Night fell over the Sabaody Archipelago.
On Island 30, inside the amusement park zone, a huge temporary stage blazed with lights. Tonight was the joint concert of Uta and Brook.
White Ghost didn't go.
Kuro didn't go either.
Everyone else did.
Outside the venue, huge crowds lined up for ticket checks, most of them hardcore fans of Soul King Brook and Soul Songstress Uta.
"Hey, did you hear?"
"This is Soul King and Soul Songstress's last concert on Sabaody!" a burly man said, face full of tragedy.
"Nani?!"
His friend froze. "What do you mean, last? I thought this was just a normal tour stop!"
"I heard after this show, the Soul King and Soul Songstress are gonna travel the world. A global tour. One performance per place."
The big guy sniffled. "They even announced it—they want to bring joy to people living in hardship…"
"Uu—Uta-chan… she's so amazing…" The big guy suddenly burst into tears. "She donates all the profit from every concert… who knows how many suffering people she's helped!"
"Yeah…"
Around him, other tough men started sniffling too, until a whole cluster of musclebound grown men were openly sobbing together.
The staff at the gate could only stare helplessly. This happened at every show.
"Hey, hey, hey! Are you guys getting your tickets checked or not?" a staffer finally snapped. "If you're not going in, don't block the line!"
The instant he spoke, those five-big-three-thick idiots straightened up like soldiers, forming a neat queue and obediently handing over their tickets.
At the back of the line, the Red-Haired Pirates watched with raised eyebrows.
"These guys are… that obedient?" Benn Beckman muttered.
No helping it. Uta had once said in an interview that she liked "polite guys."
Ever since, this whole troop of meatheads had been on their best behavior, hoping that if they were "good boys," they might one day get Uta-chan's autograph.
Soon it was Shanks's turn at the ticket gate. After his ticket was checked, the staffer looked up and asked politely:
"Hello, would you like to buy the official concert goods?"
Shanks glanced over.
Rows of glowing light sticks with Uta and Brook's logos.
T-shirts. Hats. Headbands. All branded.
"Can we not buy them?" Benn asked casually.
The temperature in the line dropped.
"Hm?"
Dozens of thick-necked men and other fans turned their heads in unison to glare at him.
Benn froze. "…What?"
"Hey, you!" one mountain of a man barked. "You got any idea where the money from these goods goes?"
Benn scratched his head. "First time here. Enlighten me, big bro?"
The atmosphere relaxed a notch.
Since he was a newbie, they'd cut him a little slack.
Even so, that pack of hulking fans—all in Uta/Brook merch, light sticks in hand—stared down the Red-Haired Pirates with solemn faces.
"These goods—every Berry of profit gets donated," the big guy said gravely.
"It goes to regions where people are suffering. Uta-chan and Lord Brook are that kind. Of. People."
He jabbed a finger at Benn. "If you don't support that and you're just here to freeload off their music, get out."
Benn's mouth twitched.
Shanks burst out laughing.
"Hahahaha! Alright, alright. We'll buy. How's it sold?"
The staffer slid smoothly back into his professional smile.
"Light sticks are 10,000 Berries each. If you'd like a full set—light stick, T-shirt and hat—"
Shanks looked at the set, looked at his crew, then just waved.
"One full set each."
As the one holding the purse, Benn felt his heart physically hurt.
"Which bastard designed this pricing…" he muttered. "One set is a hundred thousand, our whole crew is… that's three million Berries gone in one breath…"
Once they entered, the crew fell silent.
The whole arena was a sea of Uta/Brook merch. Almost everyone had the full set: shirt, hat, light stick.
Benn even spotted that same crying-musclehead squad from outside—now sitting in a block together, all in matching Uta outfits, waving their sticks and chanting:
"Uta-chan is number one!"
On the other side, fans in full Brook gear were yelling back:
"Soul King! Soul King!"
