New World — An Unnamed Island
Members of the Fracture Pirates sat around a bonfire, tearing into roasted meat as empty barrels rolled across the sand.
"Captain Doger… are we really going to side with that man?"
A lanky pirate asked quietly, eyes darting.
"Island-Splitter" Doger ripped off a chunk of meat, chewing noisily before sneering.
"What choice do we have?"
"You think we can survive in the New World on our own strength?"
He gulped down liquor and continued:
"We've been here barely a month and almost got wiped out.
Now the Marines are on our tail too. Without a backer, we're dead sooner or later."
The pirates exchanged uneasy looks.
"But… we don't even know who we're pledging ourselves to."
Doger burst out laughing, tossing the bone aside as he stood.
His massive frame was covered in scars—
proof of the deed that earned him his name: destroying a Marine base with a single blow.
"That's the Flying Lion himself!"
"Golden Lion Shiki!"
"As long as we join the Flying Pirates, forget the Marines—
even Whitebeard or Roger's crew would think twice!"
"Golden Lion?!"
Excitement rippled through the crew.
But one pirate hesitated.
"Captain… we've never even met him. Isn't this reckless?"
"Relax." Doger kicked over a barrel.
"I've already made contact with one of Shiki's subordinates."
Confidence spread.
Then—
BOOOOM!
A deafening blast shook the island.
The ground convulsed violently.
The bonfire scattered into sparks.
"Earthquake?!"
"No!" Doger snarled, stabilizing himself. "This isn't one."
He stared toward the shore.
A Marine warship floated silently offshore.
And from its bow—
A lone figure rose into the air.
"…The Marines again," Doger muttered darkly.
"And this time… it's someone dangerous."
Ten minutes earlier — Marine warship
Gern lay back lazily in a chair, a newspaper covering his face.
On deck, Marines hurried nervously.
"Report! Target confirmed—Fracture Pirates resting on the island's west side!"
"No other pirate crews detected nearby!"
Gern lifted the newspaper slightly, one calm eye visible.
"Oh… finally."
"Chased them for a week."
He stood, draping his Justice cloak over his shoulders.
"When do we deploy, Captain?" a sergeant asked.
"Deploy?" Gern glanced at him.
"No. You stay here."
"…Sir?"
"I'll handle it alone."
"But—Captain! That's a crew worth over three hundred million!"
Gern gently pressed the Marine's cap down.
"If we land together and start fighting—
every one of you could die."
"I'd hate that."
The deck fell silent.
Then—
"CAPTAIN—!!!"
Tears streamed down faces.
"He's ruthless to pirates… but so gentle to his own!"
"All right." Gern waved.
"Get ready to secure prisoners.
Though… there may not be many."
Before they could reply—
He stepped off the ship.
BOOM!
Air compressed beneath his feet, forming solid ground.
"Island-Splitter Doger…"
"Three hundred sixty million. Armament Haki. Split-Split Fruit."
"…No problem."
White particles trailed behind him as he shot toward the island.
The island
Doger waited at the front.
"Only one man?" the first mate whispered.
"Should we kill him?"
"No."
Doger's instincts screamed.
The air itself trembled.
Gern landed lightly.
A shockwave rippled outward.
"Yo," he said lazily.
"Heard you're planning to join Golden Lion."
Doger's pupils shrank.
"How—?!"
"Marine intelligence."
"It's entertaining."
Gern drew Black Blade Eight Desolations.
Bandages fell away.
"But sorry."
"Plans change."
"Just you?" Doger sneered.
"You need at least a Rear Admiral to catch me!"
"You're right."
Gern smiled coldly.
"Just me."
"Quake-Step: Slide Rail!"
Compressed vibration formed beneath his foot—
FLASH!
He appeared beside Doger.
"Commencing—Quake Justice."
BOOOOM!
The island collapsed inward.
Doger blocked with Armament—
—but still bled.
"T-this guy… is really just a Captain?!"