'New Star Pirate Force Hell Pirates Obliterates Ice Island!'
'Breaking News: Rookie Crew of Three Destroys Entire Nation in Single Night!'
'From Unknown to Unstoppable: The Hell Pirates' Meteoric Rise!'
The headlines screamed across newspaper stands throughout the North Blue, each publication competing to capture the magnitude of what had transpired. The Hell Pirates, who had only recently emerged from obscurity to challenge the established order, had once again hurled a massive stone into the supposedly calm waters of the North Blue's political landscape.
Ice Island had commanded genuine respect among the region's maritime powers, not through wealth or diplomatic influence, but through the kind of raw military capability that forced even ambitious pirates to seek easier targets elsewhere. Nations with weak defensive capabilities typically became pawns in larger conflicts, their territories carved up by criminal organizations seeking to manufacture profitable warfare.
But Ice Island had earned its fearsome reputation through generations of systematic conquest and an entire population conditioned for warfare from birth. Their martial culture produced warriors whose individual capabilities rivaled professional soldiers, while their collective military strength had successfully expanded their territory across multiple neighboring islands.
Yet this formidable kingdom, one that should have required months of bloody siege warfare to conquer, had been completely obliterated in a single night by three individuals.
What shocked the outside world wasn't just the scope of destruction, but the impossible speed with which it had been accomplished. Traditional conquest involved systematic weakening of defensive positions, prolonged battles of attrition, and careful coordination of multiple assault forces. The Hell Pirates had bypassed every conventional limitation through the simple application of overwhelming individual power.
The political ramifications proved equally staggering. Intelligence reports confirmed that the Kingdom of Scan had somehow managed to forge an alliance with these dangerous criminals, trading their national sovereignty for survival against impossible odds. The skull-and-throne flag of the Hell Pirates now flew prominently over Scan's royal capital, marking their transformation from independent nation to pirate-protected territory.
Such arrangements were virtually unprecedented in the Four Blues. Throughout the North Blue's violent history, only one figure had ever wielded sufficient influence to establish such comprehensive control over sovereign nations, the Heavenly Demon Doflamingo himself.
The fact that an unknown rookie crew had accomplished in weeks what typically required decades of careful political maneuvering sent ripples of concern through every major power structure in the region. If the Hell Pirates could subjugate established kingdoms through simple application of force, what did that mean for the complex web of alliances and territorial agreements that maintained the North Blue's fragile stability?
More troubling was the crew's obvious growth trajectory. What had begun as a three-man organization had expanded to include Yurivich, the legendary "war weapon" whose supernatural combat capabilities had terrorized the northern maritime coordinates for years. His recruitment represented more than simple numerical expansion; it demonstrated the Hell Pirates' ability to attract and retain exactly the kind of elite talent that separated major powers from ambitious pretenders.
Speculation about their ultimate objectives dominated conversations in every criminal haven and government office throughout the North Blue. Would they challenge Doflamingo directly for control of the region's lucrative illegal markets? Were they positioning themselves for eventual entry into the Grand Line's more dangerous waters? Or did their ambitions extend beyond conventional piracy into territories that even seasoned observers couldn't predict?
The World Government's response proved both swift and telling. Updated bounty notices reflected their assessment of the Hell Pirates as a genuine threat requiring serious attention rather than routine criminal suppression.
Hell Pirates Bounty Updates:
Captain: Hell King - 50,000,000 Berries
Officer: Night Walker - 30,000,000 Berries
Crew Member: Ghost Messenger - 18,000,000 Berries
Combatant: War Weapon Yurivich - 45,000,000 Berries
The astronomical sum placed on Yurivich's head despite his recent debut as a pirate spoke volumes about the intelligence community's assessment of his individual threat level. Even as a kingdom's military asset, his capabilities had warranted extensive governmental attention. Now, operating without the restraints of national allegiance, he represented exactly the kind of uncontrolled variable that kept World Government strategists awake at night.
On the ice-scattered waters of the northern North Blue, the Hell Pirates' vessel drifted through grey swells beneath an overcast sky that promised more snow before evening.
The frigid air bit at exposed skin with vicious intensity, transforming each breath into visible clouds that dissipated quickly in the howling wind. Standing at the bow like a monument to patient menace, Yurivich's towering form was wrapped in a black cloth cloak that covered him from head to toe. Even with his enhanced physiology generating supernatural body heat, the North Blue's extreme climate demanded some concessions to comfort.
Behind him, Dom gripped the ship's wheel with practiced hands, his enhanced senses scanning the horizon for potential threats or opportunities. The bandages that wrapped his form provided little protection against the bitter cold, but his transformed constitution made such discomfort merely annoying rather than genuinely dangerous.
