The sea breeze swept past.
The ship bearing the name "Sun" moved slowly through the shimmering waves.
The Sun Pirates.
No.
Now—they were the Sun Adventure Group.
Fisher Tiger stood quietly at the bow.
He did not look back.
Yet that silhouette alone was like a story carved into history.
Tiger stared out at the sea, thoughts churning in his eyes—
The backstreets of Fish-Man Island.
Chaotic, impoverished, forgotten.
That was where he had begun.
There, he had not been a hero, only a man who defended his turf with his fists and sheltered his companions with his body.
But it was also in a place like that that he learned one thing—if the weak did not stand up, they would only ever be trampled beneath others' feet.
Later.
He left.
—He chose to see for himself what this world truly looked like.
He became an adventurer, a man who traveled around the world in the truest sense.
He had seen the light of Sky Island and the darkness of the deep sea.
He had seen prosperous cities, as well as the filth lurking in their corners.
He had seen smiling faces, and the indifference behind them.
But none of that was enough. What truly changed everything was that journey with no road home.
—He was captured.
There was no warning, no chance to resist.
He was escorted away, branded, and assigned a number like merchandise.
Iron chains bound his hands and feet, while hot irons seared his skin.
—He became a "slave."
Only then did he truly understand that the so-called "human world" was not complicated.
It was insane.
For three whole years.
He had no name.
No dignity.
No choice.
There was only being bought and sold, ordered about, and trampled on.
He saw countless races imprisoned together.