Chosen by the God's Knights, and you'll become undying and unkillable!Blake scoffed. "Who are you trying to fool? Satan's ashes have been cold for ages."
Raise your strength to earn higher status!Blake idly played with his fingers. "My status is already plenty high. I don't need more."
Fight on the edge of life and death to increase your Haki!Blake jerked his head up. "And if I actually die?"
The people at the bottom suffer. Work hard—change the world!Blake looked genuinely confused. "What does their suffering have to do with me? If I change the world… what happens to me?"
Imu is too strong. Impossible to defeat!Blake visibly relaxed. "Isn't that what Luffy's for? I'll fight after he's done."
What makes you think you can take part in a battle between gods and demons?Blake curled his lip. "Me. I. Have. Cheats."
This is a cowardly Celestial Dragon. Drag him out!Blake struggled. "I object! Since when are Celestial Dragons not allowed to lie low?!"
***
Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1498.
A major event shook the world that year.
The Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, surrendered himself to the Marines. Under the World Government's order, he was escorted to Loguetown for a public execution—meant to intimidate every restless pirate still roaming the seas.
Of course, none of that had anything to do with Hilbert Blake.
Because he was one of the noble, great, untouchable descendants of the "gods."
In other words: a Celestial Dragon.
After sixteen years in this world, Blake felt he'd almost been assimilated by the Celestial Dragon lifestyle—its shamelessness, its excess, its complete lack of restraint.
He drifted awake from sleep. Before he could even speak, a maid with pale skin, a pretty face, and legs that seemed to go on forever approached, dropped to her knees, and bowed.
"Saint Blake, please allow me to cleanse your face."
Blake gave a soft, half-asleep hum. He didn't feel like talking.
The maid bowed again, then lifted a single-use silk cloth threaded with gold and began cleaning his face—so gentle it was almost reverent, as though she feared his morning mood more than death itself.
Blake wasn't the kind of Celestial Dragon who slaughtered servants for fun… but aside from the slaughtering, he'd still picked up plenty of the habits that came with the title.
And the maids in the Holy Land had seen enough coworkers executed over "small things" to learn caution as a survival instinct.
Once his face was washed, Blake felt more awake. With the maid's help he climbed out of bed—only for three more maids to appear as if summoned, moving in to dress him.
Even after more than a decade, Blake still sometimes had the distinct sensation that he was being raised into a useless, pampered piece of furniture.
Fine, he told himself. If they're going to ruin me, I might as well enjoy it. Half the people out there would kill for the privilege.
Having convinced himself, Blake accepted the service without guilt.
Dressed at last, he loosened his shoulders and gave the maid beside him an order.
"Nice weather today. I'm going down to the lower world for a bit. Go call a few CP agents to come with me."
"Yes, Saint Blake."
She bowed and hurried away.
CP—Cipher Pol—was, on paper, the Celestial Dragons' protective force. In reality, when a World Noble stayed inside Mary Geoise, CP didn't stand guard at their elbow. The Holy Land was secure enough… and there simply weren't enough agents to assign a personal bodyguard to every single Celestial Dragon.
Usually CP only accompanied them when they descended, especially if a ship was involved.
Sometimes, if a Celestial Dragon only planned to visit the Sabaody Archipelago, they didn't even bother bringing CP at all. Those idiots truly believed nobody on the seas would dare touch them.
Blake was going to Sabaody too.
But he had no intention of traveling with only a few maids and a handful of slaves.
That wasn't paranoia.
That was math.
In a world where the bar for "competent decision-making" was… low, stupid disasters happened all the time. Someone like Luffy could appear out of nowhere at any moment. Getting punched would be irritating—but if Blake accidentally revealed the wrong kind of strength and drew the attention of the God's Knights, that would be fatal.
Since the God Valley Incident, the Celestial Dragons' so-called "hunting competition" hadn't been held for many years. These days, the God's Knights recruited in a simpler way:
They selected Celestial Dragons who seemed to have combat potential.
And Blake?
Blake wanted to be the final boss.
Which meant he absolutely could not get dragged into the God's Knights and shoved onto a front line he never asked for.
Breakfast was an absurd spread—so many dishes it felt like a ceremony rather than a meal. Blake sampled everything once, more out of habit than hunger. A maid silently dabbed soup from the corner of his mouth as if he were a child.
Afterward, he changed into a "spacesuit," then pulled the bubble helmet over his head—the signature fishbowl that marked his status like a brand.
Outside, two masked CP agents were already waiting.
Beside them lay a "little giant" nearly eight meters tall, face pressed to the ground, a golden chair strapped to his back like a burden meant to break his spine.
Blake's personal ride.
"Let's go."
He sat down. The slave began crawling forward with excruciating care, headed first for Red Port.
Blake had lived in modern society in his previous life—he wasn't originally built for this. Even now, he couldn't butcher slaves without any psychological resistance.
But he understood another truth just as clearly:
If he wanted to move quietly, the best camouflage was to blend in.
…
Blake yawned.
"No wonder those morons are obsessed with entertainment. I'm bored enough to fall asleep."
No one dared respond. Blake hadn't expected them to.
At the World Government's private dock, guards in full armor knelt in two neat rows, faces hidden behind masks. Blake passed between them atop the crawling slave and entered the bubble gondola.
From tens of thousands of meters above the sea, the gondola descended slowly. Far below, a massive cruise ship waited—gleaming and extravagant.
Not some ridiculous "spaceship."
A luxury liner.
The first time Blake went out to sea, he had it built for himself. If he was going to descend more than once, he needed a dedicated vessel. How else was he supposed to display the "dignity" of a Celestial Dragon?
A few hours later, the Sanctuary docked at the Sabaody Archipelago.
Area 16.
A slave auction house.
"Two hundred million Beli."
The voice wasn't even loud—yet the entire auction hall fell into a dead silence.
The auctioneer's face snapped into a sycophantic grin. "Congratulations, Celestial Dragon-sama, on acquiring this mermaid slave."
Blake didn't even look at him. He turned and walked out.
Today's selection was disappointing. No Devil Fruits. No powerful pirate slaves.
The auction world can't lose Doflamingo, the same way the West can't lose Jerusalem, Blake thought dryly.
Still—buying a mermaid as an ornamental "fish" wasn't a wasted trip.
Ignoring the maid behind him coordinating the transaction, Blake left the auction house under the protection of two CP agents and wandered.
In Area 16, nearly everything revolved around slavery. In the bright shop windows along the streets stood slaves of every kind—some with perfect curves, some built like beasts—displayed like merchandise.
The first time Blake walked this road, it had shattered his worldview.
Now, he looked almost normal—calm, even faintly interested.
Then a blonde woman smiling behind a floor-to-ceiling window caught his eye.
"Huh… why does she look kind of familiar?"