In an obscure port town, a teenager with a bright red nose was haggling with a burly black market merchant, his words flying like spit.
"Hey! We agreed on three million Berries, and not a single coin less! Look at this guy's bounty poster, it's written right there in black and white!" Buggy shouted self-righteously, pointing at a pirate captain who was tied up and bruised all over.
"Hmph," the black market merchant picked at his teeth, glancing disdainfully at the captive. "You knocked this guy out with some cheap trick. There isn't even a decent wound on him. I'll give you two and a half million. Take it or leave it."
"You scoundrel! Is my magnificent scheme not worth anything?!" Buggy stomped his feet in anger, his nose seeming to glow even redder.
Just as he was about to unleash his silver tongue to argue the price back up, a newspaper in the hand of a passerby caught his full attention. The photo took up the entire front page—that familiar profile, that iconic black and gold naginata…
Buggy's eyes instantly widened. Ignoring the man's curses, he snatched the newspaper and plastered his face to it.
"Marineford… reduced to ruins… 'Wave Guiding King'…" His mouth opened wider and wider. When he saw the outrageously long string of zeroes on the bounty, his brain shut down completely. "Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands… three… three billion, one hundred and sixty million Berries?!"
A hoarse scream echoed throughout the entire port. Everyone nearby stared at him as if he were crazy, but Buggy didn't care at all. He held the newspaper with hands that trembled from excitement, his eyes filled with stars of pure admiration.
"This… isn't this Kyle-bro?!"
"AMAZING—!!!"
"He's incredible! He turned Marineford upside down all by himself! Now that's a true pirate!"
He spun around in place, acting as if he himself had just defeated Marineford. The black market merchant frowned at his frenzied behavior and threw a bag of Berries on the ground.
"Alright, alright, you're too loud! Take the money and get out of here!"
Buggy's fanaticism was immediately broken by the scent of money. He stuffed the cash into his sack with superhuman speed, his face beaming with the happy smile of a true miser. But he still clutched the newspaper tightly, as if it were a priceless treasure.
"Just you wait, Kyle-bro! This great Captain Buggy will form his own pirate crew soon and make my name echo across this great sea!" He shouldered his money bag, struck what he considered to be an incredibly cool pose against the setting sun, and strode away.
On an island in the Grand Line, a gentle breeze swept through a sea of flowers, filling the air with a fresh scent. A red-haired teenager sat under a large tree, idly poking at ants on the ground with a blade of grass. A Western-style sword hung at his waist, and his clear eyes held a carefree spirit that seemed beyond his years.
A news bird flew by, dropping a newspaper that landed right in front of him. The teenager casually picked it up. When his gaze fell on the front-page headline, his lazy expression instantly froze. He carefully read the entire report, word by word—from the details of the "Dragon-Lion Rebellion," to Garp's "tell it like it is" interview, and finally, to that brand new, astronomically high wanted poster.
After a long time, the shock on the teenager's face slowly faded, replaced by a big, brilliant smile.
"Hahahaha…" He couldn't help but laugh out loud. He casually placed a straw hat on his head and lay back on the grass, looking up at the sky. "Honestly… Kyle-bro is still the same. He either does nothing, or he does something huge." Shanks's eyes sparkled with excitement and longing. "Facing Garp and Sengoku alone… just thinking about it makes your blood boil."
He recalled his days on Roger's ship, remembering the man who was always gentle but more reliable than anyone else in a fight. He was a strict teacher and a helpful friend, one who would teach him swordsmanship, share a drink with him, and pull pranks using all sorts of strange methods.
"Incredible…" A heartfelt sigh of admiration escaped his lips. "I can't just keep lazing around anymore." Shanks sat up, brushed the grass from his clothes, and his eyes grew resolute. "I need to find a reliable crew and set sail!"
He carefully folded the newspaper and tucked it safely away. A new era was coming, and he had no intention of being left behind.
On the Sabaody Archipelago, in Area 13, the sound of melodious jazz music filled Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. In a corner of the bar, Rayleigh slowly swirled the whiskey in his glass. He looked like an ordinary ship coater, exuding a quietness that felt out of place with the surrounding noise.
Shakky, with a cigarette dangling from her lips, pushed a newspaper in front of him. "Take a look, Rayleigh. Your little brother has made big news again."
"Oh?" Rayleigh raised his eyelids, adjusted his glasses, and took the newspaper. He read quickly, his gaze sweeping over the exaggerated words and pictures without a change in his expression. Only when he saw the description of Kyle's "Dragon Slayer" attack and the final bounty of over three billion did his fingers pause for a moment.
He picked up his glass and drank the amber liquid in one gulp.
"Heh heh, that guy…" Rayleigh put down the glass, looking at Kyle's calm profile on the newspaper. "He always uses the most direct method to shatter the 'rules' he can't stand."
Shakky exhaled a perfect smoke ring. "So, what's he trying to do? Give the World Government a warning before Roger's execution?"
"A warning? No, it's more than that," Rayleigh shook his head, his deep gaze seeming to see right through the paper to something much further away.
The reconstruction of Marineford was proceeding at full speed. Marines, their post-war dejection replaced by a fighting spirit ignited by humiliation, worked tirelessly. They were determined to build a fortress grander and stronger than ever before, to prove to the world that the bastion of justice would never fall.
"All fleets heading to the East Blue, double your patrol range! Raise the alert level to maximum!" a Vice Admiral roared from a newly built watchtower. "The execution ceremony in Loguetown must not be disturbed!"
The whereabouts of the "Wave Guiding King" were a top secret, to be investigated by CP agencies. But the bulk of the Marines' manpower and energy was now focused on two things: the impending end of an era in the East Blue, and the lingering threat of Kyle on the Grand Line.
The seas grew more restless. Countless ambitious pirates and desperate men, like sharks smelling blood, surged into the Grand Line. They might not find Kyle, but the breakdown of order caused by the "Dragon-Lion Rebellion" made the entire sea more chaotic.
The trajectory of fate, under the cover of all this uproar, was subtly deviating from its predetermined course. In all the chaos, no one noticed a small, quiet island in the calmest of the four seas, the South Blue. The island, named Baterilla, had no great pirates, no Marine bases, and not even a decent port. Its residents lived simple, peaceful lives.
The afternoon sun was warm and gentle as a pink-haired woman strolled slowly along the coastline. She carried a basket of fresh fruit in one hand, while gently stroking her swollen belly with the other, her face radiating a sacred, maternal glow.
The sea breeze blew a discarded old newspaper to her feet. She bent down to pick it up and saw the familiar, yet distant, face on the front page, along with the astronomical bounty. A hint of worry flickered in Rouge's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper feeling of gratitude and tenderness.
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