Meteor Island lay in the latter half of the Grand Line.
It was an archipelago, said to have been formed by a shower of meteorites over a thousand years ago. As a result, the entire chain of islands was obsidian-black, its rocks harder than iron, with not a single plant growing on them.
Only vast, barren stretches of dark gray earth met the eye, broken by canyons, rocky wastelands, and the like.
Life was also exceedingly rare there.
That was why Meteor Island had another name: Death Island.
Only those who were lucky, skilled navigators, or powerful enough could reach the island, because the surrounding sea was shrouded in storms year-round, with raging currents and waves all around it.
Many kingdoms, and even the World Government, had once tried to develop the area, but almost all of them had failed.
The islands had been formed by falling meteorites, and the rocks alone, nearly as hard as iron, were highly useful and might even contain some kind of mineral deposit.
It was simply that the region's limitations made large-scale development impossible with current technology.
Otherwise, the effort would not have been worth the cost.
Normally, the archipelago should have been silent and still. But ever since the Roger Pirates had been chased here by the Navy three days ago, it had become a battlefield.
Three days had passed, and the Roger Pirates were in a dire situation!
"Roger, you can't escape!"
Blinding golden light enveloped the heavy clouds. Sengoku, transformed into a Buddha with a wrathful expression, brought his palm down in a powerful, domineering strike that met Roger's sword. A mass of black-and-red lightning crackled between them as waves of pressure surged outward.
"Hahaha!"
"Is the World Government getting desperate?"
Roger's feet were buried in the dirt. He held his