Chapter 1: Who Are You?
The end of the year 1506 in the Sea Circle calendar.
Punk Hazard.
Located in the second half of the Grand Line, the island belonged to the World Government and served as a prison for dangerous criminals. It was also one of the research bases of the world's greatest scientist, Dr. Vegapunk.
But Vegapunk wasn't on the island now. The one in charge was another scientist, known in certain circles as the "supreme authority on weapons of mass destruction"—Caesar Clown.
Aside from him, only a few dozen researchers and a small security team remained on the island.
The defenses seemed weak, but they were more than enough. Very few dared to raid a World Government facility, and Caesar Clown himself was a powerful Logia-type Devil Fruit user.
Only…
In the vast sea, there are always ambitious people who know how to seize even the smallest opportunity.
A tiny piece of gravel slipped into the laboratory through a ventilation duct.
Then came more grit…
Then sand.
"Crocodile?!"
In the main lab, Caesar stared at the man standing before him.
The man had a hunched posture, a horizontal scar across his face, a single gold earring, and a cigar clenched between his teeth. He wore a fur-lined coat, and where his left hand should have been, a menacing golden hook gleamed instead.
It was none other than Sir Crocodile, the "Desert King." He had risen to infamy only a few years prior, his formidable strength earning him a place among the World Government's Shichibukai.
Caesar didn't understand. Why was he here?
The Shichibukai were "legal pirates," granted special status and certain rights to plunder by the World Government. Several seats were still vacant. They had no reason to raid a Government research facility!
"Hehehe… What should I say?"
Crocodile chuckled softly, carefully choosing his words.
Just then, two more security guards burst into the lab, spotting the intruder. Without hesitation, they lunged, blades flashing toward Crocodile's back.
Swish! Swish!
Their swords passed through nothing but cascading sand.
This was the power of the Logia-type Suna Suna no Mi, the Sand-Sand Fruit.
Crocodile's sandy form solidified. He grabbed one guard by the throat. In an instant, the man's body withered, all moisture sucked away, leaving a desiccated husk. The second guard didn't fare any better, swallowed by quicksand erupting from the floor.
Caesar watched, a cold knot forming in his stomach. He was a Logia user too, but he was a scientist, not a fighter. He couldn't win against a battle-hardened pirate like this.
His only recourse was to invoke a greater authority.
"Sand Crocodile," Caesar said, forcing confidence into his voice. "Do you want to be hunted by the World Government again?"
"No."
"I only came to… borrow some secrets quietly. But I seem to have stumbled upon something far more interesting."
Crocodile's eyes were shadowed. He raised his gaze, fixing Caesar with a low, mocking smile.
"Caesar… is it? If word got out about my little visit here, you'd be the first one they came for, wouldn't you?"
"…"
Caesar's face went rigid.
"W-What are you talking about?"
"Enough of the act!" Crocodile's voice turned grim. "You've been smuggling something to this island. Behind the World Government's back. Behind Vegapunk's back."
"I… I don't know what—"
"Don't you?" Crocodile cut him off, his hook glinting. "You found something at the bottom of the sea. Where Ohara in the West Blue used to be. And you brought it here to study in secret. Am I wrong?"
Caesar broke into a cold sweat. His hands trembled slightly. Without another word, he slammed a button on the console, activating the island's intercom.
"False alarm! There are no intruders! Everyone, return to your posts!"
"Yes, sir!"
The sounds of rushing footsteps outside ceased. The remaining security forces stood down.
Caesar was left breathing heavily, the look on his face one of sheer dread.
Because Crocodile was absolutely right.
Ohara.
Once a renowned archaeological sanctuary in the West Blue. Erased from the map by a Buster Call after its scholars were discovered researching the forbidden Void Century.
The very name "Ohara" was now a taboo on the seas. Anything or anyone connected to it was marked for annihilation by the World Government.
And Caesar Clown was no saint. His resume included illegal weapons research, banned chemical agents, and whispers of human experimentation. He was skating on very thin ice.
Recently, his private salvage team had discovered something… unusual… on the submerged ruins of Ohara.
Not history texts. Something else. Something he felt held immense potential.
