God Valley
At the edge of the New World lay a small island.
More than ten thousand civilians lived there. Due to its remote location, few outsiders ever set foot upon it. Life on the island was self-sufficient—simple, quiet, yet peaceful and happy.
In truth, it had never been called "God Valley." It was just an ordinary nameless island. Somehow, the title had begun to spread.
But everything changed a few days ago.
This modest island—never rich in resources—was selected by the Celestial Dragons.
More than twenty thousand slaves were transported there. Among them were members of rare races, powerful pirates, and criminals sentenced to death.
World Government ships had already sealed off the island completely. Not even a mosquito could escape. The dark cannon muzzles trained toward the land served as a constant reminder to the island's residents—
Something terrible was about to happen.
Mark was an ordinary fisherman who lived on the island. He made his living from the sea, and through hard work, his life had been decent. He was even engaged to a young woman from the island. His future had begun to look bright.
Hope made him work even harder.
He wanted to catch more fish—to give the woman he loved a better life.
But the World Government forces stationed there would not allow it.
Without warning or justification, they sank his fishing boat—his only means of survival.
For a man who had built everything with his own hands, it was devastating.
Mark stared at the warships anchored offshore, hatred burning in his eyes. He could not understand why they would do such a thing.
As usual, he came to the shore again that day, hoping the ships had finally departed.
Instead, he saw CP agents swarming onto the island. Confused, he watched as they deployed heavy artillery along strategic coastal points.
The massive cannons radiated a cold, merciless presence.
He swallowed hard.
Time passed. The sun climbed high overhead.
Then—
On the distant horizon, the silhouette of a fleet appeared.
The ships moved quickly. Within minutes, they were upon the island.
Mark stared.
An extravagantly luxurious fleet came into view—far beyond anything he could have imagined. The earlier World Government vessels had already cleared the docks.
The massive ships that arrived now were so lavish that even a single plank of wood looked worth more than Mark would earn in a lifetime.
He saw them disembark.
"Those people…"
Mark's pupils shrank.
He lacked experience, but even he could sense their extraordinary status.
Transparent glass helmets covered their heads.
They wore fitted combat suits.
Weapons hung at their waists.
And the CP agents—who had treated the islanders like dirt—were kneeling at their feet like obedient dogs.
A terrible unease seized Mark's heart.
Without hesitation, he turned and ran toward his fiancée's house.
He just wanted to see her one more time.
At that moment—
A crackle of electricity echoed across the entire island.
Then a voice followed, playful and amused.
"What a beautiful day! Welcome, everyone, to the World Nobles' Grand Celebration, held once every three years!"
"This will be a thrilling game—a stage to prove your valor!"
"Allow me to explain the rules!"
"There are ten rare-grade prey on this island! Each is worth 10,000 points!"
"Thirty excellent-grade prey! Each worth 6,000 points!"
"Five hundred uncommon-grade prey! Each worth 2,000 points!"
"And that's not all! Every remaining ordinary-grade prey on this island is worth 500 points upon elimination!"
"This grand competition is fully supported by the World Government! Nobles who place will receive lavish rewards! The top three will earn a precious nomination!"
"And the champion…"
"…will receive a top-tier Devil Fruit, along with a personal reward from Saint Jaygarcia Saturn!"
"I trust you are all ready?"
"Then we will begin the countdown! One hour of mercy—let these wretches run for their lives!"
Madness.
Utter madness.
The host of the event burst into wild laughter before raising his Den Den Mushi amplifier again.
"Oh, and one more thing! The ten thousand island residents are also worth 500 points each!"
"Did you hear that, you lowly insects? Run! Run as hard as you can! The last one alive will receive a magnificent reward!"
"This celebration will last one full week!"
"Do your best!"
The amplified Den Den Mushi carried his voice to every corner of the island.
Mark froze mid-run.
His body faltered, nearly collapsing.
His limbs trembled uncontrollably as he turned to look.
The last glimmer of hope in his eyes vanished.
What had he seen?
He saw the Marines—
Those who claimed to uphold justice and maintain peace across the seas—
They had encircled the island as well.
This…
This was hell.
On a Marine Warship
Even if they refused to look, they could still hear it.
The Celestial Dragons' laughter drifted across the water.
Sengoku shut his eyes in pain.
Garp clenched his fists so tightly that his teeth ground audibly.
The soldiers aboard the ship were pale, their eyes fixed on their two highest commanders.
There was confusion in their gazes.
A silent plea—
Was what they had just heard real?
"A-Admiral…"
One officer gathered the courage to speak, his voice trembling.
Sengoku opened his eyes.
"Listen carefully! Our mission is to remain in position, respond to any emergencies, and ensure the safety of the Celestial Dragons!"
"As for what you hear… what you see…"
"Do not let it enter your minds. You will follow orders. That is all."
"Understood?!"
The command was cold.
Merciless.
The last flicker of light in the soldiers' eyes dimmed.
They lowered their heads in silence.
The Celestial Dragons' laughter pierced their hearts like blades.
And yet—
They suddenly remembered a rumor.
The rumor of pirate forces mobilizing in the New World.
"Please… anyone…"
"Pirates, even pirates…"
"Stop this tragedy."
Someone whispered the prayer aloud.
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