East Blue – Loguetown.
Souta Kiryuu wore a simple mask he had picked up along the way, stepping out of his transparent state as he wandered the streets of Loguetown. His goal: to track down Bartolomeo, the Barrier-Barrier Fruit user.
It didn't take long to gather information. After all, this "Ogre" Bartolomeo's name carried weight here. He wasn't just a thug—he was the crime boss who ruled over more than a hundred towns and villages surrounding Loguetown. His sphere of influence was even greater than that of Arlong.
Most brazen of all, he had set up his headquarters—the Barto Club—right in Loguetown itself, openly disregarding Smoker and the Navy branch stationed here.
But then again, in this world, organized crime didn't technically fall under Marine jurisdiction. That was left to the kingdoms themselves. Smoker's focus, like most Marines, was solely on pirates—especially those who sought to enter the Grand Line.
Compared to pirates, gangs and bandits were nothing. In the eyes of this sea, they were worthless trash—weaklings who could never compare. Pirates, after all, were the true rulers of the ocean, the ultimate expression of violence, ambition, and defiance.
As Souta walked through the city, his masked face hidden from most eyes, he happened to pass by a familiar landmark—the execution platform of Gol D. Roger.
The towering scaffold, once meant as a warning, now stood as both a historical site and a place of pilgrimage. Souta stopped, staring at it for a moment before stepping past the ropes meant to keep visitors out. His feet carried him up, step by step, onto the very place where the Pirate King had once smiled before his death.
The Navy had intended for this scaffold to serve as a symbol of deterrence. Ironically, it had become the opposite—a beacon for dreamers. For pirates across the seas, it was sacred ground.
Every year, countless men and women landed in Loguetown, drawn here not by fear, but by reverence. They came to glimpse the platform where the Great Pirate Era began, to feel Roger's spirit, before setting out on their own voyages toward the legendary treasure.
Souta stood at the top, looking down at the masses below. Their chatter rose instantly—tourists, townsfolk, and even Marines whispering in alarm. The platform was strictly forbidden; anyone caught trespassing could be detained or even imprisoned.
But here he was, overlooking the crowd from Roger's very spot.
And honestly? It felt underwhelming.
"You used your death to ignite the Great Pirate Era," Souta murmured, gazing across the square. "It was a carnival for the ambitious, the greedy, and the corrupt… but it brought misery to countless innocents.
"I'll admit, Roger—you had courage, and a will to expose the truth behind the World Government's missing century. But in the end, your actions… were pitiful. You're not even comparable to Dragon."
His voice was calm, but his thoughts were sharp. He knew Roger's true goal had been to uncover the Void Century, yet what had he actually achieved? Nothing lasting.
If Roger had distributed the translations of the Poneglyphs… if he had broadcast the coordinates of Raftel to the world… the World Government would have suffered a devastating blow.
Instead, Roger had disbanded his crew, abandoned his power, and used the last of his life to travel to South Blue, to Baterilla Island. There, he left behind a child with Portgas D. Rouge—a child fated for tragedy.
Entrusting both mother and unborn son to Marine hero Garp had been the final mistake.
For Ace, life would forever be a contradiction: raised by a Marine, yet branded by the blood of the Pirate King. A shackle that no one could break. From the very moment Roger left him in Garp's care, Ace's doomed fate was sealed.
"Hey! You there! Get down! No one is allowed up there!"
A squad of Marines spotted the masked intruder and rushed toward the platform, rifles raised, shouting orders.
"Erahahaha!"
Souta laughed suddenly, and with a single pulse of Conqueror's Haki, the entire squad collapsed unconscious. But he hadn't targeted anyone else—he let the civilians and tourists remain, their wide eyes glued to him in terror and awe.
His overwhelming presence and booming laughter shook the entire town. Strong fighters hurried toward the square, eager—or terrified—to see the commotion.
From one side came Smoker, the white-haired Marine captain, roaring through the streets on his smoke-powered motorbike. From the other, the green-haired punk Bartolomeo rushed to witness the chaos.
Atop Roger's scaffold, Souta Kiryuu threw back his head and laughed, the sound rolling like thunder. The Great Pirate Era Roger had begun? To him, it was nothing. Souta would open a new age—an era of true domination.
With Smoker and Bartolomeo both arriving, Souta ripped the mask from his face, revealing his identity for all to see.
"My God!! It's him—the God-Slayer, Souta Kiryuu!!"
"The criminal who murdered a Celestial Dragon?!"
"He's worth three billion berries! What's he doing in Loguetown?!"
"Is he going to destroy the whole island?!"
Panic spread like wildfire. Some villagers and tourists screamed in fear, while others—pirates, dreamers, and journalists—were ecstatic, snapping photos and scribbling reports as fast as they could.
"Souta Kiryuu!! Step down from that platform! Leave Loguetown immediately!"
Smoker's voice cut through the uproar. His glare was unwavering, his voice firm—even though deep down, he knew he was staring at a monster he couldn't possibly defeat.
"Erahahaha!!" Souta's laughter was manic, his words echoing across the square. "The so-called Great Pirate Era Roger began? As Shiki once said—it's nothing but children playing pirates.
"ONE PIECE? The great treasure? Utter nonsense! Do you really believe a bunch of broke vagabonds like Roger's crew could have left behind anything of true value?!"
The crowd trembled under the sheer weight of his Haki. Black-and-red lightning crackled from his body, shattering the air. Smoker himself staggered, unable to even transform into smoke under the crushing force.
"Then what is it?!"
It was Bartolomeo who shouted, his green crest of hair standing tall as he screamed from the crowd, eyes blazing with fanatic devotion. "If not treasure, then why set sail?! What's the reason?!"
"Erahahaha!!" Souta roared back, his eyes wild. "Of course—to seek immortality! To seize ultimate power!
"On the Empty Throne in the Holy Land of Mary Geoise sits the true ruler of this world—a king who has lived for more than eight hundred years! His name is Nenarō Imu, one of the twenty monarchs who founded the World Government!
"Rise, all of you! Crush the Celestial Dragons! Destroy the Gorosei! Overthrow Imu—the so-called eternal king! Claim the secret of immortality! Claim the supreme power that belongs to no one but us!!"
His Conqueror's Haki erupted in a storm. Winds howled, lightning split the skies, and Loguetown itself shook as though it might crumble.
His words froze the world.
Smoker's eyes bulged, his jaw slack, the cigars falling from his mouth to the ground.
Immortality?
A king who had lived eight centuries?
Supreme power greater than any treasure?
Compared to this… Roger's "One Piece" seemed like a child's trinket.
"Wha—!!"
"This… this can't be real!!"
The town exploded into chaos. Reporters snapped frantically, intelligence agents raced to send word to their masters, and pirates stared with trembling anticipation.
And in the midst of it all, Bartolomeo's gaze burned brighter, filled with absolute worship for the man standing upon the execution platform.