The Uncrowned King of the Rocks Pirates

Rektol picked up the blood-red rally order, half of it burned away.

The sealing wax along the parchment's edges had already blackened. A pungent, bloody stench wafted from the paper.

He bared his teeth. Two rows of teeth gleamed stark white in the dim light. The muscles in his cheeks twitched slightly from excessive excitement.

"God Valley... it's finally here."

Two days later.

The sea of the New World was shrouded in dense fog.

A pitch-black steel behemoth tore through the fog without warning.

This was no wooden sailing ship. It was a mobile metal fortress.

The hull's outer shell had been forcibly pieced together from Wapometal and the iron armor of scrapped warships. There wasn't a single rivet holding the seams together.

Cracker sat on the steel framework at the bow.

His face was deathly pale, and his forehead was covered in beads of sweat the size of soybeans. His chubby hands waved constantly as he pushed the power of the Magnet-Magnet Fruit to its limit.

Under the forceful distortion of magnetism, the rusted iron plates screeched gratingly as they meshed together perfectly.

At the stern of the warship, four thick exhaust pipes spewed dazzling blue plasma flames.

This was an early prototype Rektol had personally designed based on ancient blueprints purchased on the black market and Smoothie's future "Mecha Girl technology" route—the Thunder-Powered Turbine Propeller.

Rektol stood at the highest point of the captain's cabin.

Two conductive copper cables as thick as thumbs were tightly bound around his ankles.

Inside his chest, his first heart beat rhythmically. Two hundred million volts of berserk kinetic energy flowed along the copper cables, continuously pouring into the vessel's power core.

Katakuri's hands were wrapped in thick bandages stained with blood.

He stood at the very front of the deck like a javelin. The sea wind whipped his scarf loudly.

Behind him, the Charlotte Family's core officers and affiliated captains had all changed into pitch-black trench coats.

There was none of the drunkenness or clamor common among pirates. Only deathly silence remained.

Hachinosu. Pirate Island.

The enormous skull-shaped rock overlooked the chaotic port.

Hundreds of pirate ships flying all kinds of flags crowded the berths. On the shore, pirates were drinking contests and brawling. The sour stink of cheap rum mixed with the smell of sweat, making it hard to keep one's eyes open.

"Wooo—"

A sharp mechanical whistle suddenly tore through the port's uproar.

White fog churned.

The steel warship showed no intention of slowing down.

The Fine Steel ram at the bow came with overwhelming force, crushing straight through two wooden three-masted sailing ships moored at the outermost edge.

"Crack!"

The thunderous sound of their keels splintering shook the entire bay. The two large ships broke in half in an instant. Splinters of wood flew dozens of meters into the air.

The unlucky pirates screamed as they fell into the water, splashing up great waves.

The steel behemoth forced its way into the innermost berth, ramming a broad waterway through the dense cluster of ships.

The pirates on shore were completely dumbfounded.

A bald pirate's wine bottle smashed against the stones. Shards of glass bounced onto his instep and cut open a bloody gash, yet he didn't even let out a grunt.

Golden Lion Shiki sat on an ammunition crate at the dock.

The burns on his face had not yet healed, and they were wrapped in thick gauze. When he saw the steel warship cleaving through the waves, the fingers holding his cigar suddenly trembled.

A piece of scorching ash fell onto his kimono. It burned through the fabric and scorched his flesh. He sucked in a sharp breath.

Whitebeard Newgate rose to his feet.

The muscles in his thick arms bulged as he instinctively tightened his grip on Murakumogiri. The blade scraped across the blue stone slabs, producing a piercing shriek.

Ochoku and Silver Axe stood at the back of the crowd. The two exchanged a glance. Silver Axe touched the ribs in his chest, which still throbbed faintly, and his Adam's apple rolled with difficulty.

The warship reached the shore.

The heavy steel gangplank crashed onto the stone dock. Sparks flew in every direction.

Rektol walked at the very front.

His pink hair whipped wildly in the wind. Though he stood only three years tall, he strode with the might of one who ruled the world.

Katakuri and Cracker followed close behind. Their black military boots struck the iron plates with neat, uniform metallic clangs.

The murderous aura radiating from this group made the surrounding hardened killers look like country bumpkins who had never seen blood.

The pirates retreated involuntarily, forcibly clearing a three-meter-wide path across the dock.

Skull Fortress. Top-floor conference room.

The heavy black velvet curtains were drawn tightly shut. The air was thick with the moldy stench of blood and choking tobacco smoke.

Rocks sat at the head of the long table.

A huge sea chart of God Valley was spread across the table, covered in red and blue attack routes.

"Charlotte Family."

Rocks' voice sounded as unpleasant as a saw cutting through wood.

