To the Holy Land

Marineford, late at night.

Brring, brring, brring!

In the headquarters command room, an entire row of Den Den Mushi rang like mad, their piercing bells making everyone's eardrums ache.

"All the slave cells in the East District have fallen!"

"A Celestial Dragon's mansion is on fire!"

"The attacker has been identified—Fisher Tiger, the Fish-Man!"

Sengoku rubbed his brow, his expression as grim as could be.

Tsuru was on a mission far out at sea, Garp's warship had yet to return to port, and the three Logia Vice Admirals all had duties elsewhere. None of them were at headquarters.

Sakazuki's voice came from another Den Den Mushi. "What about the garrison at the Holy Land?"

"Fires broke out everywhere at once. The troops were scattered long ago!"

"Who could have imagined anyone would dare attack the Holy Land these days?!"

On the other end of the Den Den Mushi, the World Government liaison was practically shouting. "The Holy Land demands that the Marines dispatch forces immediately! Protect the Celestial Dragons and seal off every exit!"

"All escaped slaves must be recovered!"

A staff officer spoke up hesitantly. "What if someone refuses to return?"

"Treat them as escaped property! Use force to subdue them if necessary!"

The liaison raised his voice even higher. "Especially those bearing a noble's mark—not one can be missing! Whoever lets one escape will be held responsible!!"

Sengoku's pen stopped.

"You mean we should fight the fires and capture the escaped slaves at the same time?"

"That's right! All slaves must be recovered!"

Sengoku frowned but didn't answer immediately.

Ron, who had been leaning against the wall, suddenly opened his eyes.

"Recovered?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the Den Den Mushi.

"Who's speaking?"

"Marine Headquarters Rear Admiral Ron."

The liaison's voice faltered at once.

Ron suddenly remembered what Kuzan had said at the training ground a while ago. He turned to Sengoku. "I'll go."

Sengoku jerked his head up. "You?"

"Who else?"

Ron pointed at the Den Den Mushi. "By the time a warship crawls up the Red Line, the fires will have burned until dawn."

Sengoku stared hard at him, his eyes full of concern. "Did you hear all the orders clearly?"

"I did."

"Even the last one?"

"Including the last one."

Hearing that only made Sengoku more concerned.

"What are you planning to do?"

"I'll see when I get there."

"..."

Sengoku's temples throbbed.

"Ron."

Sakazuki's deep voice suddenly came through the Den Den Mushi.

"Yeah, Pops."

"Don't do anything reckless."

Ron grinned. "When have I ever done anything reckless?"

The entire command room fell silent. One staff officer quietly lowered his head, pretending to study the documents on the table.

A vein at Sengoku's temple throbbed twice. In the end, he grabbed the deployment order and stamped it hard.

"There's a lookout platform on the east side of the Holy Land. Go in through there. Don't go charging into buildings you don't know!"

Ron put the deployment order away.

Sengoku suddenly lowered his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Save people first. Don't let the fire reach innocent people."

Ron met his gaze, his smile fading a little, and nodded. "Got it."

Click.

An Air Door opened beside him.

Holy Land Mary Geoise.

Ron stepped out onto the lookout platform. His first impression wasn't luxury, but disgust.

The palaces before him were dazzlingly white, and even the eyes of the statues lining the streets were set with glittering jewels.

He spread out his Observation Haki, but below ground were nothing but rusty iron bars, heavy chains, and cells pouring out black smoke.

Like a rotten scab stuck to the underside of this "paradise."

A Celestial Dragon in fine clothes and an oxygen mask rode on a slave's back, whipping him hard to make him carry him to safety, all the while cursing and swearing.

Elsewhere, crowds of people with iron collars still around their necks stumbled along, crying and shouting as they fled for their lives.

"What a rotten place," Ron murmured.

Nearby, a noble in a dressing gown was jumping up and down, shrieking at the guards. "Save my jewels first! That slave got away, and I'll have your lives for it!"

The guards rushed out of the blaze carrying wooden crates, without so much as glancing at the man lying at their feet with his ankles chained.

Ron walked over and stomped the chain apart.

"If you can stand, get moving. Don't wait here for someone to carry you."

The man stared blankly at the broken iron chain at his feet, unable to react for a long moment.

He even forgot to thank Ron before turning and running.

Boom!

In the distance.

Three government employees clutching documents had just reached the entrance to a corridor when a deafening crash came from overhead.

A burning beam came crashing down!

The three of them froze in terror.

Ron raised a hand and waved it.

Click!

The Spatial Door swallowed the beam whole.

"Run east. Don't look back."

"Th-thank you, Rear Admiral!!"

The three scrambled away.

Rounding an alley, Ron saw two escaped convicts taking advantage of the chaos to rob a nurse, holding her at knifepoint and searching her belongings while spewing obscenities.

Ron went up and kicked each of them once, knocking them both unconscious.

The knife fell to the ground, and he stomped it in two. "You finally got out, and this is what you're thinking about? Real impressive."

The nurse stumbled away after thanking him.

Ron glanced at the slave brand on one man's arm and paused.

Escaping the cage took skill, but what was it to turn around and bully someone weaker?

If they had the guts, they should go cut down Celestial Dragons. What was the point of targeting someone just doing her job?

