Grand Line, Island of White Soil, Baltigo.
The dry, frigid wind swept fine white grains of sand across the endless Gobi, letting out a low, mournful howl.
On the training grounds, young Revolutionary Army soldiers stood atop the hard white earth, sweating as they honed their hand-to-hand combat skills. Their synchronized shouts made even the sand tremble faintly.
Inside the supply station, logistics personnel carefully counted the supplies and medicine secretly transported from the Four Seas. The rustling of ledger pages mingled with the dull thuds of wooden crates colliding.
In the underground communications room, the telegraph never stopped beeping. Intelligence on resistance movements from the Four Seas and developments within the World Government continuously converged here, where core personnel sorted and analyzed it before delivering it to the headquarters building in the depths of the island.
The entire island operated at high speed in silence, like a colossal beast lurking deep within the Gobi, quietly accumulating the strength needed to overturn the World Government's eight-hundred-year rule.
On the top-floor balcony of the headquarters building, Revolutionary Army leader Monkey D. Dragon stood by the railing.
He wore a dark green military coat, and the square-patterned tattoo on his face was especially clear in the morning light. His deep eyes, cold as a frozen pool, gazed toward the East Blue, holding a barely perceptible trace of concern and conflict.
The path he had chosen was destined to cut him off from ordinary familial affection, yet the bonds of blood were never so easily severed.
Suddenly, Dragon's expression changed sharply!
He could clearly sense a terrifying presence rapidly closing in on Baltigo.
Without the slightest hesitation, Dragon raised a hand and clenched it fiercely!
The surrounding air was instantly compressed by him, and an enormous Dragon Twister sprang into existence. Its wind