Time flows like a river, washing away the old and carving out the new. In what felt like the blink of an eye, several years had quietly passed. The year was now 1509 of the Sea Calendar.
The North Blue was no longer the cruel, dark sea it once was. A new, overwhelmingly powerful force had emerged, centered around Ambri Island. Dozens of surrounding islands and their sea routes had been completely integrated into a single, cohesive territory. This region had blossomed into the most prosperous, safest, and most desirable commercial hub in the entire North Blue, and its influence was even felt in the first half of the Grand Line. People had given it a fitting name: the "Golden Empire."
The architect of this commercial miracle was none other than the man known as the "Golden Emperor," Gild Tesoro. In just a few short years, his Golden Commercial Group had swept through the North Blue's economy. Using the miraculous Omni-Capsules—a technology that completely revolutionized logistics—he monopolized the entire transportation industry. From there, the group's influence spread into every major field, including medical care, entertainment, security, and scientific research. Every single day, an unimaginable tide of wealth flowed from all corners of the world and converged on Ambri Island.
Wealth has a way of attracting trouble. Faced with such immense riches, it was only natural that some would harbor greedy intentions. Many pirates and arrogant underworld families tried to carve out a piece of the giant golden pie for themselves. But without exception, they were all taught a bloody lesson by a group known as the "Saiyan Guard."
No one truly understood what the word "Saiyan" meant. People only knew that every member of this elite guard practiced an incredibly powerful and mysterious martial art called Kame Senryu, which was said to surpass even the Marine's famous "Six Powers." To make them even more formidable, the scientific unit of Germa 66 custom-designed special combat suits for them, infused with futuristic technology. The combination of powerful martial arts and cutting-edge science produced a terrifying effect where one plus one was far greater than two.
After countless challengers were crushed, no one dared to openly challenge the authority of the Golden Group anymore. Of course, there was a more fundamental reason for this newfound peace: the existence of the true "King" who reigned over this empire like a living god.
He was formerly known as 'Strange Tail,' but was now hailed as the 'King of the North Blue,' Takero.
Everyone knew he was a monster of unbelievable power who had once defeated the former Marine Admiral "Black Arm" Zephyr and single-handedly destroyed a Buster Call fleet. Even the World Government, with all its might, now hesitated to provoke him. The number of pirate crews and underground organizations he had "casually" wiped out over the years was too high to count. If you ever found yourself in his sights, the best you could do was pray he was in a good mood that day. Over time, under the absolute military deterrence of the King of the North Blue, the public order of the entire sea had improved dramatically.
Today, Ambri Island was more bustling than ever. The central commercial street was packed shoulder to shoulder with people. Merchants, tourists, and adventurers from all over the world gathered here, filling the island with a festive and fervent atmosphere. Shops on both sides of the street were decorated with lanterns and streamers, while massive display screens continuously broadcasted exciting promotional videos.
"The Third World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament is about to begin!"
"Witness the birth of a king! Win a massive prize of one billion Berries!"
"The final champion will get the opportunity to join the Golden Group and earn the supreme honor of challenging the King of the North Blue, Takero!"
In an open-air cafe, two well-dressed merchants were sipping coffee and chatting excitedly.
"I never would have imagined it," the first merchant sighed. "Just a few years ago, this place was a chaotic island of crime. Now, it's the safest and most prosperous commercial center in the entire North Blue."
"You can say that again," the second merchant agreed with a nod. "It's all thanks to the management of the Golden Emperor, Tesoro. But the main reason, of course, is the presence of the King." Both men spoke the title with a quiet, shared reverence.
"Let's not talk about that," the first merchant said, changing the subject with an excited look. "There are only three days left until the tournament officially begins! My friend, who are you betting on this time?"
After several years, the reputation of the World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament had spread far and wide. It attracted newcomers trying to make a name for themselves and ordinary citizens who just wanted to watch a good fight. Taking a page from his memories of a past life, Takero had made several clever adjustments to the competition's rules and launched a vast betting industry around it, making the event even more thrilling for spectators.
"Me?" The first merchant smiled mysteriously. "I'm putting all my money on Ichiji!"
"Oh?"
"Does it even need to be said?" he explained. "Ichiji isn't just the captain of the Saiyan Guard's First Division; he's also said to be a disciple personally taught by the King of the North Blue himself! He was the champion of the last tournament, wasn't he? Betting on him is a sure win!"
However, his friend shook his head with a look that said, you're too naive.
"My friend, I'd advise you not to be so hasty with your bet," he said in a lowered voice. "I've heard that this year's competition is going to be fiercer than ever! A lot of truly skilled fighters have shown up. I even heard a rumor that... the Marines have secretly sent people to participate!"
"What?!" the first merchant exclaimed in surprise. "The Marines?! They still dare to send people here? Aren't they on bad terms with the King?"
"Who knows?" the second merchant shrugged. "Maybe... they have some other objective in mind."
As the two of them chatted, speculating about the upcoming tournament, a tall, imposing shadow suddenly fell over their table. A deep voice, tinged with caution, spoke from behind them.
"Um... excuse me..."
"...Do you know where 'Strange Tail' Takero... lives?"
The two merchants turned their heads in confusion. Standing behind them was a towering Fishman, over three meters tall, with red skin and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
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