On the ruins of God Valley, a temporary viewing platform built of gold and velvet gleamed with obscene extravagance.
Atop the platform, a Celestial Dragon in layered finery and a bubble helm Saint Topps stood with arms spread wide, declaring the rules of the "grand festival."
"Esteemed brethren! Welcome to our triennial tradition, the Great Purge Competition!"
The Celestial Dragons below lifted their goblets, giving scattered cheers.
"This year's venue, God Valley, has already been cleared for us! And now, the true delight begins: the hunt!" Topps pointed toward the plains, where massive iron cages stood in neat rows. "The rules remain as simple as ever!"
His voice sharpened, dripping with enticement. "Everything that moves inside the field is our 'rabbit.' Among them, we have prepared one hundred and fifty rare rabbits, each worth five hundred points. And… thirteen ultra-rare rabbits, hand-picked from across the world! Each one, ten thousand points!"
The crowd gasped greedily, eyes glinting.
"And to reward skillful marksmanship, any clean one-shot kill will grant double points! The contest will last three days! To the victor goes a prize beyond imagination!"
He drew out his last words, his twisted grin spreading wide. "I hereby declare the competition… begins!"
With a thunderous crash, the iron gates lifted.
Thousands of ragged slaves and surviving residents of God Valley spilled out like cattle driven from the pen, their faces twisted with despair.
For a heartbeat, they froze in confusion. Then someone screamed and bolted toward the forest. Panic exploded, spreading like wildfire.
"Bang!"
The first gunshot rang out. It came from young Saint Marcus, his ivory pistol spitting fire. A slave collapsed instantly.
"I hit him! Father, I hit him!" Marcus jumped up and down with glee.
"Well done, my son! But aim for the head. That's how you get double points," Topps encouraged warmly, his tone like a doting father rather than a monster.
The Celestial Dragons raised their weapons, firing haphazardly into the scattering crowd. They cared nothing for accuracy, only the thrill of ending lives with a squeeze of their trigger fingers.
Bullets tore through bodies, blood spraying as screams rose in a chorus of agony.
Unlike the Celestial Dragons' gleeful sport, the God's Knights moved like efficient machines of slaughter. Their blades cut with ghostly precision, every swing claiming multiple lives.
High above, on a cliffside chair, sat one of the Five Elders: Saint Jaygarcia Saturn. He held neither gun nor goblet, only a staff in his hand. His expression was unreadable, cold eyes observing the chaos below as if studying ants. There was no joy, no pity only calculation.
Deep in the forest, a group of slaves huddled in a muddy ditch, forcing their breath into silence.
A massive youth crouched at the front, shielding two others with his broad back. He was a young Bartholomew Kuma.
"Vee-haw! This mud's a nightmare! My perfect hair is ruined!" whispered a large-headed boy with thick lips. It was Emporio Ivankov, future commander of the Revolutionary Army.
"Shut up, Iva! You'll get us caught!" hissed a pink-haired girl with glasses. She was Ginny, the backbone of this ragged group.
Her gaze burned through the foliage toward the massacre. Fire blazed in her eyes. "The plan… must succeed."
"Are you sure the message got out, Ginny?" Ivankov's face tightened, his earlier playfulness gone. "Do you really think they'll come chasing some phantom treasure?"
"They will," Ginny said without hesitation. "For outlaws, nothing is more irresistible than the words treasure and Celestial Dragons together. They'll come. They have to."
It was their only hope. Better to unleash wolves upon this valley than be slaughtered like rabbits.
Kuma nodded quietly. He only wished to save as many innocents as possible.
…
Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
Commander-in-Chief Kong scowled at the confidential report in his hands, his temples throbbing.
The Rocks Pirates had mobilized in full force, their target: God Valley.
"They must be stopped." Kong slammed the file shut, rubbed his forehead, and seized the emergency transponder snail.
The snail mirrored his grim expression as the line dialed.
…
On a nameless tropical island, sunlight baked the beach golden, waves rolled with lazy warmth, and a man reclined in utter leisure.
"Crunch… crunch…"
Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp lounged on a beach chair, shirtless except for loud floral shorts, munching on rice crackers. His bronzed muscles gleamed in the sun.
