Foosha Village

The windmill turned slowly.

"Creak—creak—"

The air carried the scent of the sea breeze, yet there was also an indescribable sense of stagnation.

The two little brats across from him clearly did not feel it.

"Hey, hey, hey!!!"

The boy with a bandage on his forehead stepped forward, swinging his wooden stick toward Rock with a sharp swish. His movement was fierce and direct.

"We're asking you a question—!!!"

He wore a pale yellow-green sleeveless shirt, his face covered in freckles.

His gaze was arrogant and furious.

His unyielding aura even carried a touch of wildness.

—Portgas D. Ace, nine years old.

(Because Rouge had given birth safely on Sky Island, he had not carried the fate of being hunted and having his birth delayed.)

"Yeah!"

The shorter boy beside him immediately chimed in as well.

He wore a red sleeveless shirt, snot still hanging from his nose, yet he was also holding up a wooden stick with a serious expression.

—Monkey D. Luffy, seven years old.

Hearing that, a vein popped on Ace's forehead.

"Idiot!"

"Don't just say 'yeah'!"

Rock's gaze slowly fell upon Ace.

That face.

That aura.

That fire that refused to bow its head.

And... that outline vaguely overlapping with someone else's.

"..."

The air fell quiet for an instant, and Ace was looking at him too.

As he made out that face, his original anger gradually faded.

It was replaced by confusion, then uncertainty, and finally—shock.

That feeling... was too familiar.

That sense of oppression, that presence which made breathing heavy simply by standing there and doing nothing.

It slowly began to overlap with the enormous statue he remembered seeing at the Sky Island harbor plaza.

Ace's pupils gradually widened, and his expression became increasingly exaggerated.

"Eh...?"

His voice was weak.

"Eh—??"

The next second—