"Well then, let's see for ourselves what this so-called Human Auction House really looks like!"
Rosinante raised his head, a cold sneer curling on his lips as his eyes locked onto the enormous sign boldly declaring 'Human Auction Hall No. 1'.
"The Celestial Dragons are here!"
"The Celestial Dragons are here! Make way, make way!"
Just as Rosinante was about to step forward, a commotion broke out beside him.
He glanced to the side and saw people immediately dropping to their knees, foreheads pressed against the ground.
A group of figures slowly approached, leading the disturbance.
At the forefront was a middle-aged man, perhaps in his forties or fifties, with a trimmed beard and a face of utter arrogance. He wore the distinctive outfit of a Celestial Dragon—complete with the transparent bubble helmet over his head.
In one hand, he leaned on a jewel-encrusted staff; in the other, he gripped a chain. The chain's end was fastened around the neck of a ferocious, muscular man—a beast of a human who trudged forward like a captured monster.
Behind the Celestial Dragon marched several attendants and armed guards, all in the ornate uniform exclusive to the nobles of the Holy Land.
The man lifted his chin high, completely ignoring the crowd prostrated before him—as though their worship was no more than his due.
"It's Saint Rozwald!"
"Saint Rozwald came to Auction Hall No. 1 today?"
"Then there must be something good up for sale!"
"Ha! Even if there is, what's that got to do with you? You dare compete with a Celestial Dragon for slaves?"
"Well, you never know… Saint Rozwald has a hobby of collecting pirate captains, after all. Look at the man chained beside him—that's the captain of the Great Bear Pirates, Bewick! He used to have a bounty of 230 million berries and was known as the Battle Bear! But he got beaten in the New World, captured, and ended up here for auction!"
"I remember that! Saint Rozwald paid five hundred million berries for him!"
"Shh! Shut up! He's coming! You trying to get us killed?!"
Those kneeling on the ground whispered frantically.
Rozwald had already drawn near—but suddenly stopped.
His expression darkened.
Because, right before him, stood a group of people—upright.
Someone was actually blocking his way.
Not kneeling. Not even stepping aside.
They simply stood there, as if the arrival of a Celestial Dragon meant nothing at all.
It was unprecedented. Unthinkable.
Rage flared across Rozwald's face like an erupting volcano.
"Who are these insolent fools?! They dare stand in front of a Celestial Dragon?! They should be groveling!"
"Hey! Get down! You'll get us all killed!"
"Saint Rozwald looks furious!"
"They're done for! They're dead for sure!"
The crowd's panic rippled through the street. Everyone stared at Rosinante's group—standing tall at the gate—while dread spread like wildfire.
"Mere humans dare stand before me? How outrageous! Kill them all! Let them know that the gods are sacred and untouchable!" Rozwald roared.
At his order, his armed guards raised their weapons—gleaming spears and muskets pointing directly at Rosinante and his crew.
"Your Majesty, allow me to stretch my muscles," Enel said, his trademark arrogance dripping from his grin.
"I don't mind," Rosinante replied coolly, "but… someone else might."
"Hm?" Enel tilted his head toward the sky.
A beam of golden light burst above them—gathering, condensing—then descended, forming into the shape of a man.
A tall figure appeared, wearing a yellow-striped suit and the Marine's white justice coat, a lecherous smirk twisting his lips.
"Well now… looks like it's quite lively here," the newcomer drawled. "Oh? We meet again, young man. And—oh my, isn't this Saint Rozwald himself?"
In a flash, Borsalino—known to the world as Kizaru—landed lightly between Rosinante's group and Rozwald, positioning himself as a barrier between the two sides.
"What incredible speed… A Logia-type user?" Enel remarked, grinning wickedly.
"One of the Marine's three Logia 'Monster' Admirals—Borsalino, wielder of the Glint-Glint Fruit," Rosinante said evenly. "So don't underestimate the Marines or the World Government, Enel."
"Whoa, three Logia users in the Marines? Impressive! Truly the mightiest force on the seas," Enel chuckled.
"Haha, young man, if you keep flattering me like that, I might just blush," Borsalino said with a lazy smile.
"Borsalino, perfect timing! Kill these insolent humans at once!" Rozwald barked, his face twisted with fury.
As one of the Marines stationed permanently at the Holy Land of Mariejois, Borsalino was, of course, known to Rozwald.
But the Admiral only scratched his chin and sighed, his tone light but sharp as glass.
"Ah, that won't do, Saint Rozwald. I can't fight this particular fellow… Even if I could, I wouldn't dare. You see, he's the captain of the Gray Nation—and once, like you, a Celestial Dragon himself. The former World Noble, Donquixote Rosinante."
"What…? A former Celestial Dragon?"
"This man… was once a Celestial Dragon too?!"
"I remember now! Over ten years ago, the Donquixote family—Homming and his kin—renounced their status and were expelled from Mariejois!"
"The Gray Nation—that's the pirate crew that attacked Marine Headquarters not long ago!"
"And the one who shot down the Celestial Dragon's guards… that was his subordinate!"
"What's someone like him doing here?!"
The crowd was in utter shock.
"So, Your Majesty," Enel said, raising an eyebrow, "you used to be one of these so-called gods? Are Celestial Dragons really that powerful?"
"Hmph… That was a long time ago," Rosinante replied quietly.
"Rosinante, eh? You're the Donquixote brat of the Homming family, aren't you?" Rozwald said after a pause. "Well, since it's you, I'll overlook this. You may have been stripped of your title, but you still carry divine blood. You're not like these common humans."
Borsalino exhaled softly, relief flickering across his face.
He'd come here for one reason—to prevent bloodshed.
Before departing, Sengoku had ordered him personally: Stop Rosinante before Garp and Tsuru arrive. Don't let him harm a Celestial Dragon.
If a fight broke out, even he wouldn't be able to protect them.
But just as Borsalino allowed himself a sigh of relief—
Rozwald's voice cut through the air again, venomous and sharp.
"However… weren't you the one who attacked my guards and shot my slaves last time, Donquixote Rosinante?"
The words hung heavy in the air—like a spark poised to ignite the explosion that everyone feared most.