The desperate cry hung in the air of the quiet, sun-drenched beach, echoing with four hundred years of shame and hope.
"I can not die without confirming all the truth about my ancestor Noland!"
Imu stood perfectly still, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The two ape-like men, Masira and Shoujou, were frozen in a state of terrified readiness, expecting the dark-cloaked man to end their captain's life with a single, silent slash, just as he had done to everyone in Mock Town.
But the slash did not come.
Instead, Imu tilted his head slightly. A flicker of something that was not anger, not boredom, but a cold, ancient curiosity appeared in his glowing red eyes. He had erased truths from history, buried entire centuries in darkness, and built a world order upon a foundation of perfect, controlled lies. And here, on this broken-down island, was a man willing to die for a tiny, forgotten piece of the past. A man obsessed with proving that a children's fairy tale was, in fact, the truth.
How… interesting.
"Truth?" Imu whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost carried away by the gentle sea breeze. "What do you know of truth?"
He did not wait for an answer. He took a slow step forward. Masira and Shoujou tensed, but Cricket stood his ground, his heart hammering against his ribs. The world around Montblanc Cricket seemed to melt and distort. Imu's red eyes began to glow with a soft, hypnotic light. He was not looking at Cricket. He was looking through him, peeling back the layers of his life, his pain, and his memories, searching for the root of this stubborn, foolish dream.
The bright blue sky of Jaya faded, and the world dissolved into a swirl of images and sounds, pulling the narrative back, back through time, to a place of cobblestone streets and cheerful town bells, over four hundred years in the past.
Four Hundred Years Ago – The Kingdom of Lvneel
Montblanc Noland was a hero.
In his hometown, a busy but ordinary port in the kingdom of Lvneel, the return of his ship, the Gleaming Chestnut, was a cause for celebration. Children would drop their toys and run to the docks, their faces full of excitement, eager to hear what amazing stories their hero had brought back this time.
And Noland never disappointed. He would stand on the deck of his ship, his strong, kind face lit up with a joyful smile, and tell them tales of his adventures. He told them of the Island of Giant Insects, where butterflies were the size of horses and beetles were used as battering rams. He told them of the Singing Mountains, where the wind blowing through strange rock formations created beautiful, haunting music all day long.
Among all the adoring children, one boy's admiration shone the brightest. His name was Joseph. He was a small boy with big, curious eyes and a mop of unruly brown hair. Every time Noland returned, Joseph would be at the very front of the crowd, his gaze fixed on the adventurer as if he were the sun itself.
"Noland-sama!" Joseph would shout, his small voice full of hope. "Can you take me with you next time? I'm very strong! I can help!"
Noland would always laugh, a big, hearty sound that made everyone around him smile. He would lean down and ruffle Joseph's hair.
"Not yet, little one," Noland would say gently. "The sea is a dangerous place. You must grow big and strong first. But keep that adventurous spirit. It is the greatest treasure a man can have."
Joseph would be disappointed, but he would nod seriously. He would watch the Gleaming Chestnut sail away, promising himself that one day, he would be on that ship, sailing alongside his hero.
Years passed. Joseph grew a little taller, and Noland's adventures grew even more fantastic. Then, one day, Noland returned with a story that was bigger and more incredible than all the others combined. His eyes were wild with an excitement that was contagious.
He told the entire town, from the mayor to the smallest child, about an island on the Grand Line called Jaya. And on that island, hidden deep in the jungle, was a city that was made entirely of pure, shining gold. He called it Shandora. He spoke of its giant golden bell that rang with a beautiful sound, and of his new best friend, the brave Shandian warrior, Kalgara.
This story was different. It wasn't just a tale of strange creatures or magical places. It was a story of treasure. A story of wealth so immense it could make their entire kingdom the richest in the world.
The king of Lvneel, a greedy and ambitious man, heard the story. The idea of a city of gold filled his mind. He commanded Noland to lead a grand expedition back to Jaya to claim its riches for the kingdom. The king offered a great reward to any brave man who would join the crew.
The town was buzzing with gold fever. Everyone wanted to go. Among them was a man with kind eyes and familiar brown hair: Joseph's father. He was a simple carpenter, and he saw this as a chance to give his beloved son a life of comfort, a life without struggle.
"Father, you're going?" a now-teenage Joseph asked, his heart a mix of pride and fear.
"Yes, son," his father said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "When I return, we will be rich. You will never have to worry about anything ever again. Noland-sama will lead us. We will be safe."
Joseph wanted to go more than anything, but he was still too young. He stood on the docks and watched the grand fleet of ships sail away, his father waving from the deck. He waved back until the ships were just tiny specks on the horizon, his heart full of hope for his father's glorious return.
Months turned into a year. The town waited eagerly. But the ships did not return. Then, one day, a single, battered ship limped back into the harbor. It was one of the king's ships. The men on board were thin, sick, and their eyes were full of a terrible, haunted look.
The news they brought was like a black poison that spread through the town.
The journey to the Grand Line had been a nightmare. Terrible storms had sunk half the fleet. Strange sea monsters had attacked them. A horrible sickness had spread through the crews. Hundreds of men had died.
And one of them was Joseph's father.
Joseph's world shattered. His kind, loving father was gone. But the worst news was yet to come. The survivors said that when they finally, after all that suffering, reached the island of Jaya, there was nothing there. No city of gold. No giant bell. Just a broken island and a wild jungle.