He had it secretly shipped to Punk Hazard, Vegapunk's abandoned lab, the perfect place for clandestine study.
He had just begun his analysis when Crocodile smashed his way in.
And Crocodile was right about the other thing, too. Caesar couldn't report this breach. His own crimes were far worse.
"Hehehe… I thought this trip might be a waste," Crocodile mused, taking a long drag from his cigar and blowing the smoke toward Caesar. "Turns out it's getting interesting. Why don't you show me this secret of yours? If I'm not impressed, I'll be on my way."
What are you interested in? Caesar thought desperately. Of course, it was Pluton, one of the legendary Ancient Weapons. Crocodile was known to be searching for it. And Ohara, the archaeological holy land… anything from there could be a clue.
Caesar met Crocodile's unwavering stare. He couldn't fight. He couldn't flee. Cooperation was his only path.
He forced a wide, jittery grin. "Whoaahahaha! I didn't expect a mighty Shichibukai like the Sand Crocodile to be interested in scientific endeavors!"
"Spare me the flattery." Crocodile's surrounding sand stirred ominously.
"Alright, alright! I'll show you!"
Swallowing his pride, Caesar walked to a seemingly blank section of the wall. He pressed a hidden panel. With a heavy rumble, a thick reinforced door began to slide upward, revealing a hidden chamber.
His grin was shaky now. "To be honest… the first time I saw this, it sent a chill down my spine."
"Oh?"
Crocodile was intrigued. Caesar Clown was a notorious figure in the underworld, a merchant of death who designed weapons to wipe out armies. What could make him tremble?
Rumble…
The door fully retracted, exposing the object concealed within.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed.
A Poneglyph?
The Poneglyphs were indestructible stone blocks inscribed with ancient text, the keys to the lost history.
But he quickly dismissed the idea. The object before him was a massive cube of the same dark, impervious stone, but its surface wasn't covered in writing.
Instead, it featured an exquisitely carved human sculpture.
"A Poneglyph stone… with no text. Just a person carved into it?" Crocodile murmured, stepping closer.
The sculpture depicted a young man, nearly three meters tall. His arms were spread slightly, his legs straight and crossed at the ankles. He was captured in a pose of serene, powerful readiness.
Crocodile had an eye for art. He could tell immediately—this was a masterpiece. The finest sculptor in the world would struggle to replicate its perfection.
Every detail was flawless. The expression, a calm certainty. The posture, naturally powerful. The muscle definition, realistic and dynamic. It radiated a primal, effortless sense of strength.
"Whoaah… It's a magnificent discovery, isn't it?!" Caesar whispered, his scientific fervor momentarily overriding his fear. He was a scoundrel, but he was also a researcher. A human figure carved into Poneglyph material? How was it done? Why was it made?
And most importantly…
Who was he?
"…"
Even Crocodile was briefly silent, his cigar forgotten. He'd come to blackmail a rogue scientist for an edge, a new weapon or secret. Instead, he was staring at a mystery carved in ancient stone.
Fear? No.
For a man of ambition, mystery was just opportunity in disguise.
"So…" Crocodile's voice was low, his eyes tracing the sculpture's face. "Who is he? Who deserves to be immortalized in a Poneglyph?"
"There's a line of script beneath it," Caesar said, relaxing slightly now that he was playing the role of informant. "Likely a name. But I can't read the ancient language."
"…"
Crocodile stepped forward, squinting at the single line of text carved below the figure's feet. He sounded out the words, his voice a quiet rumble.
"Who… Are… You?"
"…"
"I am Vergil."
A third voice spoke.
For a heartbeat, neither man moved. The voice hadn't come from either of them.
Then, in unison, Crocodile and Caesar jolted, cold dread shooting down their spines. Their eyes snapped toward the source.
The sculpture's eyes were open.
Fine stone dust sifted from its lips as they moved.
"I am Vergil," it—he—repeated, the voice slightly rough, as if unused for centuries.
His stone pupils shifted, scanning the two stunned men before him.
"What year is this?"
(End of Chapter)
🤗If you enjoyed this chapter, please add it to your collection and
keep supporting the story 💖✨
Bonus Chapter on 50 Power Stones ❤️