"Buru-buru-buru…"
The transponder snail on the nearby stone table suddenly rang, its face mimicking Kong's severe square jaw.
Garp lazily reached for it, not even lifting his eyelids. "Yo, Kong. What's the fuss?"
The other end was silent for a moment.
"Garp," Kong's voice came low and firm, "end your vacation. Head to God Valley immediately."
"Huh?" Garp picked his nose with an annoyed look. "God Valley? That's just the Celestial Dragons' dumb school trip. With CP and the God's Knights guarding them, it's safer than Marineford. Why drag me into babysitting duty?"
He despised dealing with Celestial Dragons, finding them worse than pirates.
"This isn't a request. It's an order." Kong's tone hardened. "The Rocks Pirates are on the move. We believe their target is God Valley."
"The Rocks, huh?" Garp paused, finally sitting up, though his voice stayed nonchalant. "Strong bunch, sure. But those guards aren't pushovers. Let them chew on each other. What's it to me?"
Another long silence stretched from the snail. Garp thought the line had cut until Kong spoke again, his words like a depth charge.
"Intelligence indicates… the Roger Pirates are also heading there."
"Roger's there!? I'm going!"
In an instant, Garp shot off his chair like a cannon, clutching the snail tight. His eyes bulged like bronze gongs, his voice booming so loud the palm trees shook.
The snail mirrored Kong's faint twitch of amusement as he calmly added, "Coordinates have been sent to your ship's Log Pose. Garp, remember your priority is "
"Yeah yeah! Priority is to catch Gol D. Roger!" Garp cut him off, slammed the snail down, and tossed it into the sand.
He swung on his justice coat in a blur.
"Father, what's going on?"
A black-haired youth in crisp Marine uniform rushed over. Seventeen or eighteen, his clear eyes and sunny smile radiated vigor. He was Monkey D. Dragon, Garp's son.
"Oh, Dragon!" Garp grinned, scooping his son up by the back of the collar. "Don't just stand there. Time for exercise!"
"Exercise?" Dragon blinked, bewildered.
Without further explanation, Garp hauled him off toward the docked warship, ignoring his protests.
"Bogard! Wake up! Raise the sails! Full speed ahead!"
On deck, Bogard calmly adjusted his sunglasses and began giving orders, unfazed by his superior's antics.
Dragon dangled helplessly in his father's grip, his bright smile gone, replaced by a blank stare. "Dad! Where are we even going?!"
"To catch the freest bastard on the seas!"
Garp's booming laughter rolled across the waves as the warship surged forward, leaving only a churning wake and the abandoned transponder snail on the sand, still wearing Kong's stern face.
Snail: "Give me peanuts."
…
Meanwhile, on Hachinosu, the atmosphere could not have been more different.
The entire island boiled like a cauldron. Countless pirates roared, weapons raised high, the stench of liquor, sweat, and gunpowder thick in the air.
At the harbor, over a hundred ships with monstrous prows and varied flags crowded the bay, sails ready to catch the wind.
At the forefront loomed a colossal battleship, fortress-like in scale: the flagship of the Rocks Pirates.
On deck gathered figures destined to shake the world.
"Gurarara! Snatching from the Celestial Dragons? Now that's fun!" Edward Newgate polished his naginata, Murakumogiri.
"Uorororo! Hope they can put up a fight!" bellowed young Kaido, horns gleaming as he chugged a barrel of sake.
Charlotte Linlin, Shiki the Golden Lion, Captain John, Silver Axe, Wang Zhi… names that would echo in history, united under one banner, eyes burning with the same feral ambition.
And before them all, a shadowed figure stood still. His wild hair flared outward like fire, his abyss-dark eyes piercing through all.
Rocks D. Xebec.
He raised a single hand toward God Valley, his voice cutting through the uproar.
"Listen up!"
The pirates fell silent, their fanatic gazes locked on their tyrant.
"Gods are feasting, yet they did not invite us." A mad grin split his face. "So…"
"We'll flip their table and take everything they own!"
"OOOOOOOOHHHH!"
The roar shook the skies as the fleet of monsters unfurled their sails.
With ambition vast enough to topple the world itself, they surged forward.
A storm unlike any before was about to break.