When Noland and the king finally returned, the entire kingdom turned on him. The grieving families of the men who had died screamed at him, calling him a murderer and a liar.
Noland stood before the king, his face pale but his voice steady. "I swear it was there!" he insisted. "Shandora is real! Something must have happened to it!"
But no one believed him. The king, shamed in front of his people and having lost a fortune on the failed expedition, declared Montblanc Noland the greatest liar in the history of their kingdom.
Noland was sentenced to be publicly executed.
On the day of the execution, the entire town gathered in the main square. Joseph stood in the crowd, his heart a cold, heavy stone in his chest. He watched as his former hero was led to the platform. He saw Noland look out at the crowd, his eyes searching, a look of profound confusion and sadness on his face.
"The city of gold… is real…" Noland whispered, just before the blade fell.
But Joseph did not see a hero being wrongfully killed. He saw the monster who had murdered his father with a beautiful, enchanting lie. His adoration had turned into a deep, burning hatred that would define the rest of his life.
Joseph grew up. He was a smart man, and he learned how to write. He took all of his pain, all of his anger, and all of his hatred, and he poured it into a book. He called it, "Noland the King of Liars."
The book was a massive success. It was a thrilling, tragic, and very convincing story. It told the tale of a charming con man who could make anyone believe his fantastic stories, and whose greatest lie led to the deaths of hundreds. The book became a bestseller all over the world. It became especially famous in the North Blue, where children grew up reading it in their Childhood.
Joseph's book did more than just make him rich. It cemented Montblanc Noland's terrible reputation for all of history. He had turned his personal tragedy into the world's truth.
Thirty Years Ago – The Same Town in Lvneel
The world had moved on, but in Noland's hometown, the shame was a permanent stain. And no one felt that stain more than the Montblanc family.
A young Montblanc Cricket walked through the schoolyard, trying to make himself as small as possible. He could hear the whispers. He could feel the stares.
"There he is," a boy would whisper to his friends. "The great-great-great-great-grandson of the King of Liars."
Then the teasing would start. A group of older boys blocked his path.
"Hey, Cricket," the leader sneered. "Tell us a story. Tell us about the city of gold. Or did a giant sea monster eat it? Hahaha!"
"Leave me alone," Cricket muttered, trying to push past them.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" they chanted, shoving him back and forth. "Your whole family is a joke!"
This was his life. Every day. The book, "Noland the King of Liars," was required reading. His own ancestor was the villain in the stories his teachers read to the class. He had no friends. Every mistake he made was blamed on his "liar's blood." The mental assault was constant, a slow, grinding pressure that was meant to break his spirit.
He grew up lonely, angry, and filled with a deep, confusing shame. Did he come from a line of liars? Was he destined to be a failure too?
The breaking point came when he was a young man. He had fallen in love with a girl from the town. For a little while, he was happy. He thought maybe he could have a normal life. He asked her father for permission to marry her.
The father, a respected merchant, just laughed in his face.
"My daughter? Marry a Montblanc?" the man said with disgust. "Marry into the family of Noland the Liar? Absolutely not. I will not have my family name associated with such shame. Get out of my house."
Cricket's heart broke. He realized in that moment that he would never be free in this town. The ghost of his ancestor would follow him forever. He could either accept his fate as a joke, or he could do something about it.
That night, he went to the old, neglected statue of Montblanc Noland that stood in a forgotten corner of the town square. He stood before the stone face of his ancestor, a face that looked sad and misunderstood.
"I don't know if you were a liar or not," Cricket whispered to the statue, his voice thick with emotion. "But I can't live like this anymore. They all laugh. They all point fingers at us. They all think we are a joke."
He clenched his fists, a new, hard determination in his eyes.
"I will find out the truth," he vowed, his voice growing stronger. "I will go to the Grand Line. I will find this island called Jaya. And I will find your city of gold. I will find proof. And one day… one day I will come back here and I will prove to all of them that you were not a liar. You were a hero! Just you wait!"
Cricket left his town that night. He became a pirate, not because he was a bad person, but because it was the only way for a man with no money and a shamed name to get a ship and sail the most dangerous seas in the world. He followed the old, faded maps in Noland's logbook, which his family had kept hidden for generations.
The journey was long and hard. But finally, he found it The Jaya.
When he arrived, his heart sank. It was just as the survivors had said: a broken, crescent-shaped island. There was no sign of a golden city. For a moment, he felt a crushing despair. Had he been a fool too?
But then, as he studied Noland's maps more closely, he realized something. The maps showed a skull-shaped island. The island he was on was only the bottom jaw of that skull. The rest was… gone.
The story could be true.
He decided to stay. He started diving, searching the seabed around the island for any sign of the lost city. He met Masira and Shoujou, two other outcasts who were also searching for the romantic dreams that the "New Age" of pirates made fun of. They were dreamers, just like him. They understood his quest. They formed the Saruyama Alliance, their shared belief in forgotten legends binding them together.
And so, his new life began. A life of dangerous, back-breaking work. Every day, he would dive deep into the ocean, the immense pressure crushing his body, risking the sickness that divers called "the bends." He found some gold artifacts from the ships that had sunk 400 years ago, but no proof of Shandora.
Years passed. His body grew weaker, but his dream never faded.