On the streets of Ambri Island, sunlight filtered through the gaps in awnings, casting dappled shadows across the bustling market. Takero had originally planned to find a dojo or an arena on the island where he could really stretch his muscles. After all, his entire reason for setting sail was to challenge strong opponents and search for Dragon Balls. Now that he was finally on land, he wanted to find a good place to train and maybe gather some information.
"Speaking of which, this island is really backward," Takero complained to himself, looking around. "Shanks said it was a prosperous place; he really has no taste." The houses looked like they were from the Middle Ages, nothing like the high-tech, thriving cities he had imagined.
"Sigh… I wonder when I'll be able to find Bulma…" he murmured.
Despite his complaints, the peaceful and lively scene made him slow his pace. The island's residents were busy tending to their stalls, and the sweet scent of tropical fruits filled the air. An occasional sea breeze provided a refreshing coolness. Feeling his mood lift, Takero strolled leisurely through the market, stopping sometimes to chat with vendors or sample the local snacks.
However, as he walked, he noticed a sharp change in the atmosphere around him. The once-bustling market seemed to have gone quiet. People began walking with hurried footsteps, their relaxed expressions replaced by a clear sense of tension and unease. Shop owners were no longer calling out to customers but were gathered in small groups, speaking in low, serious tones. They kept glancing nervously toward the end of the street.
Takero frowned, puzzled by the sudden, oppressive shift in the mood. "Hey, what happened?" he asked, walking up to a thin, pale man leaning against a wall and gently tapping his shoulder.
The man flinched violently and spun around in fear. He relaxed slightly when he saw it was just a kid, but the terror in his eyes remained. He glanced around nervously before whispering urgently into Takero's ear, "Little one, haven't you heard? The Celestial Dragons! The Celestial Dragons are coming!"
"Celestial Dragons?" Takero repeated, looking bewildered. "What are those?"
The man stared at Takero as if he were looking at a monster, unable to believe someone didn't know about the Celestial Dragons. He quickly suppressed his fear and explained in a hushed, panicked voice. "They're the descendants of the creators! The highest nobles of the World Government! They have absolute power! Even the Marines have to obey them! If you offend them, or even just make them a little unhappy…" His voice trembled as he made a throat-slitting gesture. "...you're finished! They won't even leave your bones behind!"
Takero listened silently for a few seconds, his dark eyes calmly watching the terrified man. "So what?" he asked, his tone completely flat.
"So, so what?!" The man was shocked by Takero's fearless ignorance. His voice rose before he fearfully lowered it again. "Hey! These are the Celestial Dragons, the people at the pinnacle of world power! You…"
Takero waved a hand dismissively, cutting him off. "I know about the World Government, but I don't plan on being anyone's dog. If those so-called Celestial Dragons dare to act arrogant in front of me…" A wild grin spread across his face, and his eyes sharpened. "...then they'll have no one to blame but themselves."
"You… are you crazy?!" the man stared in disbelief. Realizing Takero wasn't joking, the fear on his face turned to pure horror, as if he were seeing a walking disaster. "Madman! You're a complete madman! Well, good luck to you!"
He scrambled away as if fleeing a plague, dropping those last words as he disappeared into the crowd. That little madman was going to get him killed sooner or later.
Takero just shrugged, as if he'd just shooed away a fly, and continued walking. "I'll go look for a dojo or an arena on this island to see if I can get some system rewards."
He hadn't gone far when a sharp, piercing whistle cut through the silence, carrying a clear warning from across the island. "The Celestial Dragons are arriving! Everyone kneel and pay respects! The Celestial Dragons are arriving—!!"
Takero looked toward the sound and saw a massive, luxurious super-yacht sailing into the port on the other side of the island. It looked like a floating palace, its hull decorated with dazzling golden emblems. Flags symbolizing the World Nobles fluttered in the wind, and the ship's majestic presence seemed to command the very waves to be still.
"Ho, quite a show they put on," Takero whistled, a hint of playful mockery on his face.
Instead of panicking and hiding like everyone else, he continued his leisurely walk, creating a stark contrast with the residents who were frantically trying to get out of sight. Celestial Dragons? World Nobles? Takero didn't care about titles. As long as they didn't bother him, he had no interest in dealing with them.
However, after only a few steps, a thought struck him like lightning, and he stopped short. "Wait…" Takero rubbed his chin, the nonchalant look in his eyes quickly replaced by the excited glint of a predator that had just found its prey. "Since their status is so high… then the guards protecting them should be… very strong, right?" He unconsciously licked his lips as a great idea began to form in his mind.
At the same time, in another market across the island, Shanks sneezed loudly. "Ah-choo!" He was holding little Uta while picking out fresh fruit with his crew. The sneeze startled the baby, who opened her wide violet eyes and looked up at him curiously.
Benn Beckman glanced over, his voice steady as always. "What's wrong, Shanks? Catch a cold?"
"Nothing," Shanks said, rubbing his itchy nose. But his brow was slightly furrowed. He looked in the direction of the port where the Celestial Dragons' ship was docked, then at the nervous pedestrians hurrying past. He made a quick decision. "Beckman, tell everyone to hurry up. Finish the shopping and let's get back to the ship immediately. I don't want to get involved with those 'World Nobles'; it's too much trouble."
"Mm," Beckman nodded in understanding and immediately told the others to pick up the pace.
As he watched his crew move quickly, a strange sense of unease settled over Shanks's heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had overlooked something extremely important—something that was going to cause big trouble.
"Hiss~" Shanks drew a sharp breath, scratching his iconic red hair in frustration. "...What could it be? Why do I keep feeling a chill down my spine…"
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