They had received word through their network of intermediaries about another potential contract, an island kingdom plagued by internal rebellion, whose royal family was desperate enough to hire notorious pirates for domestic security operations. The irony wasn't lost on any of them; their systematic destruction of Ice Island had somehow enhanced their reputation as problem-solvers rather than problem-creators.
The North Blue's complex political landscape created opportunities that would have been unthinkable in more stable regions. While their conflict with the Donquixote Family had theoretically made them pariahs among criminal organizations, the reality proved far more nuanced. Money talked louder than political loyalty, and the Hell Pirates had demonstrated exactly the kind of overwhelming force projection that made inconvenient alliances profitable.
The shadowy organization that facilitated these contracts took substantial commissions for their services, but their extensive networks and local knowledge provided value that justified the expense. Oboro had always intended to establish relationships with such groups, attempting to operate independently in unfamiliar waters would have wasted precious time that could be better spent on recruitment and reputation building.
"Interesting," Dom murmured, his enhanced vision detecting movement on the northwestern horizon.
A pirate vessel had appeared in the distance, its course clearly aimed at their position rather than following any random navigation pattern. As the two ships drew closer, the approaching vessel's distinctive characteristics became increasingly apparent.
The enemy craft was smaller than their own flagship but compensated through aggressive militarization that spoke to serious combat intentions. Artillery pieces bristled from every conceivable mounting point, while reinforced metal plating covered the hull, bow, and side panels. Even the vessel's keel had been armored to withstand ramming attacks, this was a ship designed for war rather than commerce or exploration.
What immediately captured Dom's attention was the vessel's flag arrangement. Multiple banners bearing the Donquixote Family's distinctive jolly roger flew from various positions, creating an unmistakable declaration of allegiance. But the primary flag hanging from the main mast displayed an unfamiliar design that suggested this crew operated under their own identity while claiming Family protection.
"Doflamingo?" Dom muttered, confusion evident in his voice.
The tactical situation didn't align with his expectations. If the Heavenly Demon had personally traveled to the North Blue to deal with their challenge, such movement would have triggered headlines throughout the region's information networks. More importantly, locating their specific position in the vast expanse of northern waters would require intelligence resources that should have taken weeks to organize.
Yet here was a vessel displaying Donquixote colors, approaching with obvious hostile intent despite the reputation for devastating retaliation that the Hell Pirates had recently established.
"He's not Joker," Oboro's voice carried clearly from behind him, his calm tone suggesting he'd already analyzed the approaching threat. "Just a small-time pirate operating under Doflamingo's protection."
Oboro's enhanced perception had easily identified the figure standing prominently on the enemy vessel's bow, a blonde-haired young man whose posture radiated the kind of arrogant confidence that marked dangerous fools throughout the maritime world. Crossed arms, leather vest, bare chest despite the frigid climate, and sunglasses that reflected the weak afternoon light with pretentious flair.
"King, do you know him?" Dom asked, his tactical mind already working through response options.
"A little fanboy of Doflamingo's," Oboro replied with sardonic amusement, recognizing both the face and the psychology behind such theatrical posturing.
Bellamy the Hyena, one of the North Blue's self-proclaimed rising stars whose recent appearances in criminal publications had focused more on his boastful declarations than his actual accomplishments. The Bellamy Pirates had been making noise about their impending departure for the Grand Line, though their captain's obvious hero worship of the Heavenly Demon suggested motivations that transcended simple ambition.
Clearly, this encounter wasn't coincidental. Bellamy had sought them out deliberately, possibly as some misguided attempt to earn recognition from his idol through eliminating competitors. Such thinking was characteristic of small-time pirates who mistook publicity for genuine power.
"You two can handle this," Oboro decided with casual dismissal, already turning away from what he considered a minor distraction.
"A vanguard sent by Doflamingo?" Dom mused, watching their captain's retreat with growing understanding.
This made tactical sense from the Heavenly Demon's perspective. Rather than personally hunting down every challenge to his authority, he could delegate such tasks to ambitious subordinates seeking to prove their worth. If Bellamy succeeded, the problem would be eliminated without requiring Doflamingo's direct involvement. If he failed, the loss of a single minor crew would be acceptable collateral damage.
Before Dom could formulate additional strategies, the massive figure beside him had already moved into action. Yurivich stepped forward onto the bow with predatory grace, his leg muscles coiling as he prepared for the kind of direct assault that had become his trademark.
The transformed warrior's weight immediately created stress fractures in the reinforced wooden deck, spider-web patterns spreading outward from his position as the ship's structure struggled to contain forces it hadn't been designed to withstand.
"Hey, hey, hey," Dom called out with growing alarm, "be gentle with the ship! This is our only transportation, if you wreck it, we'll all be swimming in these freezing waters."
