A secret report circulated within the highest levels of the World Government. It detailed a recent incident on the Grand Line where Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp had clashed in a deadly battle with the infamous "Wave Guiding King," Iron Kyle. Garp had been pursuing the widow and last heir of the late Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
The report concluded that the confrontation ended with Kyle using his bizarre abilities to sink the entire island. He escaped with the target, and their current whereabouts were unknown. In the aftermath, Garp's reputation remained untouched, while all the pressure for the failure fell on Kyle—not that he felt any of it. Meanwhile, the very person at the center of the conflict began a new, quiet life in a place no one would ever think to look.
As for Kyle himself, after drifting at sea for several more days, he grew tired of the nomadic lifestyle. Freedom was nice, but it also brought constant trouble. It was time to find a place to settle down.
He chose the Sabaody Archipelago.
This unique island chain, formed from the colossal Yarukiman Mangroves, served as the final stop in the first half of the Grand Line and the only gateway to the treacherous New World. 1It was a chaotic melting pot of pirates, bounty hunters, nobles, and Marines, where information flowed freely. 2 A fragile balance between order and chaos had been struck, making it the perfect place to disappear in plain sight. Plus, he mused, he could be neighbors with Rayleigh.
Kyle strolled casually across the bubble-filled groves until he stopped in front of a detached villa in the 24th Grove Area. The house was built into a hillside, offering a wide, impressive view. Its design was grand, and several burly men stood guard at the entrance. They had the hard-bitten look of men you didn't trifle with. It was clearly the headquarters of some local underworld power.
Pleased with his choice, Kyle walked directly toward the main gate.
"Stop! Kid, this isn't a place for you to be wandering around," a guard with a scarred face said, holding out an arm to block his path.
Kyle didn't even look at him; he just kept walking forward.
"You're looking to die!" the guard roared in anger. He threw a punch, his fist as large as a cooking pot, aiming straight for Kyle's face.
But the fist stopped less than a centimeter from his nose. It wasn't because the guard had shown mercy. An invisible force erupted from where Kyle stood, sending a shockwave outward. The muscular man, who weighed over two hundred kilograms, was flung backward as if swatted by a giant, unseen hand. He screamed as he crashed into a distant wall, slumping to the ground, unconscious.
Throughout the entire exchange, Kyle hadn't even broken his stride.
The noise quickly alerted the people inside the villa. The main gate was thrown open, and a man in a flashy suit stormed out, leading a large group of armed subordinates. His most striking feature was a prosthetic jaw made of steel.
"Who dares cause trouble in my territory?" he bellowed, his voice loud and metallic. His steel jaw reflected the sunlight with a cold gleam. "Don't you know this place belongs to 'Iron Jaw' Caron?!"
Kyle finally stopped and sized him up. "Your territory?" he asked, tilting his head. His tone was perfectly calm. "Not anymore."
"Ha?!" Caron reacted as if he'd just heard the world's funniest joke. The men behind him laughed and sneered, drawing their weapons. "You ignorant brat! Chop him into pieces and feed him to the Sea Kings!" Caron ordered.
Just as one of his underlings was about to charge, a man wearing glasses, who looked like the crew's strategist, desperately pulled him back. The strategist's face was pale, and he was trembling like a leaf. He fumbled in his coat and pulled out a crumpled bounty poster, shoving it into Caron's hands.
"B-Boss… y-you need to see this…"
Caron impatiently snatched the poster. He took one look, and his entire body froze. The face on the poster was the same golden-eyed, black-haired young man standing before them.
The name read: 'Wave Guiding King' Iron Kyle. And below it, the bounty: 3,100,000,000 Berries.
The cigar dropped from Caron's mouth, clattering on the ground. His proud steel jaw made a strained creaking sound, as if it was about to fall off as well. One second, he was an arrogant gang boss; the next, his legs gave out from under him. He dropped to the ground with a loud thud, pressing his forehead firmly against the dirt.
"K-K-Kyle-sama!" he cried out, his voice shaking. "I was blind! I didn't recognize your greatness! I deserve to die! I truly deserve to die!"
His subordinates stared in shock for a moment before they understood. They scrambled to their knees, creating the spectacular sight of an entire gang prostrating themselves on the ground.
Kyle looked down at Caron, who was kowtowing so hard he was practically drilling a hole in the earth. His face remained expressionless.
"You know, I think I preferred your defiant look from before," Kyle said with a faint smile. "How about you go back to that?"
