Jerry

In a secluded, sparsely populated district of Loguetown.

The dilapidated houses, scattered garbage, and a few scattered households all pointed to the poverty of the area.

"Brother! What happened?!"

Jerry gently pushed open the door of one of the old, dilapidated houses. A little girl, about seven or eight years old, rushed forward anxiously upon seeing his battered and bruised appearance.

The girl's clothes were bright and beautiful, a stark contrast to the impoverished household and Jerry's simple attire.

"It's nothing, little Jamie. Brother just fell down by accident!"

Jerry endured the pain, gently stroking his sister's smooth, delicate hair, but he didn't dare to smile.

Just a little bit more...

He could take his sister and mother away from this filthy place. He could let his sister live happily like other children...

Grievance and unwillingness filled his heart, but his face remained calm, as if nothing had happened.

At worst, he could start all over again.

Jamie also held back the tears welling up in her eyes. She ran into the room, brought out a medical kit, and gently began to treat Jerry's wounds.

Brother always thought she knew nothing, but in reality, she knew everything. Sometimes, when her brother came home covered in bruises, it was because he had been beaten for stealing.

She wanted to urge her brother to stop, that it was wrong.

But when she heard her mother's cough and thought of her brother's dream, she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Looking at her frail brother, and then thinking about her own beautiful clothes, she felt a pang in her heart.

Her brother never skimped on food or clothing for her and their mother, yet he always seemed indifferent.

If only she could grow up quickly and help her brother.

Jerry naturally noticed his sister's tearful expression. He slowly wiped away the tear drops from the corner of her eyes, gently comforting her and promising to be more careful next time.

Though he didn't know how many times he had made that promise.

In fact, he had tried to find steady work before, but others would bully him for being a child, withholding his wages was common, and sometimes they wouldn't pay him at all.

The burden of the family weighed on the 12-year-old boy. It didn't bend his spine, but it crushed his honest heart.

Without money, his mother and sister wouldn't be able to eat. Their family would be stuck in this slum forever, and they might even starve to death tomorrow.

So he started stealing, specifically targeting people who looked like strangers and were wealthy. He just didn't expect to be beaten so miserably today.

Perhaps it was retribution!

He had originally wanted to join the Marines and catch bad guys, but he never expected to become a complete little villain himself. It served him right to face retribution now.

However, he had no intention of quitting. After all, his whole family was waiting for him to feed them.

A sudden cough drew their attention, and they hurried to their mother's room.

A frail woman lay on the bed. Though only in her thirties, the relentless cruelty of time and illness made her look like a gaunt, 50-year-old old woman.

She had been bedridden for several years.

Jamie took a bowl, poured some water, and brought it to the woman on the bed.

"Here, Mom, drink some water."

The woman struggled to sit up upon hearing this. Jerry quickly stepped forward to help her.

After drinking the water, she looked at the scars on Jerry's body and fell silent, as if contemplating something.

Finally, she spoke.

"Little Jerry, sell the sword!"

"How can I!"

Jerry refused without hesitation.

The sword his mother was referring to was a black sword passed down from her ancestors, known as another of the Supreme Grade Swords – the Savage Dragon.

Legend had it that hundreds of years ago, his mother's ancestor was a world-renowned great swordsman who wielded a black sword, dominating the world. He eventually engaged in a legendary battle with a giant dragon.

He slew the dragon with this sword, and from then on, the name Savage Dragon struck fear into the hearts of all beings across the land.

However, the dragon slayer succumbed to his severe injuries not long after.

Jerry grew up listening to the origin of the Savage Dragon and the stories of his mother's ancestors. The Savage Dragon meant far more to him than just a Supreme Grade Sword.

The expected refusal did not anger or disappoint his mother. She also didn't want to sell her ancestor's sword.

But she even less wanted her son to risk his life every day to earn money. Although she didn't know what her son was doing, she knew it wasn't any legitimate work.

What legitimate job would result in him falling down every few days?

After seeing how badly injured her son was today, she could no longer hold back. She was terrified that one day her son would go out and never return.

At this moment, all thoughts of Supreme Grade Swords and ancestral glory were cast aside. She only wanted her family to be happy and healthy.

"Go to the Marines! They might buy the Savage Dragon at a low price, but at least they won't bully you."

Her mother's words were irrefutable. The Savage Dragon had to be sold, even if it was sold for next to nothing. The Marines would at least give them enough money for their family to live a stable life.

As for selling it to a merchant connoisseur?

She wouldn't even consider it. Merchants would indeed offer a much higher price, but she didn't dare risk them harboring ill intentions.

The jade itself is innocent, but possessing it makes one guilty.

With no background to protect them, they couldn't afford to take that risk.

While the Marine branch might not offer a high price for the sword, at least she knew the base commander in Loguetown was an honest man.

Seeing his mother's resolve, Jerry knew the situation was irreversible. He obediently crawled under his mother's bed and laboriously pulled out a large chest.

Opening the chest revealed the Savage Dragon, a treasured sword that had once dominated the world hundreds of years ago.

Its length was almost as tall as Jerry himself. The black scabbard was covered in dark red patterns, and the hilt was pure black.

Even after such a long period of being sealed away, time had left no marks on the scabbard or the hilt.

As for the blade itself, they had never seen it. His mother's ancestors had passed down an order: their descendants were forbidden to draw the sword unless they were supreme powerhouses.

The resentment from when the dragon was slain was immense, and its spirit lingered for a long time. To prevent the spirit from harming people, their ancestor had sealed it within the sword. If it were drawn, it would surely awaken.

Jerry felt a deep sadness. Even when the family was so poor that the three of them had to share a single steamed bun, his mother had never let him sell the sword.

Yet today, she was making him sell it.

It must be because she saw how badly he was injured that she was doing this.

Thinking this, Jerry's hatred for those thugs intensified. When he became strong enough, he would find them and exact his revenge!

He found a piece of rag at home and used it to wrap the entire sword. After bidding farewell to his mother and sister, he cautiously opened the door, surveyed his surroundings, and then left.

He walked slowly, each step light, as if afraid of anyone hearing his footsteps. With every step, he glanced around, ensuring no one was nearby.

As long as he got away from this area!

Once he reached the main city, even if someone desired his belongings, they wouldn't openly rob him.

But it seemed his luck was terrible today. As he was about to emerge from the alley, he saw the people he least wanted to see, without exception.

Two tall figures stood before him, blocking out all the sunlight.