EXTRA! EXTRA! SPECIAL EDITION WORLD ECONOMIC JOURNAL!
THE TRAGEDY OF DRESSROSA: THE DEMONIC COALITION OF THE NEW ERA RAZES A SOVEREIGN KINGDOM!
By: Big News Morgans
A day of absolute, unprecedented horror has descended upon the New World! The peaceful, historic Kingdom of Dressrosa was placed under attack. Yesterday morning, a terrifying, unholy alliance consisting of the most vicious remnants of the old world and the most unhinged monsters of the rising generation launched a coordinated, completely unprovoked assault on the sovereign nation, reducing centuries of beautiful architecture and thousands of innocent lives to absolute ash!
According to classified intelligence reports secured directly from the front lines, the architect of this monstrous slaughter is none other than the "Red-Haired" Shanks, captain of the notorious Red Hair Pirates. Driven by a sickening, insatiable greed for an ancient, hidden treasure, Shanks mobilized a terrifying coalition, dragging in elite vanguards from the world's most dangerous pirate empires. Eyewitnesses confirmed the horrifying presence of "Phoenix" Marco of the Whitebeard Pirates, Charlotte Katakuri of the Big Mom Pirates, and "Wildfire" King of the Beast Pirates!
For hours, these bloodthirsty fiends systematically pulverized the royal plateau, utilizing cataclysmic powers to slaughter the royal guard. When Marine Admiral Kizaru heroically arrived on the scene with a defensive fleet to shield the screaming citizens, he was met with the true face of modern evil.
Reports indicate that Shanks, alongside his terrifyingly vicious right-hand monster named Norwell D. Giovanni, launched a cowardly, synchronized execution attempt on the Admiral. Giovanni, executing a display of raw, unhinged cruelty that shocked even the hardened Marine vanguards, used an ancient, cursed sword to carve open the defensive line, forcing the heroic Admiral into a desperate, bloody standstill while the rest of the pirate coalition tore the island's foundations apart to secure their stolen prize.
The World Government has issued an absolute, zero-tolerance decree against this unholy alliance. These are not mere outlaws; they are a walking natural disaster threatening the very fabric of global peace. Let the world take note of their faces, for they represent the absolute apex of malice!
In light of the utter devastation of Dressrosa and the direct, near-fatal assault on a Marine Admiral, the Marine Headquarters have radically adjusted the threat levels of the perpetrators. The new bounties have been dispatched across all four seas with an immediate order: DEAD OR ALIVE.
"Red-Haired" Shanks – 1,200,000,000 Berries
"The Calamity" Norwell D. Giovanni – 1,050,000,000 Berries
Marco the Phoenix – 1,080,000,000 Berries
King the Wildfire – 1,020,000,000 Berries
Charlotte Katakuri – 1,000,000,000 Berries
Benn Beckman – 950,000,000 Berries
Lucky Roux – 760,000,000 Berries
Limejuice – 400,000,000 Berries
Yasopp – 370,000,000 Berries
Slam!
The pristine, morning wood of the ship's galley table violently groaned as Giovanni slammed the freshly delivered edition of the World Economic Journal flat against the timber. His upper body was still heavily bound in Hongo's tight medical bandages, and every sudden movement caused a sharp spike of residual pain, but his physical agony was completely eclipsed by pure, unadulterated ego-driven rage.
"One billion, fifty million?!" Giovanni roared, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull as he stared down at the crisp, glossy bounty poster bearing his own face. "Are you kidding me right now?! I literally carried the final defensive line! I split an immortal god down the middle! I am the one who carved a hole through a Marine Admiral! Why the hell am I fifty million Berries below Shanks?!"
Across the table, Shanks was leaning back in his chair, a massive wooden mug of ale balanced precariously on his knee. He took one look at Giovanni's furious, twitching face and burst into a loud, booming roar of pure, unbridled amusement.
"Hahaha! Oh, man, my stomach!" Shanks laughed so hard his straw hat tilted forward, his hand slapping his knee violently. "Fifty million is a massive chasm, kid! The World Government clearly sees who the real captain of this ship is! You've still got a century of experience to rack up before you can even look at my shadow, rookie!"
"Shut up, you lazy, sake-guzzling ginger!" Giovanni snarled, flipping the poster over to glare at the bold, sweeping black ink beneath his name. "And what the hell is this?! 'WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE - THE CALAMITY'. The Calamity?! What kind of basic, uninspired, uncreative edge-lord nickname is that?! Am I a severe thunderstorm? Am I an unexpected harvest blight? What is so calamitous about me?! I am a refined, elegant swordsman utilizing high-tier combat mathematics!"
"It suits you perfectly." Lucky Roux chimed in from the stove, casually tearing off a massive chunk of roasted pork belly with his teeth. "You did step onto the island, bankrupt the local casino, pick a fight with an Admiral, and then summon a giant hurricane of Haki that literally turned the city into a giant soup bowl. If that's not a calamity, I don't know what is."
Giovanni's eye twitched violently. Desperate to soothe his deeply bruised pride, his gaze rapidly scanned the deck, searching for an easy target to deflect his frustration onto. His eyes locked onto the far corner of the galley bench, where Yasopp was quietly nursing a cup of black coffee.
"Hey... Yasopp," Giovanni said, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth, mocking purr as he slid the sniper's bounty poster across the table. "Take a good, hard look at that number. Three hundred and seventy million? Man... even Limejuice beat you by a clean thirty million Berries. Are you sure you're the elite, world-class vanguard sniper of the Red Hair Pirates, or are you just the ship's glorified pest control? Because right now, the Marines think you're worth about as much as a couple of high-tier Sea King fillets."
