloaked in gold. From among his slaves, he had built a private army of a hundred thousand. The most gifted of his enslaved children were taken, broken, and reforged into killers — the dreaded Dark Thorn Assassins, whose name alone could make underworld bosses tremble.
And the man before him — wrapped in bandages — was their leader. Codename: Dark Thorn.
"Oh, and one more thing," Fosfite added, his eyes glinting. "Send word to Kaido, the Beast. That lunatic couldn't care less about money — tell him there are powerful fighters involved, and he'll come. When he does, we won't have to worry about Rosinante anymore. The Dragon King will fall, and the Beast will do it for us."
At the mention of Kaido, even the battle-hardened assassin flinched. His one visible eye darkened with remembered horror.
Kaido…
Years ago, the Dark Thorn assassins had been hired to hunt him. The mission ended in catastrophe. Nearly the entire corps was annihilated.
The wounds that still marred his body were Kaido's parting gift.
That single hunt had been the greatest failure in the history of the Dark Thorns — and the memory still made their leader's blood run cold.
…
Then —
BOOM!
A blinding column of lightning fell from the clear skies above Sabaody Archipelago, slamming into a massive auction house.
When the light faded, the building was gone. In its place yawned a smoking crater — deep, black, and silent.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
One after another, pillars of thunder rained down from the heavens, each striking with divine precision upon the slave markets and auction houses of the lawless zone.
The civilians, hastily evacuated under Marine orders, could only stare in horror as the sky turned into a roaring storm of wrathful light.
It was like the end of the world — lightning cascading down from the heavens, swallowing everything that represented humanity's filth.
Those who saw it could only collapse to their knees. Some wept. Others clasped their hands and prayed to gods who would never answer.
Even the proud Celestial Dragons, who had refused to leave their auction seats, now trembled like frightened children.
"T-that's… that's the auction house!"
"The slave trade—it's being wiped out!"
Each strike of thunder made the island quake. The sky itself seemed to rage at what mankind had done.
From the Marine observation line, Kizaru's usual smirk flickered with something like awe. He touched his chin thoughtfully. "Whew~ the Goro Goro no Mi really is the most destructive of all Logia fruits. Such raw power—it's practically divine."
Tsuru's eyes were grim. "If that boy continues to grow, his strength will one day rival yours—or even surpass it. He'll be a threat to all of you."
"Not just rival," Kizaru said, his lazy voice edged with respect. "He's terrifying. Even at his age, he's already mastered advanced Observation Haki, and his combat power's at least on par with a Vice Admiral. It won't be long before he's a threat to the entire Marine hierarchy."
He grinned faintly. "Still… if we can use this war as a chance to eliminate him, maybe it won't be such a bad thing after all."
Tsuru frowned. "You underestimate him. With that kind of mobility, even you would have trouble killing him. Unless Rosinante himself dies, that boy won't fall."
Karp crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he watched the storm of lightning tear through the lawless zone. "Heh… but tell me—since when was Rosinante that bad with a sword?"
He squinted toward a distant street corner, curiosity flashing across his face—because what he saw there made even the Hero of the Marines raise an eyebrow.
…