His protests carried genuine concern rather than mere complaint. While their vessel could withstand normal maritime stresses, Yurivich's enhanced capabilities operated on scales that could easily overwhelm conventional construction materials. Without a dedicated shipwright to handle constant repairs, structural damage could leave them stranded in some of the North Blue's most dangerous waters.
Dom immediately spun the wheel hard to port, angling their ship away from the direct collision course that the enemy vessel seemed intent on following. The Bellamy Pirates had clearly planned to resolve this confrontation through ramming attacks rather than artillery duels.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Cannon fire erupted from the approaching pirate ship, muzzle flashes painting the grey afternoon in brief bursts of orange light. The shells whistled overhead, most falling short due to the increasing distance that Dom's evasive maneuvering had created.
"Hell Pirates!" Bellamy's voice carried clearly across the water, his tone brimming with the kind of theatrical menace that impressed exactly no one with genuine combat experience. "Your lives will be harvested by me, the mighty Bellamy!"
The declaration had barely finished echoing across the waves when Yurivich's patience finally expired.
CRACK!
The bow section where he'd been standing erupted in a shower of splinters as his enhanced leg muscles launched him skyward with explosive force. His massive form shot through the air like a projectile fired from some impossible cannon, the sheer power of his departure leaving a crater-like depression in their ship's forward deck.
"Damn it!" Dom screamed in fury, watching their primary means of transportation suffer additional structural damage. "I told you to be careful! When this thing breaks down completely, we'll have to fix it ourselves, and we don't even have a qualified shipwright!"
His voice carried the exasperated frustration of someone who had already witnessed too many examples of his crewmate's tendency to solve problems through overwhelming force regardless of collateral damage. Yurivich's approach to conflict resolution consistently prioritized immediate effectiveness over long-term practical considerations.
Above them, the black-cloaked figure soared through the frigid air with predatory grace, his massive sword gleaming as afternoon light caught its steel edge. The distance between the two vessels, which should have provided safety for normal combatants, meant nothing to someone whose enhanced capabilities allowed him to treat the ocean itself as merely another battlefield.
The Bellamy Pirates watched his approach with expressions that shifted rapidly from confident aggression to dawning horror as they realized what was about to land on their carefully armored vessel.
CRASH!
Yurivich struck the enemy deck with the force of a falling meteor, his impact sending shockwaves through their ship's reinforced hull while creating a spider web of cracks that spread outward from his landing point. Several pirates who had been manning nearby artillery positions were launched into the air by the tremor, their screams cut short as they plummeted into the icy waters surrounding both vessels.
What followed was exactly the kind of one-sided slaughter that had earned him his fearsome reputation throughout the northern maritime coordinates. His massive blade carved through the Bellamy Pirates' ranks with mechanical efficiency, each swing claiming multiple lives while their desperate attempts at resistance barely managed to slow his advance.
Dom watched the massacre unfold with professional appreciation, noting how Yurivich's fighting style had evolved since his transformation. The wild, instinct-driven attacks remained, but now they carried supernatural power that turned every movement into a potential killing blow.
Within minutes, the heavily armed vessel that had approached with such confidence was reduced to a floating charnel house. Bodies littered the deck in grotesque arrangements, while the survivors cowered behind whatever cover they could find.
Only Bellamy himself remained standing, his spring-based Devil Fruit powers allowing him to bounce away from attacks that would have dismembered normal opponents. But even his enhanced mobility couldn't indefinitely postpone the inevitable confrontation with someone whose reach and strength operated beyond conventional limitations.
"This is impossible!" Bellamy screamed, his voice cracking with disbelief as another desperate spring-powered assault was casually swatted aside. "I'm a Devil Fruit user! I'm destined for the Grand Line!"
His protests were answered by Yurivich's rumbling laughter, a sound that carried all the warmth of grinding tombstones.
The war weapon had found exactly the kind of challenging prey that his enhanced nature craved, and he intended to savor every moment of the hunt that was about to reach its inevitable conclusion.
In the distance, Dom continued his efforts to minimize the damage to their own vessel while observing the battle with mixed emotions. On one hand, Yurivich's effectiveness in eliminating threats was undeniably impressive. On the other hand, his complete disregard for anything except immediate violence promised to create ongoing logistical challenges that would fall on Dom's shoulders to resolve.
Such was life aboard a ship crewed by monsters who viewed conventional limitations as merely obstacles to be overcome through superior force. The Hell Pirates were becoming exactly what Oboro had envisioned, a collection of individuals whose capabilities transcended normal human boundaries.
The question was whether they could maintain their vessel long enough to reach their next destination, or whether Yurivich's enthusiasm would leave them stranded in the North Blue's unforgiving waters.