His withered finger jabbed heavily at a red circle near the front of the sea chart.

"Your people will lead the charge. You'll tear open the God's Knights' defensive line from the front."

Rocks raised his bloodshot eyes.

"Newgate and Shiki, take the main fleet and flank them from both sides."

It was a classic cannon-fodder tactic. He intended to use the Charlotte Family's lives to fill the Celestial Dragons' firepower net.

As soon as he finished speaking—

"Bang!"

The conference room's heavy iron-plated door was kicked open.

The door slammed into the stone wall, and one of its hinges snapped off with a mournful screech.

Rektol walked in on his short legs.

He did not even glance at the pirate officers standing on alert on either side. He went straight to the long table.

He placed both hands on a high-backed chair and yanked it open.

Rektol stepped onto the edge of the chair and jumped straight up.

He raised his right foot, clad in a military boot, and stomped it onto the sea chart on the table with a loud smack.

A lump of black mud fell from the sole and landed perfectly over the red circle Rocks had drawn.

"You old fool, did seawater get into your brain?"

Rektol spat out the wooden splinter he had been holding between his teeth. It bounced off a wineglass.

"The Charlotte Family will cover the retreat."

Rektol tapped the tabletop with his toe, using enough force to make the boards creak.

"You go to the front and fight Garp and Roger to the death."

He leaned forward and stared straight into Rocks' eyes.

"If anyone dares take even one step back, I'll use lightning from behind to blast his ship into firewood."

The entire conference room fell into deathly silence.

Captain John had drawn half his blade, but it was stuck in the scabbard. His wrist hung rigidly in midair.

Rocks' face twitched violently. His right hand pressed tightly against the grip of the flintlock at his waist.

His fingernails dug into the wooden grip, scraping several deep white marks into it.

Killing intent collided wildly throughout the room. The temperature dropped to freezing point.

Rektol did not move.

Inside his chest, three heavy heartbeats resounded like war drums.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Blue-white arcs of electricity flickered around the edges of his boots. A violent energy capable of overturning the entire island at any moment was gathering.

As long as Rocks dared draw his gun, two hundred million volts of thunder would pierce his brainstem within 0.1 seconds.

Several veins bulged on the back of Rocks' hand.

He looked at Rektol, then at Katakuri standing outside the door, his entire body radiating the aura of a Conqueror's Haki Prototype.

Time passed second by second.

A minute later.

Rocks released his grip on the gun.

"We'll do as you say."

Rocks ground his back teeth and forced the words out through the gaps between them. He tasted a hint of blood in his mouth.

Everyone present sucked in a cold breath.

Rocks, who dominated the seas, had actually yielded to a three-year-old child.

Ochoku swallowed. His palm was slick with clammy sweat.

Rektol withdrew his foot. He rubbed the mud across the sea chart with his boot, leaving behind a broad smear of filth.

He jumped down from the chair without even looking at Rocks' iron-gray face.

Then he turned and walked out.

He stepped through the conference room door.

The sunlight outside was somewhat glaring. The salty sea wind scattered the moldy smell clinging to Rektol.

Katakuri came to meet him and handed him a clean towel.

Rektol waved it away without taking it.

He walked to the stone railing at the edge of the fortress. He placed both hands against the rough stone, feeling the chill of the rock beneath his fingertips.

Far away, the sea horizon glittered beneath the sunlight like fish scales.

Rektol closed his eyes.

A faint blue glow lit up beneath his eyelids. The All-Knowing Eye silently activated.

His vision instantly pierced through layer upon layer of waves, crossed countless dimensions of space, and reached the mysterious island several hundred nautical miles away.

God Valley.

He saw the Marine warships waiting in battle formation. He saw Garp's iron fist clenched until it cracked. He saw the dark red main sail of the Roger Pirates cutting through the storm.

But he did not care about any of that.

Rektol's gaze cut downward like a scalpel, sinking toward the deepest part of the island.

Past the God's Knights' defensive line.

Inside a Pure Gold treasury guarded by heavily armed troops.

At the center of a mountain of treasure, inside an intricately carved agarwood box—

There lay a fruit covered in patterns of blue scales, radiating an ancient aura.

Mythical Zoan Dragon Form.

Beside it lay the terrifying wealth the Celestial Dragons had plundered over eight hundred years, along with countless ancient technology blueprints sealed inside lead tubes.

Rektol opened his eyes.

The blue light in his eyes instantly receded.

His Adam's apple bobbed. His fingers squeezed several deep marks into the stone railing, and stone dust fell through the gaps between them.

Roger, Garp, Rocks.

Go ahead and bite each other to your hearts' content.

I'm taking this entire feast, plates and all.

A world-shaking betrayal and snatch was about to unfold.