Caron's body trembled violently. With tears streaming down his face, he pressed his head even lower. "I wouldn't dare! I'll never dare to disrespect you again! This villa! No, all my properties in the entire 24th Grove Area, I offer them to you! Please, be merciful and spare my worthless life!"
Ignoring him, Kyle walked straight into the villa. "Take your men and get out of here. Don't let me see you again."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, Kyle-sama, for sparing my life!" Caron shouted, as if he had been granted a royal pardon. He and his terrified subordinates scrambled to their feet and fled the scene in a complete panic.
And just like that, the 24th Grove Area of the Sabaody Archipelago had a new, unspoken ruler.
Kyle's life finally settled down. He spent most of his days relaxing in his new villa, occasionally heading out to explore the island and experience the unique charm of the chaotic archipelago. He soon learned that while 'Iron Jaw' Caron and his crew were gone from his sight, they hadn't gone far. They had started calling themselves "Subordinates of the Wave Guiding King" and were using his name to intimidate rival gangs in other areas. Their influence was expanding even faster than before.
Kyle didn't pay much attention to it at first. Then one day, he read in the newspaper that the Yonko, Whitebeard Edward Newgate, had officially declared Fish-Man Island to be under his protection. 3
Sitting on a lounge chair on his balcony, Kyle stared at the photo of the legendary pirate laughing heartily. He was lost in thought. One person's strength had its limits. Influence, territory, and a powerful name… sometimes, those things were more useful than brute force. He also needed a base, a place he could always return to instead of drifting endlessly. Sabaody was a good choice.
A few days later, Caron was summoned to the villa. The gang boss trembled the entire way, terrified that he had somehow displeased the god of death who now owned his life.
"Kyle-sama…" Caron stood stiffly in the center of the living room, not daring to look up.
Kyle leaned back on the sofa, casually playing with a teacup. "I hear you've been making quite a name for yourself lately."
Cold sweat immediately beaded on Caron's forehead. "It's all because of your mighty reputation! I'm just… cleaning up some trash for you!"
"Is that so?" Kyle said softly. He lightly flicked the side of the teacup in his hand.
Crack!
Across the room, a completely different teacup sitting on the coffee table in front of Caron instantly shattered into dust. Only a single, razor-sharp shard remained, embedded deep in Caron's steel jaw.
Terrified, Caron fell to his knees again.
"My reputation doesn't need to be proven by bullying civilians or running disgusting slave businesses," Kyle's voice was completely devoid of warmth. "From today on, the underworld of the Sabaody Archipelago will have new rules." He paused, then added, "My rules."
He looked down at Caron, who was shaking uncontrollably, and slowly laid out his conditions.
First, human trafficking and slave auctions were completely banned. He couldn't control what happened in other places, but he wouldn't tolerate it here. The practice was disgusting.
Second, protection fees could still be collected, but there would be a strict limit. It was to be more like a tax for maintaining order, not a way to bleed merchants dry. After all, if the sheep starved to death, there would be no wool left to shear.
Third, all conflicts between different underworld groups would be mediated by Caron. From now on, the Sabaody underworld would have only one voice.
Caron listened to these new "rules" with a completely bewildered expression. This wasn't a gang; it was practically a government for the underworld. But he didn't dare object, nodding his head frantically like a pecking chicken. He knew this was his only chance not only to survive but to become more powerful than he ever dreamed.
Kyle didn't actually expect much. What kind of order could a small-time gang boss truly establish?
…
He had grossly underestimated Caron's potential.
Under Kyle's iron-fisted "guidance," the underworld of the Sabaody Archipelago was completely transformed in just two months. When Kyle next stepped out of his villa, the scene at his front gate almost made him think he had wandered into a different world.
The large, open space in front of his new home was filled with people. Dozens and dozens of them, all dressed in immaculate black suits with black sunglasses and polished black leather shoes. Their hair was slicked back so perfectly it shined like a mirror. They stood in neat rows on both sides of the path, forming a corridor with the villa's main gate as the center. They stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind their backs, their faces expressionless.
'Iron Jaw' Caron stood at the very front of the formation. He too was in a meticulously tailored black suit, and his steel jaw seemed to shine even brighter in the sun. As soon as he saw Kyle, he bowed a perfect ninety degrees, his posture as respectful as a royal butler.
"Kyle-sama, are you going out?"
"Yes, just for a walk."
