To begin with, even among the countless strange and chaotic nations of the One Piece world, the Kingdom of Lulusia was considered particularly ill-fated.
Generation after generation, the kings grew weaker and more incompetent, while the amount of Heavenly Tribute they were required to pay increased year by year.
Even after the World Summit had reduced the tribute several times, the taxes and levies imposed on the citizens remained unbearably heavy.
And due to its peculiar geographic position—with no proper nations nearby and surrounded by seas belonging to either unclaimed or non-affiliated territories—the waters around Lulusia teemed with pirates all year round.
In the old days, when the Kingdom of Lulusia was still strong, those pirates wouldn't have dared harbor any thoughts of invasion.
But as the nation continued to decline, it slowly transformed from a porcupine that no one dared touch into a fat sheep that everyone wanted a piece of.
Not to mention that in the future, it would be completely erased from the map by Imu himself.
The commoners living in this country were truly cursed by fate—haunted by death at every turn, from the highest seat of power down to the streets.
It wasn't until the Revolutionary Army set up an office in the Kingdom of Lulusia that its citizens finally began to breathe again.
Whether through aid for the desperately poor or efforts to improve the living conditions of ordinary people, the Revolutionary Army became a symbol of hope—a promise of life itself.
However, after the World Summit in the year 1516 of the Sea Circle Calendar, King Seki returned to Lulusia and changed completely.
Previously, he had turned a blind eye to the Revolutionary Army's activities within his borders. After all, a wealthier populace meant more benefits for him.
But this time, without hesitation, he expelled all Revolutionary Army offices from Lulusia.
He did not want to be branded a traitor by the World Government or by the other affiliated nations over a few scraps of profit.
King Seki believed that at times like these, one should cling tighter to the legs of the World Government and the Celestial Dragons.
As for the Revolutionary Army? "Just a bunch of worthless scum," he thought.
Even their Chief of Staff, who had gone undercover in the Marines for years, was now forced into hiding—too afraid to show his face again.
"Humph! The Kingdom of Lulusia is my property!"
"It is only right that the lowborn sacrifice everything for their king!"
Seated high in his palace chambers, King Seki looked down upon his kingdom from on high, completely oblivious to what was unfolding on the distant coast—where the fleet of the Revolutionary Army was silently approaching Lulusia's shores.
The king did not know, lost as he was in the intoxicating pleasure of his own authority.
The royal family did not know either—this hour was their favorite time for indulgence and excess.
Nor did the guards know...
The truth was, most of Lulusia's soldiers were old, weak, or crippled, still clinging to their posts.
And they no longer served the king—they stayed only for the sake of the people.
Thus, when they discovered the Revolutionary fleet, they did not hesitate.
They guided the ships straight into the harbor, discreetly taking out the few remaining loyal spies of King Seki.
Moments later, a group of dockworkers—people who made their living by the piers—emerged from the port.
As if following a prearranged plan, each took charge of a district, running through the streets, knocking on doors, waking the people of Lulusia.
And those people, as though they had long been waiting for this day, lifted their torches and began gathering toward the grand plaza at the heart of the kingdom.
There, standing among the growing crowd, was a man dressed in a long white robe. Two pairs of pristine white wings unfurled from his back as he gently greeted every Lulusia citizen who came to him.
In his eyes glimmered compassion, hope...
And above all, a storm of righteous fury.
The people knew—that rage was not aimed at them, but at the corrupt and useless royal family who had ruled them for generations.
"An angel... Is the angel-sama here to save us?"
The sudden voice of a little girl broke through the murmurs of the crowd. "Can we really live better lives from now on?"
Silence fell.
No one knew what the future would hold after this night —but all of them knew it could only be better than the life they had endured until now.
Michael lifted his head and looked toward the girl.
Then his eyes lit up.
"Moda? You're Moda, right?" Michael smiled warmly. "Your parents are chefs at the Marine G-2 Branch, Koda and Kyuji, aren't they? I happen to know Vice Admiral, the Base Commander of G-2. We're old friends."
"Y-you know my parents, angel-sama?"
"You may call me an angel if you wish, but I'm not someone who stands above you." Michael stepped closer and knelt before her.
"In fact, I'd prefer if you called me Michael."
"Mi... Michael."
"Mm." Michael smiled and gently ruffled her hair. "I've come to liberate you."
At those words, Moda's tears burst forth uncontrollably.
But they were not tears of pain or despair —they were tears of release, of joy.
Around her, others too began to cry as her sobs spread through the crowd.
Moda's parents worked for the Marines, so her life in Lulusia had been relatively comfortable.
And yet, even she had lost hope for the future —until the day Michael appeared.
"Shi—ha! Michael, you sly devil!"
Just as the emotional atmosphere reached its peak, a comically large head suddenly pushed its way in from the side.
"Have you no shame at all?"
"…Ivankov! You sure know how to ruin a moment!" Michael groaned, looking up helplessly at the okama king, Emporio Ivankov. "Is everyone ready?"
"Of course!" Ivankov struck a flamboyant Y-shaped pose and grinned. "This is the first armed revolution since the Revolutionary Army's long silence! Everyone's beyond excited!"
Michael nodded.
The Revolutionary Army had been dormant for ten long years.
But that silence had been unavoidable.
Most of the members from the Four Seas had retreated to the rear to establish logistics bases, leaving the frontlines critically undermanned.
That quiet decade had not only lessened the World Government's vigilance but had also allowed time to train and raise a new generation of front-line revolutionaries.
And now, among the fleet Michael commanded, aside from a few veterans, the vast majority were newly recruited and trained within those ten years.
Today marked the day they would truly step onto the path of revolution.
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