The Purest One in a Den of Bandits

The entire sky was dyed red.

Lightning crackled and coiled through the air.

A vast meteor shower hung frozen in place, its stars arranged in all kinds of bizarre patterns. The gaudier, the better—they were going for visual impact.

It was all for show.

Whether it was practical didn't matter.

This was a vanity project, after all!

The sea was raging, and the water was full of identical corpses. They were soldiers of the Germa Kingdom, an army cloned by Vinsmoke Judge using Bloodline Factors.

The clones were weak, but equipped with all kinds of high-tech weapons, they were practically unstoppable. They feared no death and obeyed orders without question.

Judge probably hadn't perfected the process yet. These clones were likely only the first version, with a second and third version to come later.

Judge was a tall man with long golden hair, a metal helmet, and pointed black mustaches slanting upward. A small goatee adorned his prominent chin.

But now he was in a sorry state. His 66 battle suit was in tatters, and his metal helmet had vanished. His hair hung loose as he lay in a pool of blood, barely breathing.

He turned his head to look at the dazzling effects in the sky, as magnificent as something conjured by gods and demons—especially the rainbow-colored, evil-looking figure seated on the Golden Throne.

How could he not recognize him?

The Golden Emperor.

The Gaia Great Emperor.

The living One Piece.

The world's richest man.

The world's strongest man, and so on.

You could go your whole life without recognizing the Fleet Admiral, but the man who ushered in the Cultivation Era and stood above the Four Emperors was someone everyone had to know.

It was common knowledge for anyone living in this era.

But...

Why would someone like