Yasopp frozen mid-sip. He looked down at his own poster, then slowly slid his eyes over to Limejuice's glossy new four-hundred-million-berry print.
Thud.
Without a single word of rebuttal, the proud sniper of the Red Hair Pirates dropped straight out of his seat, falling flat onto his face on the wooden deck planks. A dark, comically localized storm cloud of pure, unadulterated despair seemed to materialize directly over his head as he began to weep loudly into the wood. "Thirty million... thirty million less than the guy who fights with an electric umbrella... I've been a member of this crew since day one... my reputation in the East Blue is completely ruined... my own son is going to look at this and laugh at me..."
"Hey! Don't drag my umbrella into this, you broke sniper!" Limejuice yelled from the deck doorway, defensively polishing the handle of his weapon.
"Quit playing around, you absolute idiots," Benn Beckman's cold, authoritative voice cut through the comedic chaos like a razor.
The first mate of the Red Hair Pirates was sitting near the deck, a thick cloud of blue tobacco smoke exhaling from his lips as his sharp, dark eyes remained fixed on the text of Morgans' fabricated article. His expression was completely devoid of amusement.
"Beckman?" Shanks asked, his laughter instantly dying down as he recognized the serious register in his partner's voice.
"Look at the narrative they're weaving here," Beckman said, tapping his finger against the paper. "There isn't a single mention of Saint Saturn. There isn't a single mention of the Gorosei or the eldritch form we witnessed on that plateau. They completely erased the World Government's divine failure from the public record and shifted the absolute blame for the entire island's physical erasure onto our shoulders. They aren't just raising our bounties to reflect our strength, Shanks. They are turning us into the ultimate public villains. They are setting the stage so that the next time they deploy an Admiral or a Buster Call against us, the civilian world will cheer for our absolute execution."
Giovanni's smirk slowly faded, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back against his pillows. He felt the heavy weight of the cutlass Ace resting against his chair
---
Deep beneath the surface of the ocean, trapped within the absolute, suffocating darkness of the Great Prison Impel Down, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Level 3. The Starvation Hell. The ambient temperature here was a constant, agonizing wave of dry, blistering heat rising directly from the boiling cauldrons of Level 4 below. The floor was covered in a thick layer of coarse, burning desert sand, and the air was thick with the faint, continuous sound of rattling iron chains and the hollow, dry coughs of emaciated prisoners who had long since forgotten the taste of clean water.
In one of the deepest, most heavily fortified isolation cells along the central corridor, a man sat perfectly motionless against the rough stone wall.
Norwell D. Renji.
The father of Giovanni looked like a shadow of a human being. His broad frame was severely emaciated, his ribs protruding sharply beneath a tattered, grime-covered prisoner uniform. Heavy, oversized Seastone cuffs wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, the dark gray metal chaining him directly to the solid iron rings embedded deep within the bedrock. His skin was caked in dried blood and prison dust, and his long, dark hair fell wildly over his face.
The heavy, rhythmic echoing of steel boots suddenly shattered the silence of the corridor.
A high-ranking Impel Down jailer guard marched up to the cell bars, his iron baton clattering noisily against the rusted metal structure. His face was twisted into an expression of deep, unadulterated disgust. Without a word, he reached into his vest, pulled out a heavily crumpled, sweat-stained copy of the latest World Economic Journal, and violently hurled it through the bars, letting it slap against the sand right beside Renji's bare, scarred feet.
"Hey! You rotting piece of pirate scum! Wake up!" the guard barked, his voice echoing sharply down the quiet hallway. "Look at this. It seems your useless, pathetic spawn has been making quite a name for himself out in the sunlight."
Renji's head slowly, agonizingly tilted upward. His chapped, bleeding lips parted slightly as his hollow, dark eyes scanned the crumpled front page, instantly locking onto the massive, bold print of the new bounty listings and the glaring, confident face of Giovanni staring back from the billion-berry poster.
For three seconds, the cell was completely silent.
Then, deep within Renji's chest, a low, dry vibration began to form. The vibration rapidly expanded, transforming into a deep, guttural, and absolutely thunderous roar of pure, unbridled laughter that echoed violently off the stone walls of Level 3, causing the surrounding prisoners to stir in their sleep.
"Gahahahaha! Gahahahaha!" Renji roared, his Seastone chains rattling violently against the stone floor as his chest heaved with immense pride. "That's my boy! Look at that face! A billion-berry bounty already?! He's barely even started his run out there! Two very dangerous, entirely volatile bloodlines run through those veins, you pathetic government dogs! I wouldn't expect a single berry less from my own flesh and blood!"
The guard's face contorted in pure rage, his hand tightening on his iron baton as he slammed it against the bars again. "Shut your filthy mouth, criminal! You're a walking corpse trapped in the dark! Your son is nothing but a localized disaster who will eventually be hunted down and slaughtered by the Admirals just like the rest of your trash generation!"
The guard stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Renji's emaciated form with a mixture of disgust and deep, underlying terror. "And frankly, it completely baffles me how you are even still drawing breath. You haven't touched the slop we throw into this cell in over a week. You haven't had a single drop of water in four days. By all medical logic, your internal organs should have completely failed from dehydration days ago. Why won't you just die already?!"
Renji's laughter slowly subsided into a low, rumbling chuckle. He let his head drop back against the damp, hot stone wall of his cell, a small, terrifyingly confident smirk playing on his chapped lips as his eyes closed once more.
"Die?" Renji muttered to himself, his voice dropping into a quiet register that completely ignored the guard's presence. "This level of petty torture is absolutely nothing... Clean air and a hot grill can wait a little longer. My boy is out there setting the world on fire..."
His fingers loosely curled into a fist within his heavy iron cuffs.
"...Don't underestimate a Davy, you absolute idiot."
---
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