West Blue, Lilikaya Island.
The gambling city in the West Blue blazed with lights in the night, its neon flickering as though the entire city had been gilded with a golden glow.
Crowds surged through the streets, and the cheers of gamblers and the cries of slave traders
mingled with the music from the taverns, forming a chaotic, clamorous symphony.
Dressed in a black uniform and a top hat, Gern strolled along with the white-cloth-wrapped Black Blade: Eight Desolations at his waist, his gaze sweeping over the shops lining the street.
In the windows of the slave shops, people bound in chains stared with hollow eyes, as though they had long since lost all hope.
"What a disgusting place..." Gern murmured, his fingers unconsciously tapping his sword's hilt.
His goal was to find Tesoro, the man who would one day become "Gild Tesoro."
According to his information, Tesoro was currently working himself to the bone in this city, trying to buy his beloved Stella's freedom.
The two of them also liked to sing to each other through the bars of her cage.
But as Gern wandered aimlessly in search of him, a cool voice suddenly came from behind.
"Are you a master swordsman?"
"Hmm?!" Gern stopped and slowly turned.
Before him stood a slender boy of about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a patterned burgundy open-front jacket,
with eyes as sharp as a hawk's and a uniquely shaped, enormous sword strapped to his back.
(Roger was executed in 1498, when nineteen-year-old Mihawk watched. It was now 1494, so counting backward, Mihawk was fifteen.)
"Mihawk?" Gern raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly surprised.
He had never expected to encounter the future "World's Greatest Swordsman" here, let alone while he was still so young.
*Could I finally be stepping into the leading edge of