Chapter 36
The ruins of God Valley had been transformed.
What had once been a peaceful town was now a killing ground. The Celestial Dragons' tents and viewing platforms rose from the ashes like mushrooms after a rain, their gold and velvet a mockery of the charred earth beneath them.
Saint Top stood at the center of the main platform, his bubble helmet catching the morning light. He raised a glass, and the other Celestial Dragons echoed the gesture.
"Welcome, honored compatriots, to our triennial tradition—the Grand Cleanup!"
Polite applause. The slaves in the pens below did not move. They had learned not to.
"The rules are simple." Saint Top gestured toward the forest. "Anything that moves is a target. We have prepared one hundred and fifty 'common rabbits'—five hundred points each. And thirteen 'rare rabbits,' specially selected from across the world—ten thousand points each."
He paused, savoring the murmurs of excitement. "One shot, one kill earns double points. The hunt lasts three days. The highest scorer will receive a prize worthy of their skill."
He raised his hand. "Begin!"
The cages opened.
The prisoners poured out—not running, not at first. They had been starved, beaten, broken. But the first gunshot, fired by young Saint Marcos, sent them scattering like leaves in a wind.
"I hit him!" Marcos shrieked, his small pistol still smoking. "Father, did you see?"
"A fine shot," Saint Top said, ruffling his son's hair. "But aim for the head next time. Double points."
More shots followed. The Celestial Dragons fired into the crowd with the casual indifference of men at a carnival. The God's Knights moved through the chaos with surgical precision, their blades finding throats, their guns finding hearts. Bodies fell. Blood soaked the grass.
On a higher ridge, one of the Five Elders, Saint Saturn, watched without expression. He held no weapon, drank no wine. He simply observed, as a scholar might observe the movement of ants.
---
Deep in the forest, a group of prisoners huddled in a ditch, their breath shallow, their hands pressed over their mouths.
Bartholomew Kuma, already tall and broad, sheltered two younger prisoners with his body. Beside him, Emporio Ivankov spat mud from his mouth. "This muck is ruining my hair."
"Quiet!" Ginny hissed. Her glasses were cracked, but her eyes were sharp. She had been the one to organize them, to hide them, to send the message that had gone out days ago.
She looked toward the distant harbor, where the Celestial Dragons' fleet sat anchored. "They'll come. The treasure rumor will bring them. Pirates can't resist a chance to steal from the gods."
Kuma said nothing. He only held his position, waiting.
---
Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
Fleet Admiral Kong stared at the intelligence report on his desk. The Rocks Pirates were mobilizing. Every scout, every informant, every whisper pointed to one place: God Valley.
He picked up the Den Den Mushi and dialed.
---
On a sun‑bleached beach in the South Blue, Vice Admiral Garp lay sprawled on a lounge chair, a rice cracker in one hand, a half‑empty bottle beside him. His son, Dragon, sat nearby in a new Marine uniform, looking slightly uncomfortable.
The Den Den Mushi rang. Garp ignored it.
"Dad," Dragon said. "It might be important."
"It can wait."
The Den Den Mushi rang again, longer this time. Garp sighed, picked it up.
"Garp," Kong's voice came through, tight with urgency. "The Rocks Pirates are moving. Their target appears to be God Valley. The Celestial Dragons are already there."
Garp snorted. "Let them fight. Those holy fools have enough guards."
"There's more." Kong paused. "The Roger Pirates are also heading that way."
Garp was on his feet before the words finished. "Where?"
Kong gave him the coordinates. Garp grabbed Dragon by the collar and ran for his ship.
"Dad! What's happening?" Dragon protested, feet dragging in the sand.
"We're going to catch the freest pirate under the sun!" Garp shouted, already laughing.
---
Hachinosu.
The pirate island had never seen such a gathering. Hundreds of ships filled the bay, their crews roaring, drinking, sharpening blades. At the center of it all, the flagship of the Rocks Pirates loomed like a fortress.
On its deck, the legends stood together.
Edward Newgate leaned on his naginata, Murakumogiri, his expression unreadable. Kaido, still young but already massive, drained a barrel of sake and tossed it into the sea. Charlotte Linlin ate from a stack of pastries, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Shiki paced the deck, his swords tapping against his hip.
And at the bow, facing the sea, stood Rocks D. Xebec.
He was not tall, not broad, but the space around him felt heavier, darker. His hair rose like black flames, and his eyes held a hunger that nothing could satisfy.
He raised his hand.
The crew fell silent. Hundreds of pirates, from the lowest deckhands to the most feared captains, turned to him.
"The gods are having a party," Rocks said, his voice low but carrying to every ear. "They didn't invite us."
A slow smile spread across his face. "So we're going to crash it. We'll take everything they have—their treasures, their secrets, their precious valley. And when we're done, they'll know that no god can keep the sea from those who dare to take it."
He thrust his hand toward the horizon. "Set sail!"
The roar that followed shook the walls of Hachinosu.
---
The Oro Jackson cut through the waves, her crew silent, watching the horizon. Word had reached them two days ago—a rumor of treasure, of a valley where the Celestial Dragons played, of a storm gathering that would change everything.
Roger stood at the bow, his usual grin replaced by something quieter, more focused. Rayleigh stood beside him, his hand on his sword.
"Rocks will strike first," Rayleigh said. "He's been waiting for something like this."
Roger nodded. "Then we'll be there to see what happens."
Kyle leaned against the mast, watching the sky. He knew what was coming. God Valley. The clash that would end the Rocks Pirates. The moment that would set Roger's path toward the Pirate King.
He touched the worn bounty poster in his pocket—the first one, 1.5 million Berries—and thought of the boy who had washed up on an island, terrified and alone. That boy was gone. What remained was a man who had sailed with legends, fought beside them, and was about to watch the world turn.
"Nervous?" Jabba asked, falling in beside him.
Kyle shook his head. "Ready."
The Oro Jackson sailed on, toward the smoke rising from a valley that would never be forgotten.
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End of Chapter 36