Preparations

Punk Hazard --

The sea breeze, carrying the scent of metal, swept across the surface, causing the massive Research Tower on the shore to tremble slightly.

The roar of machinery mingled with the crashing of waves, creating a strange harmony.

Roy sat quietly in front of that transparent viewing window.

Sunlight streamed through the Reinforced Glass, illuminating his body and highlighting the golden word "Justice" on his cloak.

He was fiddling with a Den Den Den Mushi), the shell still bearing faint arcs of electricity, indicating that a call had just ended.

"I'm sorry, Roy. The person you wanted... is no longer available."

A brief silence followed.

Roy's expression remained unchanged, only his eyes narrowed slightly before he chuckled softly.

"Ah~ never mind then."

He raised his hand and leaned back lazily in his chair.

"Anyway, it's not something very important~"

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out outside.

"Hey! Let me go, old man—!"

"Ace! Don't move!!"

"Grandpa!! You're here again!!"

"Ha ha--!"

Garp's booming laughter echoed throughout the entire corridor.

He grabbed Ace by the back of his collar with one hand and pressed down on Luffy's head with the other, dragging the two of them through the air like chicks.

"You brats!! You're always doing bad things! I'll teach you two a lesson today!!"

"Ugh--! Let go, old man!!"

"Old man!! I'm an adult already--!"

"Stop talking nonsense! Just because you're an adult doesn't mean you can't get beaten up!!"

Further away on the Training Ground, the sounds of clashing metal and shouts echoed.

Zoro and Kuina stood side by side in the center of the arena, both covered in sweat, their swords flashing in the blazing sun.

Teacher Zephyr crossed his arms, his expression serious, but his eyes were full of satisfaction.

"A sword is not just for killing."

It can also protect people.

"Remember, the sharpness of the sword is determined by the heart."

Kuina smiled gently, her eyes as firm as crystal.

Zoro gritted his teeth, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Yes, teacher!"

A breeze swept across the Training Ground, stirring up dust and heat.

Sunlight shone on the young figure--

At that moment, it was as if their passion ignited the entire Cold Experimental Base.

At the other end of the research institute, the humming of air conditioning and light screens rose and fell.

The Three Emperors Seraphim slept peacefully in a transparent cryogenic chamber.

Their faces were calm, their breathing even, and occasionally their fingertips twitched slightly.

Outside the capsule, Vegapunk and his Six Great Satellites rapidly recorded data around the instruments.

"The reaction is stable."

"Energy fluctuations are within a safe range."

"What an amazing evolution..."

The main body of Vegapunk raised its head and looked out at the blue sky through the thick bulkhead. A rare soft light shone in its eyes, which were filled with the wisdom and experience of time.

The sound of footsteps was soft.

Roy.

A familiar voice came from behind.

Roy turned around and saw Sengoku walking slowly towards him.

Sengoku slowly walked behind Roy, wearing a navy cloak, his white hair fluttering in the sea breeze.

"Fleet Admiral," Roy smiled gently and raised his teacup in greeting.

Sengoku did not respond immediately, but walked to his side and looked out at the vast blue sea together.

The waves rolled, seabirds soared overhead, and the whole world was so quiet that only the sound of the wind and the beating of one's heart could be heard.

"The position of Fleet Admiral,"

Sengoku asked in a low voice, his tone calm yet meaningful, "What do you think?"

Roy was taken aback, then chuckled, "Fleet Admiral? Don't ask me that question."

He shrugged, a confident smile playing on his lips.

"I'm still young~"

Upon hearing this, Sengoku smiled slightly, "You brat... you're just like Garp."

Roy smiled gently, and the two stood side by side, gazing at the sunlit sea.

The wind stirred the curtains, lifting the white cloak that symbolized Justice.

Suddenly, Sengoku asked, "Are you almost done with your preparations?"

Roy paused slightly, gazing at the horizon where the sky meets the sea, a deep light flashing in his eyes.

"Hmm--almost there."

Sengoku nodded slightly, his expression softening. "Is that so..."

He sighed softly, his voice low and somber. "While these old bones of ours can still move, let us—"

"I'll do my part for you one last time..."

"Fleet Admiral."

Roy suddenly spoke, interrupting him. Sengoku was taken aback and turned his head.

Roy turned to look at him, his face beaming with undisguised confidence.

Don't underestimate us.

That smile was like the morning sun piercing through the mist, full of youthful spirit and sharp brilliance.

The Sengoku was taken aback at first, then burst into laughter.

"Haha... it seems that in this New Era, we old folks really don't need to put up a fight anymore."

He looked up at the boundless sea, a sense of peace shining deep in his eyes.

Sunlight streamed down, and the wind lifted the hem of the white cloak, causing the word "Justice" to dance gently in the light.

--The Flower Country

Neon lights and paper lanterns flickered and intertwined, while the faint aromas of tea and fried food wafted through the streets and alleys.

In a secluded alley, the Blade Squad was taking a short break outside an old restaurant.

The air was filled with the dampness after the rain, and the streetlights were dim and gentle.

Sanji leaned against a wooden pillar, a cigarette dangling from his lips, exhaling a puff of white smoke.

The smoke dissipated in the night breeze, and a helpless yet disdainful smile curled at the corner of his lips.

"Those bastards--"

He chuckled softly, smoke swirling around his Blond Hair, "There probably won't even be any crumbs left."

Usopp shuddered at these words and immediately waved his hand, "Hey! Sanji! Don't say such scary things!"

The Kujaku crossed her arms, gave a cold snort, and her tone was clearly displeased.

That green rooster head is disgusting.

Arrogant, narcissistic, and cocky, and he keeps making that gesture, it's so annoying.

Hibari added softly, his tone calm but tinged with coldness.

"Don't worry, they won't survive."

Her gaze swept lightly over the streetlights in the distance, the Flame reflecting a pale golden halo in her eyes.

Sanji squinted slightly, the glow of his cigarette flickering.

"... Um?"

Drake, who had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, frowned and whispered, "There's an unfamiliar presence—"

Footsteps came from the end of the street.

"Tap... tap... tap..."

It was a steady, orderly rhythm, without a trace of disorder.

The streetlights reflected off the damp surface after the rain, and three tall figures gradually came into view.

They were dressed in identical white robes, their faces covered by masks, revealing only faintly glowing breathing holes.

For some reason, pedestrians on the street seemed to instinctively avoid their direction, and the surroundings instantly became unusually quiet.

The person at the very front wore a pure white mask—his left eye was as black as ink, and his right eye was as white as a mirror, with a very deep scar across the white of his eye.

He had earmuffs resembling mechanical interfaces on the sides of his ears, a light beard around his chin, and exuded a cold and imposing aura.

They stopped just ten paces from the Blade Squad.

The wind suddenly became low and deep, the air like a taut string, ready to snap at the slightest touch.

The man in white spoke, his voice cold and indifferent, the metallic echo reverberating at the alley entrance:

"Navy."

The two words he uttered carried an interrogative chill.

He paused for a moment, raised his head, his black and white pupils gleaming in the light, and said softly:

"I need to ask you something."