Two headlines in the newspaper caught Wayne's attention.
The first read: Mysterious Island Disappears in the Second Half of the Grand Line!
Wayne glanced at the island's location. To his surprise, it wasn't far from his stronghold the City of Freedom. A faint sense of unease crept into his mind.
"A mysteriously vanished island... that rings a bell," Wayne muttered, scratching his head. He could've sworn he'd seen this in the news before, but the details escaped him. Rather than dwell on it, he moved on to the second article, which hit much closer to home.
The headline read: Liberation of the Slaves! Another King Executed by His Own People Is This the Birth of a Second City of Freedom?
That's right. The article was about the former Island of Slavery. Of course, the story spun a completely different version of events: the piece described King Slaive as a ruthless tyrant who mercilessly exploited his people. With the help of the Navy, the citizens rose in revolt and overthrew the noble class.
The article was accompanied by a photo of Admiral Kizaru, along with images of civilians crying with joy after their liberation.
Wayne shrugged. He'd expected this. The founding of a new nation was no small event there was no hiding it. But naturally, the Navy wouldn't give any credit to a pirate, even one with the title of Warlord of the Sea.
Of course they'd spin it in their favor. It was a familiar tactic to win public approval. Wayne didn't even need to think hard to know they'd pull this exact move.
...
The Apocalypse continued its journey across the sea, and the farther it sailed, the colder the air grew.
Today, the crew was in high spirits even Wayne wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Only one person stood out: Kuro. Fresh from another round of "training" (or rather, getting beaten), he noticed the unusually cheerful mood and turned to ask a nearby crew member, "Hey, bro, why is everyone so hyped today?"
Even the usually grumpy Bull had been nice to him at lunch, and Wayne's punches had felt a little less merciless than usual.
The crew member a rather mature-looking man frowned and replied, "Bro? I'm only 25, you punk! You don't know why we're excited? We're reaching the City of Freedom today!"
Kuro blinked. He'd been part of Wayne's crew for almost six months, and although he'd heard them mention the City of Freedom before, he had no idea what the place was actually like. Curiosity got the better of him.
"So, uh... little bro, what's the City of Freedom like? What makes it so special to you guys?"
The crewman's eyes softened with nostalgia. "It's a land of freedom and hope... that's what it is."
...
By dusk, Wayne sat at the ship's bow, dozing lightly. Suddenly, a colossal island emerged from the distant horizon.
A grin tugged at Wayne's lips. He stood and shouted back to the deck, "Alright, boys! We're home!"
"Long live the captain! Long live the City of Freedom!"
The crew erupted into cheers.
The City of Freedom had been founded by Wayne five years ago or more accurately, initiated by him. The city had no mayor and no king. It belonged to no one. It was a city built on the very idea of freedom.
Over half of its residents shared a common past they had all once been slaves.
In the beginning, the City of Freedom wasn't a city at all. It was just a small village home to the first 369 slaves Wayne had rescued.
As Wayne continued freeing and ransoming more slaves, the village slowly expanded first into a town, and eventually into a city with a population nearing one million. It had become the heart of everything Wayne had built since arriving in this world his base, his pride, and his legacy.
Its residents included freed slaves, civilians who had been kidnapped and hadn't yet been sold, and even settlers from the Grand Line who had heard stories of a land where true freedom existed.
...
The Apocalypse slowly approached the port of the City of Freedom.
As the ship neared the harbor, Kuro's jaw dropped. The brightly lit port was packed with people shoulder to shoulder all shouting excitedly.
"Lord Wayne is back!"
"Long live Lord Wayne!"
"Wayne, have my babies!"
"..."
A vein bulged on Wayne's forehead. His expression darkened as he pulled out his Den Den Mushi and dialed.
Blub blub.
"Moshi moshi? This is Solomon. Who's calling?"
"It's me. Wayne."
"Oh! Wayne, my dear brother! You made it back to the City of Freedom! Did you see the welcome I arranged for you?"
"You're telling me you called all these people here?"
Wayne glanced out over the crowd. Tens of thousands were packed into the port area, and even more were flooding in from the distance. He was seriously starting to worry there might be a stampede.
Solomon's cheerful voice came through the Den Den Mushi.
"Oh, of course not. I only hinted that you'd be returning. You've been gone for nearly two years, after all!"
Wayne instantly understood. These people had come entirely of their own accord. They weren't forced this was genuine devotion. In this city, Wayne wasn't just a leader. He was a symbol. A beacon.
Solomon continued, "It's been two years. There are a lot of new faces in the city. I figured it was time they learned who saved them... who gave them the life they now cherish."
Wayne said nothing. He knew full well that Solomon's actions weren't simply born of sentiment. This was a calculated move to further cement Wayne's place in the hearts of the people.
Win the people, and you win the world. Even in a world of pirates, that saying still held true.
After a long pause, Wayne's voice came through, low and firm. "Don't do this again. You're disrupting their daily lives. Also... send a team to restore order. We can't even get into the harbor."
Solomon's voice turned playful. "Yes, boss!"
Before long, a fully armored security force appeared about five hundred strong. Most were young, in their early twenties. Some were even teenagers, barely fifteen.
This was one of the City of Freedom's three major security corps: the Free Response Unit, nicknamed the Guardians.
The name came from the English word wish because these young men and women were the city's hope for the future. Though Wayne preferred to call them the Junior Corps.
The Junior Corps were in charge of city security and internal conflict resolution. Even in a utopia, disputes were inevitable. But their presence had kept most tensions at a minimum.
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