Marine G–5 Branch, conference room.
The air was as heavy as the sea before a storm. A Visual Transponder Snail was projecting footage onto the wall.
On-screen a boy burst from a curtain of smoke and spray. Midair, his naginata flared with a blinding sheen.
"Sound-Cleave, Exploding Phoenix Cry."
With a scream that seemed to pierce the lens, a phoenix-shaped shockwave detonated forward and struck a three-masted ship dead on. In the next heartbeat the stout hull came apart in a silent bloom of splinters and bodies.
Smack.
A bulging file pouch slammed onto the table.
Branch Colonel Brian's face had gone the color of iron. His thick finger looked ready to punch through the wood.
"The Great Axe Pirates. Captain's bounty six hundred thousand. Total bounties over one million Berries." His voice filled the quiet room, tight with rage. "Now, who is going to tell me why a no-name brat wiped them out in minutes, alone?"
No one answered.
The Marine officers stared at the frozen frame on the wall. The wild, unbowed look on the boy's face as he cut made their hearts lurch.
"Colonel." An intelligence officer forced himself to speak. "Based on survivor testimony and analysis of the footage, the target is a Devil Fruit user. Preliminary assessment suggests a Paramecia manipulating shockwaves or sound, or a special-case Logia."
"I do not care what case he is." Brian snarled. "I care that a rookie obliterated a fully armed pirate ship with a single strike. Power like that, potential like that, if we do not clamp down, he will be a massive threat."
Voices rose at once.
"His approach was strange. Walking on the sea. That is not a common ability."
"Effective range over a hundred meters, instant release. His development of the Fruit is advanced for a newcomer."
"Most important of all, he appeared on a ship with Roger and Rayleigh." A bespectacled rear admiral spoke, and the room went still.
Gol D. Roger. Silvers Rayleigh. Two names already drawing eyes across the sea. They rarely showed themselves, yet every move shook the world.
And now this monster of a rookie was sailing with them.
Brian's face darkened further. After a long silence he picked up a pen and scrawled across a blank bounty draft.
"Issue a wanted notice. Distribute to all branches and to the News Coo." His tone allowed no argument. "The world needs to know about this dangerous brat."
Days later a fresh bounty flapped from newspaper stalls all along the Grand Line.
On the poster a black-haired boy held a naginata midair, body arched in a perfect crescent. Sea wind tousled his short hair. There was no fear in his golden eyes, only a fighting will that looked ready to burn the world.
The frame had been caught by a distant Visual Den Den Mushi at the instant he unleashed Exploding Phoenix Cry.
WANTED
DEAD OR ALIVE
IRON KYLE
Bounty: 1,500,000 Berries
…
"Kuahahaha. Land at last. Supplies. Feast."
Roger planted a boot on solid earth and spread his arms, roaring his joy.
The hole he had punched in their wreck of a ship had been patched, re-patched, and bullied along by Rayleigh and Kael until it limped to the next island.
Ship status: burned out.
The place was a bustling trade island. The port teemed with life.
"I am buying rum and meat." Roger charged toward the town center.
"I will check charts and essentials." Rayleigh pushed up his glasses and veered for a different shop.
"As for me…" Kael's gaze roamed, then locked on a stall selling newspapers and bounty posters.
He was simply curious. Who else had made waves lately.
He wandered over and let his eyes skim the rows of posters pinned to the wall. Mostly crooked mugs with middling rewards.
He was about to leave when a brand-new sheet, the ink still glossy, snagged his attention.
Why did that face look so familiar.
Kael leaned in. When he saw the photo his pupils snapped tight.
Black hair. Gold eyes. A blade-swinging pose so cool it hurt.
Who is that. What a handsome bastard.
Oh. Me. That is fine then.
He yanked the poster down. His heart thudded loud and fast.
IRON KYLE. All those zeros. His mouth fought to keep from grinning.
"Not bad. Whoever took this knows their job," he murmured, chin in hand, thoughts already staging a one-man play. "Got my defiant, world-crushing kingly aura down cold. Only problem is, this shot is too good. If all the lovestruck girls see it, they will chase me every day. Just the usual for our esteemed readers." He sighed. "Being handsome is such a burden."
He admired his face a moment longer, then let his gaze drop to the number.
"One million five hundred thousand Berries."
His smile stalled.
"One point five million. That is it." He fumed inside. "You have got to be kidding. Look down on who. The special effects on Exploding Phoenix Cry alone cost more than that. And my wave-walking entrance with the style dialed to max. Does none of that count. Does the Marines' pricing department need replacing."
The vendor slapped up a few more fresh posters. Kael glanced over without thinking.
DEAD OR ALIVE
GOLD ROGER
Bounty: 15,500,000 Berries
Roger in the photo grinned like the goof from the next village over.
Kael's eyes slid to the next.
DEAD OR ALIVE
SILVERS RAYLEIGH
Bounty: 13,000,000 Berries
Rayleigh leaned on a rail with his usual calm, glasses catching the light.
"…"
Kael looked down at the mighty one point five million in his hand, then up at the double-digit millions over their heads. The paper suddenly felt very light.
He remembered Roger and Rayleigh were only in their twenties, the crew had only just formed, and there was no inflation in this era. The gold content of those numbers was terrifying.
"Kuahahaha. Kael. What has you so absorbed."
Roger's boom rolled up behind him. He came sauntering over with barrels of rum in one hand and a haunch of raw meat in the other. His eyes lit when he saw what Kael held.
"Oh ho. Your bounty. Kuahaha. Not bad, Kael. A poster already. One point five million. Sugoi."
Rayleigh joined them, took in the sheet, and a small smile tugged at his mouth as he adjusted his frames. "Looks like the Marines noticed your debut."
Kael looked at his two guardians wearing the identical look of proud parents, then at their ridiculous numbers, and felt a cold draft named gap blow straight through him.
He curled his lip and muttered, "Tch. What is so great about it. You just have one more zero."
People do not share the same joys and sorrows.