"Understood!" Caron immediately understood. He began trotting behind Kyle, keeping a perfect distance—not so close as to be intrusive, but not so far that he couldn't hear a command. He turned slightly and gave a subtle hand signal to the army of men in black suits behind him.
When Kyle took a step, nearly a hundred gang members took a step in perfect unison. The sound of their leather shoes hitting the stone path merged into a single, thudding beat, like a drum marking a slow, imposing march.
Did Caron somehow misunderstand what I told him in a very, very strange way? Kyle wondered. He said nothing and simply continued walking.
Seeing that Kyle didn't object, Caron's courage swelled. He cleared his throat—a sound that, thanks to his modified jaw, had a slight amplifying effect.
"Attention, everyone!" he announced loudly and clearly. "Let's review the core principles of our 'Sabaody New Order'!"
Kyle stumbled, almost tripping over nothing. What the hell? Core principles?
Caron began to recite with a bizarre, rhythmic passion. "First! We must resolutely implement Kyle-sama's core ideology of 'One Center, Two Basic Points'!" He paused for effect. "Maintaining the peace and stability of the Sabaody Archipelago is our center! Combating human trafficking and reforming protection fees are our basic points! We will never waver!"
The hundred men in black suits roared as one: "RESOLUTELY IMPLEMENT!"
The sound was so powerful it shook the nearby bubbles.
Kyle said nothing, but he was starting to regret ever giving this man any responsibility.
Caron, however, was thrilled with the effect and grew even more enthusiastic. "Second! We must steadily advance Kyle-sama's grand strategy of 'Sustainable Development'! Protection fees are not exploitation! They are taxes that promote commercial prosperity! We must make merchants pay with peace of mind and confidence! We must eliminate short-sighted behavior that drains our resources!"
The men roared again: "STEADILY ADVANCE!"
Kyle mentally covered his face. Was this guy a World Government official in a past life?
Caron was completely lost in his performance. "Third! We will fully implement Kyle-sama's 'Three Disciplines and Seven Standards'! Discipline One: Do not oppress civilians! Discipline Two: Do not touch the slave trade! Discipline Three: Settle internal conflicts internally, without disturbing the public! Our enforcement will have warmth, our service will have speed, our kicks will have accuracy, our punches will have force, our manners will have grace, our thinking will have depth, and our resolve will have attitude!"
The men in black roared a third time: "FULLY IMPLEMENT!"
Kyle had given up thinking. He just wanted to find a hole to crawl into.
Finally, just as Caron finished his speech, they arrived at an open plaza. He abruptly stopped, turned to face Kyle, and snapped his heels together. Every man in black behind him did the same, their movements as precise as a military drill. Caron took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar.
"WE PAY OUR HIGHEST RESPECTS TO KYLE-SAMA!"
He threw his right arm up, his fist clenched and held horizontally across his chest in a salute. Nearly a hundred men mirrored his action perfectly.
"LOYALTY!"
"LOYALTY!"
"LOYALTY!"
The three shouts, each louder than the last, converged into a shockwave of sound that seemed to scatter the clouds. The sheer reverence and fervor in their voices filled the plaza, making the air feel heavy. They were no longer street thugs; they were a disciplined army with a single, unified will.
Kyle stared at the scene, which could only be described as performance art, and remained silent for a long time. He had to admit, though the process was so awkward it made his toes curl, the result… was surprisingly impressive. At the very least, their aura was enough to intimidate ninety-nine percent of the troublemakers on Sabaody.
He turned to look at Caron, who had an expression on his face that was practically begging for praise. His metal jaw trembled slightly with excitement. Kyle was genuinely pleased. He patted Caron's shoulder, a meaningful smile playing on his lips.
"Little Caron."
"Sir!" Caron bent his waist even lower.
"Well done," Kyle said, his tone calm and unreadable. "It's just… after walking all this way, I feel like your pants are a little loose."
"???"
Caron was stunned. Pants loose? He instinctively looked down at his tailored trousers. The waistband was perfectly secure. How could they be loose? Was Kyle-sama implying his attire wasn't proper enough? Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as his brain raced, trying to decipher the profound, hidden meaning behind that simple sentence.
Kyle watched him think so hard he was practically overheating, and the smile at the corner of his mouth grew wider. He extended a single finger and made a small, upward gesture, as if he were pulling on Caron's waistband.
"You should pull them up."
"!!!"
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