[Some brothers noticed the timing of Shakky's capture is off; to clarify, in the manga she was caught thirty-nine years ago.]
[Here I did fold it into thirty-eight years ago, written together with the God Valley incident.]
[In truth it makes no real difference—just treat it as the butterfly effect of the protagonist's transmigration.]
[Mainly because a full year in between is too long and there's nothing to fill it; the manga itself skips it with a single line and jumps straight to 'one year later', so I simply combined them.]
[Props to that sharp-eyed brother.]
Now, let us raise a cheer for the dearly departed of God Valley, the great Saint Garling!
Thirty-eight years ago, West Blue, God Valley.
This small West Blue island, looking as though a single slash had split a mountain in two, was in fact an ancient nation with a long, long history.
It was said the islanders were descendants of an ancient people whose lineage stretched back hundreds, even thousands, of years.
Yet, due to the World Government's sensitivity toward ancient history, this remote speck in the West Blue remained virtually unknown to outsiders.
On this day… the rarely visited island welcomed many 'guests'.
Grarling! Thank goodness!
I always knew you'd come back!
In a quiet hamlet a beautiful, gentle woman briskly wheeled a pram out of her house to meet a splendidly dressed, cloak-wearing young man.
Tall and straight, the youth was strikingly handsome, radiating noble bearing.
His most eye-catching feature: hair curved like a crescent moon.
At the sight of him a blissful smile lit the woman's face.
The joy added a glow to her beauty.
The man before her—Garling was her husband.
A year earlier he had arrived on the island and they had met.
His looks and regal air soon swept her off her feet, and their love bore fruit.
Later, Garling eft on business, promising a swift return.
She had waited eagerly.
A year is not long, yet her longing never waned.
Now, seeing her husband return as promised, she almost wept for joy.
She hurried forward, caught his hand and drew him to the pram.
Inside, a baby gurgled at its mother.
She beamed: This is your papa—Shamrock, Shanks.
Her face shone with maternal light.
Garling did not bend; only his eyes flicked downward. His voice was flat: Twins. How… cute.
Yes! Shamrock and Shanks are twins!
She pointed at the two plump, adorable infants lying side by side. Aren't they lovely? I hoped you'd stay and help raise them…
Yet, meeting her hopeful gaze, Garling said coldly, No. Even if we lived together, it would not be here. This island will soon vanish.
Wh-what? Vanish? How?
Your bloodline is too base. Allowing you to bear my children was already my greatest charity.
Why…?
Thunderstruck, she stared at the man who had shared her bed; his voice was ice, and he felt utterly alien.
She wondered if it were a nightmare.
Until his frigid words came again.
I've already chosen a fitting wife and placed my bid. Winning this Competition will grant her to me.
My purpose here: win the contest and take these brats back to Holy Land Mary Geoise. As for you…
He lowered his head, drew his sword, and, before her disbelieving eyes, thrust.
The cold blade pierced her slender body; blood spattered as she staggered back with a stifled cry.
Inside the pram the giggling infants sensed their mother's pain and began to wail.
Watching her crumple, crimson soaking her chest, Garling's gaze stayed empty, as though she were a stranger.
With leisurely calm he pulled out a den den mushi.
Begin the overture of the Competition…
Meanwhile, beyond God Valley, warships cut through the waves, bearing down on the shore.
A small patrol vessel spotted them and raised a speaking trumpet—only to be rammed head-on.
Against a hundred-metre ironclad, the ten-metre skiff stood no chance; it shattered and sank in moments.
One after another, a dozen warships reached the docks.
Commanders roared, Land at once! Execute the World Government's supreme order!
Sir!
Thousands of Marines, tranquilizer darts and capture nets in hand, surged onto the island.
They made no effort to hide.
The sheer numbers soon drew the locals' notice.
Yet most felt only surprise, not fear.
World Government ships? Why surround us?
Probably after some vicious criminal.
Keep the children inside—those crooks are dangerous.
But puzzlement turned to dread as the islanders realized these warriors of 'justice' were charging straight at them.
Neighbors, young and old, were shackled the instant they were seized.
Anyone who resisted or tried to protect kin was shot—
not with lethal bullets, but with tranquilizer darts.