The Island of Knowledge,
Ohara.
Dozens of kilometers off the coast,
waves surged violently as soldiers gathered on deck. Cannon after cannon was loaded and primed.
Along the shoreline,
crowds of locals preparing to go to sea, and visitors from other lands, all looked out in confusion at the massive fleet approaching.
Was that… the Navy?
The countless warships and the unmistakable gull-emblazoned flags cut through the waves, converging on Ohara in a sweeping encirclement.
Cannon turrets slowly adjusted, their black muzzles now fixed directly on the island.
On the decks stood high-ranking officers seldom seen in the West Blue
two of them, in particular, stood out for their towering builds.
One had curly hair and wore dark sunglasses.
The other was broad-shouldered and wore a cap.
And elsewhere on one of the ships,
a man in a pinstriped suit draped in a gray-and-white cloak stood arrogantly, holding a strange-looking golden Den Den Mushi in his hand, barking orders as if conducting a military symphony.
Anyone with knowledge of the world would be stunned to see that snail.
That golden Den Den Mushi signaled that the world government's final line had been crossed
there would be no negotiations, no compromise.
The true overlords of this sea were about to deliver absolute judgment:
The Buster Call.
A symbol of indiscriminate annihilation,
typically consisting of ten or more battleships and at least five vice admirals,
it brought total destruction upon whatever target was designated by that signal.
The choking scent of war now began to stir unrest among the people on the coast.
"Hey… why do I get the feeling those ships are headed for Ohara?"
"No way… did some infamous pirate end up here?"
"What kind of pirate would need this kind of firepower? The Pirate King?"
Their speculation wasn't far off.
There truly was someone here worthy of that kind of mobilization.
The kind of pirate they were thinking of
someone who warranted the full wrath of the world government
was currently lounging on a cliffside,
a cup of orange juice in hand, sipping through a straw without a care in the world.
Come to think of it,
once this Buster Call ends,
the three future admirals would soon make their debut.
Ozz sipped his juice, thinking back on the history he remembered.
Next to him stood a handsome young man with a pale, refined face.
He wore a bright red floral shirt, arms folded, and eyes calm as he gazed at the incoming fleet.
Then, turning toward Ozz and seeing his composed, unsurprised expression,
he asked coolly:
"Is this massive Navy force here… for the two of us?"
And you couldn't blame Mihawk for thinking that.
He'd been relaxing on this island for days now and had figured it out:
this was just an ordinary little island in the West Blue.
Not a single warrior capable of using Haki had shown up.
How could a place like this attract such a grand naval assault?
He slowly drew the elegant black blade from his back. Yoru, the Black Sword
clearly ready to strike first.
His plan: send a hundred-meter slash as a "greeting" to the Navy.
And truth be told,
if no one stepped in to stop him, Mihawk absolutely had the power to destroy a battleship with a single swing
clean cut, no jagged edges.
No matter how many ships came, they'd be nothing more than targets.
When facing a true powerhouse,
sheer numbers lost all meaning.
Only those five leading vice admirals might survive the encounter.
"Hah? Us two? What did we ever do to deserve this…?
Okay, fine, maybe we do qualify."
Ozz chuckled.
"But this time, the Buster Call isn't meant for us.
And the World Government knows full well that a Buster Call is nothing but a joke to me."
If they really wanted to deal with Ozz,
they'd have to send elite assassins, not a navy parade.
This kind of naval encirclement?
To Ozz, it was no more than a gallery of moving targets.
"Their real target… is Ohara.
You saw the archive within that giant tree, right?
This island, known as the Island of Knowledge,
houses many scholars researching a particular part of history."
"History?" Mihawk asked.
"A forbidden piece of the past,
buried by the World Government.
Something they'd erase entire nations to keep hidden."
At those words,
Mihawk's face finally grew solemn.
A few drops of cold sweat slid down his temple.
This ran deeper than he'd expected…
"You want to hear it?" Ozz offered, smiling at his younger companion.
"I can give you the gist of it."
"Forget it. Sounds like the kind of thing that brings trouble just by knowing it.
And besides, I'm not interested in the past."
The aloof sword-obsessed Mihawk declined the invitation.
Ozz didn't insist.
He simply went back to watching this "end of the world" unfold.
To reach for truths one can't bear,
without the strength to carry their weight.
Call it idealism, call it suicide.
In any case, Ozz wasn't one for playing the saint.
He had no intention of interfering.
Back on the Navy ships,
at the forefront of the troops stood a tall figure at the prow
dressed in a black Navy coat, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
Vice Admiral Kuzan said nothing as he stared toward the coast,
even as whispers broke out among the sailors behind him.
"Are we really gonna fire indiscriminately? There are civilians on that shore…"
"Shut it! It's an order!"
"But still… this is going too far…"
Some among the Navy hesitated.
But the CP agents the World Government's bloodhounds
showed not the slightest trace of mercy.
Under their command,
the barrage began.
Cannon after cannon thundered,
bombarding Ohara without distinction.
In seconds, chaos erupted across the island.
BOOM!!!
Smoke and flame engulfed the land.
Screams and explosions merged into a single nightmarish chorus.
Hell on earth.
Locals and tourists alike,
no one was spared.
All perished in the indiscriminate hail of cannon fire.
And as they died, many couldn't believe their eyes
the Navy, long seen as the embodiment of justice,
had turned into executioners.
Before long, Navy troops landed ashore,
hunting down the scholars like wolves among sheep.
And amid the panicked stampede,
two figures stood out like gods among mortals.
walking calmly, untouched by the terror and destruction around them,
as if they existed in a different reality.
Ozz had no intention of hiding.
There was no one on this sea he needed to fear.
Any shell that fell from above,
any stray bullet, shrapnel, or blast wave.
the moment it entered a ten-meter radius of him, it vanished into nothing.
The two eventually reached the top of a tall building,
where they began recording the devastation with a Den Den Mushi.
Check-in: Ohara's Destruction +1
Their unbothered presence quickly caught the attention of both the Navy and CP agents.
When the troops surrounded the building and finally got a good look at the figure smiling and waving casually at them.
they froze.
Mouths agape, not a sound could escape their throats.
Even the rifles in their hands trembled and clattered to the ground.
No one dared to pick them up.
I-it couldn't be…!!!
It took a long moment before someone dared to reach for their Den Den Mushi,
their voice shaking with panic as they shouted:
"R-reporting to command! We've encountered a high-level threat we can't engage!"
"What nonsense are you spouting? Under a World Government-sanctioned Buster Call,
what so-called 'high-level threat' would dare to stand in our way?!"
came the stern voice on the other end.
"I-it's… it's…"
The terrified marine could barely hold back the snot and tears as his pupils trembled violently.
"It's Black Gun Ozz!!!"
----------------------------------------------------
[ Preview for the next chapter: "Don't Move, Kuzan!"
When the infamous "Black Gun" Ozz suddenly appears in the West Blue, Marine officers freeze in terror. Even Vice Admiral Kuzan once a comrade, now a cold enemy finds himself face-to-face with a ghost from the past. Orders forbid engagement, but a looming Buster Call and a deadly game of cat and mouse push the limits of loyalty and resolve. Just when Kuzan summons his icy wrath, a whisper from the shadows stops him cold: "Don't move, Kuzan."
What secret power binds them now? And who holds the true upper hand in this chilling reunion? ]
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