On the Grand Line…
A white-haired middle-aged man stepped off a merchant vessel that had just docked at a remote port. As he made his way toward the island's interior, a flurry of papers floated through the sky. He caught one instinctively.
It was a Wanted Poster.
He glanced at it absently at first, until his eyes locked on the face printed in bold ink. Instantly, his pupils contracted.
But just as quickly, the man's expression softened. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"So you're already causing trouble, huh? One hundred fifty million… You really are something, kid."
He chuckled and shook his head, the grin on his face widening. His pace quickened, boots tapping rhythmically against the path ahead.
"As expected of brothers," he murmured quietly.
…
Deep within the New World, atop an enormous floating island...
"ROGER!!"
A furious roar echoed through a grand palace hall.
A burly, golden-haired man, his face contorted with rage, violently kicked a lavish wooden table, reducing it and its matching chairs to splinters with a deafening crash.
Bang! Crash!
He stormed about like a rampaging beast, shattering everything in his path. His movements radiated sheer fury, but beneath the anger was something deeper: sorrow, frustration, and a pride that had just been wounded.
With each heavy step, his overwhelming presence flooded the room. His Conqueror's Haki, raw and unrestrained, rolled out like a tsunami, regal and suffocating, as though a lion king had declared dominion over all beneath him.
"Those pathetic Marines! There's no way they could've taken you down!"
"I don't believe it. I don't believe it. I refuse to believe it!"
The golden-maned man bellowed toward the sky, his voice reverberating like thunder.
All around him, subordinates bowed their heads in silence, trembling under the weight of his rage. No one dared speak. No one even breathed loudly.
"You bunch of useless fools! Ready the ship for Father, we're sailing to Marine Headquarters!"
His roar jolted the room like an earthquake.
"What?!" His crew blurted out in unison, stunned by what they'd heard.
"I said prepare the ship!" He barked again. "I want to see what kind of power the Marines supposedly possess to capture Roger!"
"I won't believe it until I see it with my own eyes! If they're that strong... then let them try taking me too!"
His shout was so powerful it carried through the palace like a storm wind. From afar, it sounded like the angry bellow of a lion shaking the heavens.
He stood proud, fierce, unstoppable, a titan among men.
"Shiki! Shiki!"
A new voice echoed as a tall figure burst into the room, his steps making a squeaky noise like a child's toy. He wore clown-like attire, complete with exaggerated patterns and bright colors.
He sprinted to Shiki, holding something in his hand, a Wanted Poster.
"Look at this!"
Shiki, towering over the others, looked down with narrowed eyes. Even in a moment like this, his aura was oppressive, his Haki still crackling faintly through the air.
This was the Golden Lion, still unbroken, still a conqueror untouched by defeat.
He had not yet suffered the tragedy that would etch itself into history. At this moment, he stood at his peak, his legend untarnished.
And yet… Roger was gone. Executed by the Marines.
Shiki clenched the poster tightly.
He couldn't accept it.
He knew Roger, his greatest rival. He knew the kind of strength that man possessed, the willpower, the madness, the brilliance. There was no way the Marines had truly captured him through force alone.
The man who had once bested him, the Golden Lion, had fallen to the Marines?
Ridiculous. Impossible.
It wasn't just Roger who had been condemned by that act, it was all of them. Every pirate who dared to defy the world. It was as if the Marines were proclaiming, "Even your kings can be broken."
It was more than humiliation, it was a declaration of supremacy.
And Shiki… Shiki was furious.
Within the Floating Island's grand hall, golden light poured from the high ceiling, reflecting off the piles of glittering treasure lining the chamber. Ornate structures, like a royal palace built from the spoils of conquest, shone brilliantly in every direction.
Outside the palace windows, a view both majestic and terrifying spread across the sky: dozens of floating islands, massive, ancient landmasses, hovered in midair, slowly rotating. It was as if the very heavens obeyed Shiki's command, held aloft by powers that defied natural law.
Each island was real, inhabited by civilians, pirates, and outlaws. Together, they formed a city in the clouds, so immense it eclipsed the sun itself.
From the sea below, anyone who looked up would feel as though they were gazing upon the realm of the gods.
This was Shiki's empire in the sky. A kingdom of dominance. A monument to power.
And at the center of it all stood the Lion himself, mane of gold, rudder for legs, his roar alone capable of shaking the seas and igniting terror across the world.
He wasn't just a pirate.
He was a legend. Like Whitebeard. Like Roger.
A relic of the old era, now crashing forward into the new, his sails catching the winds of change, yet his will unmoved by time.
The world may shift.
But Golden Lion Shiki... would never bow.
He couldn't afford to be swallowed by the rising tides of the era, not now. If the waves threatened to capsize him, then he would roar back, louder than ever. He would remind the world of his presence… and his power.
Glancing down at the Wanted Poster, Shiki furrowed his brow.
"Who is this guy?"
"The poster only has a name," The clown replied, hesitating before continuing. "The Marines didn't list anything else."
Shiki narrowed his eyes.
"I know what you're trying to say, he looks familiar."
"No… more than that," He corrected himself a beat later, his voice rising. "He really looks like Roger! Are you suggesting he's related to him?!"
The clown nodded so hard it looked like his head might pop off.
"Uh-huh, uh-huh! Exactly!"
That was precisely what he wanted to say.
Shiki exhaled, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
"If this were any other day, I might take the time to dig into who he is. But now's not the time. I've got more urgent matters to deal with. We'll table this for now."
His expression turned grim as he waved the clown off and strode through the wreckage of the room.
Then, his voice rang out, feral, commanding, hungry, as if his very breath could consume the air.
"Send someone to Whitebeard. I want to know what that old man is thinking. And notify all the pirate crews in this sea. Every last one. Tell them to gather, now!"
"I am about to start a battle the whole world will never forget!"
His thunderous declaration erupted from deep within his chest, echoing like a war drum. The sound alone seemed to roll across the skies, spreading over the ocean, piercing through the clouds, and shaking the hearts of those who heard it.
Golden Lion Shiki was moving against the Marines.
And within half a day, this explosive news had swept across the globe.
He didn't hide his intentions. He didn't lie low or strategize in the shadows.
No, this lion roared at the heavens, daring the world to stop him.
Elsewhere, in a different stretch of sea, aboard a colossal pirate ship...
A giant of a man sat at the heart of the deck, surrounded by towering warriors. Muscular men stood respectfully at his sides as the sea breeze whipped across the ship.
Clink, clink, clink,
He tipped his head back and chugged an enormous wine jug, nearly the height of an average man, in one smooth gulp. Afterward, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling contentedly.
His deep voice broke the silence.
"This kid… he's gotta be related to Roger."
(End of Chapter)
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