"Me first!"
"I'm second!"
"I'm the..."
"Hey! No cutting in line! Have you no manners?!"
"I'm a pirate, and my fist is the only rule I follow—get to the back!"
"Fine, I'm going..."
Soon, a winding, twisted long line formed, stretching as far as the eye could see.
The pirates who couldn't get in line had no choice but to turn reluctantly toward Saint Donquixote on the other side.
"Tsk... this guy really stinks."
One pirate pinched his nose, looking at Saint Donquixote with disgust.
"No problem, just wash him clean with water."
Another pirate grinned, picking up a bucket of seawater and splashing it over him.
"Splash—"
Saint Donquixote was jolted awake by the cold water. Before he could grasp the situation, he was pinned to the ground.
Hachinosu Island was never short of "creative" villains, and the identity of a Celestial Dragon only fueled their sadistic desires to the extreme.
There was even a dedicated photographer following the entire process, capturing every disgraceful and humiliating moment of the Celestial Dragon on camera.
Each photo was shocking, each one pushing the limits of human imagination.
Through the vast intelligence network of the Rocks Pirates, these photos were reproduced by the thousands, placed in waterproof envelopes, and continuously distributed worldwide through secret channels.
They were slipped into the bedchambers of royal palaces, delivered to Marine branch offices, scattered on the streets of bustling towns, and even sent to the gates of the Holy Land Mariejois.
And so—
The entire world was thrown into an uproar.
It was an unprecedented, all-encompassing shockwave.
Everyone who saw those photos felt their scalps tingle and a chill run down their spines.
"Is... is this real?"
"A Celestial Dragon... treated like this?"
"The Rocks Pirates... how dare they?!"
"They're insane... completely insane..."
While ordinary civilians were stunned, a complex, indescribable emotion welled up in their hearts.
It was the satisfaction of seeing their oppressors trampled underfoot after enduring long-term suppression.
Though they didn't dare speak it or show it, that feeling quietly sprouted in their hearts.
The royal families of various nations felt fear.
The humiliation of a Celestial Dragon meant the World Government's authority had faced an unprecedented challenge.
And rulers whose authority was damaged often resorted to even crueler methods to maintain control.
What would follow was likely a storm of blood and violence that would sweep across the entire world.
The reactions among pirate crews varied:
Some were excited, feeling that a great era had arrived.
Some were fearful, afraid of being dragged into the vortex.
Others watched coldly from the sidelines, waiting for the right moment.
But regardless of their reaction, everyone understood one thing:
The Rocks Pirates' actions were too insane, once again redefining the limits of "madness" in the world's perception.
They had completely torn off all pretenses and ignited the world's powder keg.
The fuse was already lit, and its end would be an explosion capable of burning everything to ashes.
...
Three days later.
Holy Land Mariejois, Pangaea Castle, the Five Elders' conference room.
The atmosphere was unusually heavy.
Around the round table, the five highest rulers of the world sat with faces ashen.
Dozens of photographs were spread across the table, each capturing scenes of Celestial Dragons being humiliated.
The topmost photo showed the exact moment Raiver Sky crushed Saint Donquixote's right hand under his foot.
The photo was taken from an excellent angle, clearly capturing Raiver Sky's cold expression, Saint Donquixote's contorted face, and the mangled, bloody hand.
Another photo showed several pirates surrounding Saint Donquixote.
Every image tested the Five Elders' nerves, trampling upon the order and dignity the World Government had built over eight hundred years.
"Bastards... Damn them... Unforgivable!"
The voice of the golden-haired, short-bearded Elder trembled with extreme fury:
"The Rocks Pirates—how dare they?! How dare they?!"
"Celestial Dragons are descendants of gods, the symbol of the World Nobles!
Such blasphemy, such humiliation—this is a declaration of war against the entire World Government!"
The white-haired Elder slowly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he reopened them, his gaze was icy:
"Immediately issue the order: All Marines mobilize. Target: Hachinosu Island in the New World."
"I want that island—and every member of the Rocks Pirates—wiped completely off the map."
"Including those two... Celestial Dragons who have become stains."
His voice was flat, yet carried a killing intent more terrifying than any roar.
Celestial Dragons could die, but they must not be humiliated.
A humiliated Celestial Dragon had lost their qualification as "descendants of gods" and became a stain that must be erased.
The other three Elders remained silent for a moment, then spoke simultaneously:
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
The order was given.
War had become inevitable.
...
"Bwooo—! Bwooo—! Bwooo—!!!"
The tranquil Marineford was abruptly torn apart by the shrill, piercing alarm of the highest combat readiness level.
On the training grounds, drilling soldiers looked up at the sound.
Officers immediately barked sharp commands:
"All units assemble! Now!"
In offices, officers handling documents shot to their feet, grabbing their swords and documents before rushing out the door.
In barracks, resting soldiers leaped from their beds, donning their gear at top speed.
"Level One combat readiness. It seems the higher-ups have made their decision."
A middle-aged Vice Admiral stood by a corridor window, watching the tide of soldiers flooding toward the square below, his expression grave.
"The Rocks Pirates have truly lost their minds, daring to humiliate Celestial Dragons like this... All-out war is unavoidable now," a Rear Admiral beside him murmured.
Marines across the base moved at the command, all discussion replaced by urgent, heavy footsteps.
Five minutes.
In just five minutes, the entire Marineford's forces had assembled.
In front of Marine Headquarters building, at the crescent-moon bay square.
Dark, orderly formations of Marines stood at attention, fully armed, radiating chilling killing intent.
Soldiers wore unified white uniforms, holding standard-issue rifles or swords, their eyes resolute, faces solemn.
The ranks stretched uniformly to the horizon.
On the high platform, Kong stood wearing the Fleet Admiral's Coat of Justice, billowing in the wind.
His face looked more aged than three days prior, but his eyes remained sharp as an eagle's.
On either side of him stood two Marine Admirals, their expressions equally grave.
On the left stood Admiral "Qiongqi" Kleist, his bandages removed and replaced with a brand new admiral uniform.
On the right stood Admiral "Zhu Yan" Li Wusi, still as steady as a mountain, yet with cold flames burning in his eyes.
Below the platform, over twenty vice admirals including Garp, Sengoku, Zephyr, and Tsuru stood in a single line, their Haki soaring like a rainbow.
Further behind were nearly a hundred rear admirals and commodores, along with thousands of commissioned officers.
And now, this force had only one target—Hachinosu Island.