Soon both factions rolled up their sleeves, ready to brawl just to prove whose idol was better.
Seeing how insanely popular Uta had become, the Red-Haired Pirates could only smile bitterly.
After everything that had happened between them, they'd parted ways. Uta probably still believed they'd abandoned her.
"Let's go cheer her on too," Shanks said, grinning as he slipped back into his usual carefree self.
"For Utaa!" Benn roared, raising his light stick.
"FOR UTA!" the crew bellowed back, charging like they'd just discovered their new religion.
They dove straight into the Uta-chan side of the arena.
As they moved in, another group entered the hall through a different gate.
Garp's colleague, Vice Admiral Gaji, and Headquarters' "flower" Vice Admiral Gion, both in casual clothes, handed over their tickets.
The moment Gaji stepped inside, he yelled at full volume:
"Uta-chan is number one!!"
Naturally, he was instantly absorbed into the Uta fan-horde like a drop into the ocean.
Gion watched him go with an expression of pure disgust.
She found a quieter seat off to the side and sat down gracefully, determined to pretend she knew none of these idiots.
Originally, seats were assigned by ticket number.
Then some Uta fans started shouting, "All of Uta's believers should sit together!"
Brook's fans weren't about to lose face, and demanded their own block.
Now the arena was neatly divided into two fan armies glaring at each other… and occasionally singing along in perfect harmony.
In the churn of bodies, Shanks and Gaji eventually bumped straight into each other.
They both froze.
Shock flashed through their eyes.
Then, at the exact same time, they turned their heads away and pretended nothing had happened.
Shanks thought: This is Uta's show. I'm not making a scene here.
Gaji thought: I'm off-duty. I'm not Sakazuki. I don't get paid enough to ruin this concert.
When the last of the audience had been shepherded in, the venue lights suddenly dimmed.
The roar died instantly.
Everyone knew—
It was starting.
A single spotlight bloomed at center stage.
There she was: Uta, standing tall. A cute, fresh-faced fifteen-year-old. Good food and training had done their work—about one-sixty tall already, long legs, bright eyes, radiating energy.
"Uta-chan! UTA-CHAAAAAN!"
A horde of massive grown men screamed her name like devoted cultists.
"Good evening, everyone!"
Uta waved at the crowd with a sunny smile.
The front rows almost went into cardiac arrest on the spot.
Hearts in their eyes, all those "big rough guys" were fanboying so hard it looked painful.
At Uta's gesture, the crowd gradually calmed.
"You've probably heard already," she said, voice turning softer. "This is my and Mr. Brook's last concert here on Sabaody. For the next few years, we probably won't perform on this island again."
A tidal wave of disappointment swept the stands.
Especially through the "musclehead side"—most of them were already crying again.
"But don't be too sad."
Uta's smile turned brighter.
"You all know my dream."
From somewhere in the crowd, one person shouted. Then another. Then a dozen, a hundred.
Soon the entire arena roared together:
"To bring songs to those who suffer,
and spread warmth to every corner of the sea!"
Uta's eyes curved.
"Exactly. So next…" She drew in a breath. "I'm going to sing a brand-new song for you all."
She looked down at the crowd, expression turning gentle.
"To be exact, it's a song given to me by a very important person. We spent a long time together arranging and rehearsing it. Tonight, my band and I will perform it for you for the first time."
She snapped her fingers.
Her Uta Uta no Mi power rippled out— a faint shimmer over the crowd.
Shanks and his crew tensed up for a moment, instinctively remembering that incident in the past… but there was no twist in her aura this time. No loss of control. No madness.
Just music.
The backing track began.
A style of music that simply did not exist in this world—
fresh, modern, powerful.
The first notes of "Wake" rang out, and Uta's voice soared.
Her ability wove illusions and visuals above and around the stage: shockwaves of color, dancing bands of light, scenes of sea and sky, dreams and dawn—
An audiovisual impact that slammed straight into the audience's hearts.
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