The end of the first half of the Grand Line: the Sabaody Archipelago.
Formed from the colossal Yarukiman Mangrove, the world's largest red tree, its seventy-nine roots have given rise to seventy-nine closely packed islands.
Sabaody is a singular place. Nestled against the Red Line, it marks the final stop of the first half of the Grand Line. From here, there are only two ways into the New World: either pull strings and cross the Red Line through Mary Geoise, or coat a ship on Sabaody and descend beneath the sea to Fish-Man Island, passing through to the other side.
No other "normal" routes exist.
The archipelago is also directly under Celestial Dragon control, practically Mary Geoise's backyard. They often descend here for amusement—executing unlucky souls on a whim, seizing other men's wives, or purchasing slaves.
As the Grand Line's halfway mark, Sabaody is a magnet for scum from across the seas: underworld slavers, ruthless pirates, mafia families, and more. They cluster mainly on Islands 1 through 29, turning them into the notorious lawless zone, a place reeking of chaos and crime.
On Island 13, Ortoren strolled through that very zone, newspaper in hand.
It was utter bedlam. From the port to here, he'd already witnessed four gang battles—bloody, savage affairs. The sheer violence left him feeling deeply "intimidated." This place really was too wild.
But his attention wasn't on the brawls. It was on the paper, which carried news of a major event from the past two days.
The Sorbet Kingdom in the South Blue had fallen to the Self-Defense Army. Its leader, Monkey D. Dragon, had publicly announced in the press that his force would henceforth be renamed the "Revolutionary Army." The paper even carried their manifesto.
Pages of rhetoric, but the gist could be distilled down to: "We're overthrowing the World Government. We'll hang every Celestial Dragon in Mary Geoise and give the world back its light."
The declaration sent tremors through the world. Though no reports had reached him yet, Ortoren could already imagine the aristocrats of Mary Geoise seething with rage and terror.
Yet while Dragon and his Revolutionary Army had openly declared themselves enemies of the World Government, with the Celestial Dragons their explicit target, this was hardly unprecedented.
Ortoren was no longer the clueless newcomer fumbling through this world. He was now a Marine elite, professionally trained—and top of his class in the cultural subjects, no less.
From what he remembered, organizations like the Revolutionary Army had cropped up repeatedly during the World Government's eight hundred years of rule. Almost every century or two, some anti-World Government group would emerge.
And when Ortoren first learned that, he hadn't been surprised. That was only natural. If, in over eight centuries, only Dragon had rebelled, that would have been absurd—proof the World Government's rule was universally beloved.
But the truth was clear: Mary Geoise still stood unshaken, while every group that once swore to string up the Celestial Dragons had long since been erased. In every such struggle, the World Government had been the victor.
"So it won't be long before the Government rolls out countermeasures to suppress the Revolutionary Army. They've done this before..." Ortoren murmured as his gaze lingered on the photos printed in the paper.
The revolutionaries stared boldly into the camera, their faces on full display as though daring the World Government to come for them.
Front and center stood Garp's eldest son—Ortoren's ever-convenient scapegoat, Dragon.
Around him were several still-young figures who would one day command the Revolutionary Army's forces, as well as Dragon's co-founder, Ivankov.
But Ortoren's eyes were drawn not to them, but to two others: Ginny, radiant with a bright smile, and Bartholomew Kuma, his expression firm and resolute.
Sure enough, even though Ortoren had managed to divert much of Dragon's path, Bartholomew Kuma and Ginny still chose to join the Revolutionary Army.
According to the intel Ortoren had received, today's intended headline wasn't supposed to be about the Revolutionary Army at all—it was about the first Shichibukai.
Crocodile, the Desert King, who had once challenged Whitebeard Edward Newgate only to lose an arm and suffer betrayal from his own crew, had been invited to join the Shichibukai.
He became the very first Shichibukai!
This marked the official launch of the Shichibukai system—and another step down in the World Government's already crumbling integrity.
On its own, this should have been explosive news, enough to stir the seas. But compared to Dragon's Revolutionary Army, Crocodile's appointment was tame. After all, Crocodile wasn't about to stand up in the papers and shout about stringing up Celestial Dragons.
Just as Ortoren was skimming the articles, the Den Den Mushi in his pocket started buzzing.
Buru-buru-buru-buru~~~
Ortoren folded the paper shut, pulled out the snail, and raised a brow when he saw the caller. "Doflamingo?"
Without hesitation, he answered. "What is it?"
"Fufufufufu... Vice Admiral Benn, good afternoon. Did you catch today's papers?" came Doflamingo's unmistakable, grating laugh.
Ortoren chuckled. "I was just reading. Quite the spectacle."
"Yes, very entertaining. The world shifts by the day. If we don't adapt quickly, I'm afraid we'll be left behind in this age of chaos..." Doflamingo mused.
After a few pleasantries, he got to the point. "So, about the Shichibukai... how much do you know, Vice Admiral Benn?"
"Oh..." Ortoren replied with mock reserve before continuing, "The World Government plans to recruit seven pirates of sufficient strength and notoriety into the Shichibukai. The purpose is to harness pirate power to blunt the devastation of the Great Pirate Era. Think of it as 'using pirates to police pirates.'"
"And do you believe the title of Shichibukai has a future?" Doflamingo asked after a pause.
"Hehehe..." Ortoren let out two short laughs. "That depends entirely on who takes the seat."
Would it really be promising if someone like Gecko Moria ended up there?
Doflamingo smiled faintly. "Do you think I stand a chance? Am I a fit?"
"In terms of reputation and raw power, you're not quite there yet. To land a spot among the Shichibukai, you'll need to make waves—something big, something that proves your brutality. Until then, you don't measure up, Doflamingo," Ortoren told him plainly.
And it was true. Doflamingo might one day carry weight within the Shichibukai, but right now, he was nothing more than a small-time player.
This was why Crocodile looked down on him. Crocodile had been raising hell in the New World for years, even daring to challenge the Whitebeard Pirates while still young.
He'd lost, yes—but no one expected otherwise. Winning would've been the real shock. And that defeat didn't tarnish his reputation at all. After all, not everyone who challenges Whitebeard lives to tell the tale.
By that measure alone, Crocodile had already proven his mettle.
Compared to him, Doflamingo was just a punk from the North Blue. He hadn't pulled off anything noteworthy in the pirate world yet. Just as Ortoren said, his fame and strength weren't enough—he'd need to prove himself first.
On the other end, aboard the Flamingo in the New World, Doflamingo crouched beneath the mast, the Den Den Mushi pressed to his ear. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I see... so I still have much to work on."
"But personally, I think you're capable and shrewd. If you can claim a Shichibukai seat, it would suit you well... bring you plenty of benefits and backing," Ortoren added, giving him a push of encouragement.
Doflamingo felt a spark of satisfaction. This big shot clearly had faith in him.
But before he could offer a humble reply, Ortoren pressed on. "Still, your background complicates things. The nobles in Mary Geoise won't exactly be thrilled to see you thriving. The real obstacle to becoming a Shichibukai won't be the Navy. As your partner, if you show me enough value, I can handle the Navy's side. But the arrogance and prejudice of those lords in Mary Geoise—that's something only you can overcome..."
Even as he spoke, Ortoren's mind was ticking. Doflamingo was no fool—surely he could read between the lines.
Money was tight. If the Donquixote family was willing to loosen their purse strings, Ortoren had no problem "selling" a Shichibukai seat to Doflamingo.