"Whoa! Are we actually going to fight?!"
Rockstar, the rookie of the crew, jumped up excitedly.
His expression was thrilled, fists clenched and knuckles cracking, already eager to join the fray.
Shanks laughed heartily, throwing his remaining arm around the young crew member's shoulders.
"No need to rush!"
He turned to gaze at the distant horizon, where sea and sky merged into a blurred line.
"If Ron dares to set rules on the open sea, he must have the confidence to back them up. This trading convention... is going to be much more interesting than we imagined!"
His voice carried undeniable certainty, brimming with both anticipation for unknown challenges and confidence in his own strength.
The sea wind suddenly intensified, transforming from a gentle breeze into a fierce gale.
The Red Force's sails billowed like dragon wings under the violent wind, the massive canvas shaking fiercely and producing roaring sounds.
Standing at the bow, Shanks' empty left sleeve flapped wildly, dancing in the wind. His gaze pierced through the clouds, as if he could already see the Eternal Kingdom floating in the sky.
"Full speed ahead!" He suddenly declared, raising his sake bottle high.
"Let's go meet this 'King'—the man who dares to draw boundaries in the New Era!"
Deafening cheers erupted across the deck.
Beckman shook his head, extinguishing his cigarette butt against the railing. He chuckled softly.
"Madman."
Though his voice wasn't loud, his hand had already instinctively reached for the flintlock at his waist, ready to fight at a moment's notice.
...
Sabaody Archipelago
Grove 13, Shakky's Rip-off Bar.
The afternoon sunlight streamed obliquely through the colorful stained-glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the wooden counter.
In front of the bar, Silvers Rayleigh lounged lazily against the back of his chair, relaxed and at ease.
The newspaper in his hands had been flipped through repeatedly, its edges already wrinkled from use.
He took a sip from his glass, the cool liquor sliding down his throat, making him squint comfortably.
"Things are getting lively." Rayleigh suddenly laughed aloud.
He gently spread the newspaper open on the bar, his slender index finger pointing to the shocking front-page photo of Enel delivering "Divine Punishment."
The scene in the photo seemed to linger before his eyes, the immense power evoking a sense of awe.
"Just when things had quieted down, the sea is about to stir up waves again," Rayleigh murmured to himself, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.
Shakky was intently polishing a glass with a snow-white cloth, her movements gentle and meticulous. S
he wore her signature cheongsam, a slender cigarette held between her fingers.
The swirling smoke made her gaze appear even more profound.
"Drawing boundaries and setting rules..." She thoughtfully blew out a smoke ring, her eyes settling on Ron's name in the report.
"That kid is trying to rewrite the laws of the New World."
In a corner of the bar, a few young pirates were excitedly discussing the news.
"I heard three pirate crews tested their luck yesterday and ended up charred to a crisp, ships and all!" A young man with a headband gestured animatedly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of fear and excitement.
"Tch, all smoke and mirrors!"
His companion gulped down a mouthful of beer, a disdainful expression on his face.
"Our captain has already gone. Once he gets a Devil Fruit... his strength will surely reach Admiral level! Hahaha!"
"Shh!" A third person suddenly lowered his voice nervously, a flicker of fear in his eyes. "Do you even know who owns this bar?"
Rayleigh and Shakky exchanged a glance, sharing a knowing smile, paying no mind to the rookies' conversation.
"Hey, old man." Shakky suddenly leaned closer to Rayleigh, her red lips curling into an enchanting smile. "Do you think... this Ron kid might be even more of a troublemaker than Roger was back in the day?"
Rayleigh swirled the glass in his hand, the ice cubes clinking crisply inside.
He gazed at the amber liquid, shimmering enchantingly under the sunlight.
His thoughts seemed to traverse time and space, returning to that world-changing voyage twenty years ago.
"Times are different."
He finally chuckled softly, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. "Roger ignited the Great Pirate Era. But now..."
His gaze drifted past the bar's window, toward the endless horizon in the distance.
"This young man named Ron... seems to want to draw a line for this chaotic era. He wants order."
Shakky let out a soft tsk, hanging the polished glass upside down on the rack.
"The weather's about to change," she remarked, turning to retrieve a bottle of aged rum from the cabinet. "Seems I'll need to stock up on fine liquor early. Those returning from the Eternal Divine Kingdom are bound to have plenty of stories to tell."
Ding ling!
Just then, the bar's doorbell jingled, shattering the tranquility.
A cloaked figure hurried in, their silhouette mysterious in the shifting light.
In a hushed, trembling tone, they announced to the room:
"Latest news! It's confirmed—Yonko Kaido has arrived at the Eternal Kingdom!"
Though the voice was soft, it struck like thunder, instantly causing a stir throughout the bar.
The room fell into complete silence. Everyone halted their actions, their gazes fixed on the messenger.
Rayleigh tilted his head back and drained his glass in one go.
As his Adam's apple bobbed, a drop of liquor trickled down his chin. He casually wiped it away, his eyes gleaming with a long-lost excitement.
"Things are getting more and more interesting…"
Shakky smiled as she refilled his glass.
"Indeed."
...
Eternal Kingdom · The Summit.
Amidst the radiant glow of the sunset, Ron's white robes billowed fiercely in the raging winds.
He stood atop the highest floating island, beneath him a churning sea of clouds.
Thousands of meters below, the ocean surface glittered like shattered sapphires.
Gazing into the distance, he observed the dense clusters of ships sailing across the vast expanse of the sea.
Yet, from Ron's lofty vantage point, the mighty Yonko, the Marines, and the ambitious rookies appeared as nothing more than insignificant, randomly moving pawns on a chessboard.
Each vessel followed its predetermined fate, unaware that they were all pieces in an invisible game.
And Ron was the one moving the hand.