He thought no more about it and turned to continue deeper into the fire.

"Rear Admiral Ron!"

A squad of CP Agents suddenly came running toward him. Their leader looked at him as though he'd found a savior. "Perfect timing! Dozens of slaves escaped up ahead. Quick, help us block them!!"

At the mouth of the alley, dozens of people huddled together in panic.

There were elderly people, women, and children. Some still had lengths of chain trailing from the iron collars around their necks.

A little girl held her feverish younger brother. She wasn't even wearing shoes, and the soles of her feet were bloody.

Ron looked at them, then turned to the Cipher Pol agents and nodded. "All right."

He raised his hand.

Click!

A door wide enough for several people to pass through abreast opened out of thin air in front of the slaves. They froze for a moment, but their instinct to survive overcame their hesitation, and they all rushed inside.

The door slammed shut behind them and vanished into the air.

The Cipher Pol agents stood there stunned for two seconds. Their leader let out a sigh of relief. "Nice! Rear Admiral, where did they go?"

"I sent them back."

Without changing expression, Ron pointed elsewhere. "The fire has made things too chaotic. Go block them somewhere else. I'll handle this side."

"Understood! Thank you, Rear Admiral!"

The Cipher Pol agents rushed off with their men.

Meanwhile, at the cargo lift platform on the outer edge of the Holy Land.

The guards here had long since been called away to fight the fires, leaving only a large lift on the platform.

An Air Door suddenly opened, and dozens of slaves stumbled out.

"Wh-where is this?"

The old man at the front suddenly spotted the down sign beside the lift.

"It goes down the mountain!"

The old man hurried to the lift and pulled open the iron gate.

"Quick! Everyone in!"

The dozens of slaves jostled to squeeze into the lift car.

Once the last child had been carried aboard, the old man quickly shut the gate and pulled the lever down hard.

Rumble...

The lift slowly descended the mountain.

At the mouth of another alley, Ron kicked open a scorched cell door.

Rows of wooden plaques were nailed to the wall, recording the slaves' ages, races, and prices.

A child's iron shackle had been tossed in the corner, so small it could only fit a child a few years old.

Farther inside, a bloodstained whip still hung from a torture rack, and several slave auction lists lay scattered across the floor.

Ron picked up the little iron shackle, looked at it for a moment, then put it back.

On the other side of the fire.

Fisher Tiger had just rushed out of an alley when he suddenly stopped.

Through the thick smoke, a young man in a Justice Coat stood at the end of the street.

Fisher Tiger's face darkened.

A Marine Rear Admiral?

And that aura...

He immediately stepped across in front of the others, blocking their way.

"Go on ahead!"

The slaves behind him were still hesitating.

"Don't worry about me! Go!"

Across a burning street, the two stared at each other from a distance.

Ron recognized the face. He had seen it in the files.

Fisher Tiger also stared fixedly at him. Since this Marine Rear Admiral had appeared, he had neither called for anyone's arrest nor made a move.

But the next second, to Fisher Tiger's surprise, Ron turned and walked toward the center of the Holy Land.

Fisher Tiger froze for a moment, but there was no time to dwell on it. He immediately turned and led the people into the thick smoke.

As Ron made his way toward the center of the Holy Land, a sharp gust from a sword suddenly split the flames soaring ahead of him in two.

Ron stopped.

An astonishingly powerful presence struck his Observation Haki.

A red-haired young man walked out of the smoke, a sword at his waist and the uniform of the Holy Knights draped over his shoulders.

Holy Knights · Shanks

It was none other than the twenty-four-year-old Shanks.

Ron's eyes narrowed slightly. The redhead who had once followed Pirate King Roger was now wearing the uniform of a Holy Land knight.

Shanks was looking at him too.

They both spread out their Observation Haki at once, probing each other briefly before withdrawing it with an unspoken understanding.

Shanks's gaze moved from Ron's Rear Admiral epaulets to Zhenyuan at his waist, where it lingered for a moment.

He had, of course, heard of the "monster Rear Admiral" whose name had recently spread across the seas. He just hadn't expected the man himself to be even younger than the rumors suggested.

Ron didn't put his hand on his sword hilt either.

The presence of the man before him was on a completely different level from those of the Holy Land Guards he had encountered along the way.

"Marine?" Shanks spoke first, his tone somewhat casual.

Ron glanced at his uniform. "God's Knights?"

"I guess so."

"Doesn't sound like much of a job."

Hearing that, Shanks couldn't help but chuckle.

His gaze swept past Ron to the area behind him. The group of slaves he had sensed with Observation Haki earlier was long gone.

"Did anyone come through here just now?"

"No," Ron answered frankly.

The two looked at each other for a few seconds, and Shanks's smile deepened.

"I see."

Ron also looked up, gazing behind Shanks.

The Holy Land Guards who had been chasing them were blocked on the other side by a collapsed section of the wall along the street.

The wall had been cut cleanly, clearly split by a sword just moments ago.

"Your sword went pretty wide of the mark."

Shanks glanced at the broken wall behind him and rubbed his nose. "It's my first time being a knight. I'm a little rusty."

Ron laughed.

"What a coincidence. It's my first time in the Holy Land too."

He knocked on the air beside him and added, as though talking to himself, "I don't know my way around. I can't even put the door in the right place."