Loguetown Harbor. The Town of Beginnings and Endings.
This island was a melting pot of dreams and desperation, crowded with merchants, Marines, and pirates all preparing for the nightmare of the Grand Line.
As the streamlined black hull of the Black Eclipse glided into the harbor, a ripple of fear spread through the docks.
"Look at that flag..." a bounty hunter whispered, his face draining of color.
High on the mainmast, a visually arresting Jolly Roger fluttered in the wind. A ghastly white skull sat centered between two crimson-gold wings, all encircled by a ring of dark red flames—the corona of an Eclipse.
Death. Divinity. The Fire that consumes all.
It was the mark of the crew that had just shattered every bounty record in the East Blue.
"Carina, Sabo. Take the town," Ace commanded as he stepped down the gangplank, his dark red trench coat billowing. "Find the highest-grade Log Poses. The Grand Line's magnetic fields are chaos; without them, speed means nothing."
"Leave it to me, Captain," Carina said, patting her leather purse. With Sabo—a 30-million-Berry enforcer—at her side, she could walk through Loguetown like she owned the streets.
Ace turned to Buggy, who was trying to sneak back into the cabin for a nap.
"Buggy. Head to the back-street markets. I want a hundred barrels of rum and juice, plus enough premium meat and spices for fifteen days. We meet at the central square at dusk."
"A HUNDRED BARRELS?!" Buggy shrieked. "I'm a legendary pirate, not a pack mule! Why do I always get the grunt work?!"
"Because you're the Master of Logistics," Ace replied smoothly, waving him off. "Don't be late for the banquet."
"Bastard Captain... no respect for his elders..." Buggy grumbled, but he honestly hitched a massive flatbed cart to his belt and stomped toward the market, cursing every step.
Thirty minutes later. A remote back alley.
Ace pushed open the creaking wooden door of a dilapidated tavern. The sign was hanging by a single rusted nail. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged spirits and dust.
Behind the bar, an old man with graying hair—Raoul—was slowly wiping a glass. Behind him hung a massive skull pierced by a sword.
"The Gold Roger Bar," Ace murmured, sliding onto a stool. "Give me your strongest."
Raoul paused, his eyes narrowing as he took in the young man's massive frame and steady, crushing aura. He poured a glass of pungent, raw spirits and slid it across the wood.
"You aren't a typical East Blue brat," Raoul grunted. "This town is full of idiots who scream at the execution platform just to feel important. It's been a long time since a real monster walked through that door."
"Is that so?" Ace downed the drink in one go, the fire of the alcohol burning his throat. He looked at the skull on the wall. "I heard a certain man used to drink here before he changed the world."
"Roger..." Raoul's eyes clouded with memory. "That idiot drank enough to fill a sea. He used his death to open an era, but he only attracted cowards who want the treasure without the struggle."
Raoul stared at Ace. "Young man... you have that same terrifying light in your eyes. That ambition."
Ace didn't ask about Roger's "One Piece" or his secrets. To him, Roger was a pioneer of a dead age. He didn't need to follow Roger; he needed to surpass him.
"Good drink, old man," Ace said, flicking a gold coin onto the bar with a clink. "But eras change. The King of the Old Era is dead. Someone has to sit on the throne of the New."
Ace walked out into the sunlight, leaving the old bartender in a stunned silence.
Meanwhile. An underground warehouse district.
"This is exhausting!" Buggy groaned, dragging his mountain of rum barrels through a narrow alley. "Those liquor merchants wouldn't even offer delivery! Do they think I'm Superman?!"
Suddenly, Buggy froze. His years of survival instinct screamed at him. He peered around a stack of crates at a clearing.
Two rival gangs were meeting in the shadows.
"Did you bring the cash?" a scarred boss asked, opening a velvet-lined box. Inside sat a translucent, pale green fruit covered in strange spiral patterns.
"One hundred million Berries," the other boss replied, patting two black cases. "Pricey for a fruit we can't identify, but on the black market, a Devil Fruit is a golden ticket."
Buggy's eyes turned into giant Berries. A Devil Fruit? And a hundred million in cash?!
Old Buggy would have run. But this Buggy had been sparred with by Sabo and Ace for weeks. He was equipped with Sea Prism Stone knuckles.
"Fortune favors the Great Buggy-sama! Hahaha!"
Buggy stepped into the light, his laughter echoing arrogantly.
"WHO'S THERE?!" The gangsters swung their muskets toward the red nose.
"It's 'Clown' Buggy! The 15-million-Berry freak!" the scarred boss yelled. "Kill him!"
BANG! BANG!
Bullets rained down. Buggy didn't even flinch. His torso split into dozens of floating slices, the lead passing harmlessly through the gaps.
"He's a monster!"
"Chop-Chop Flying Fist!"
Buggy's hands, clad in Sea Prism knuckles, shot forward like cannonballs.
CRACK! THUD!
The two bosses didn't even see the strike. Their noses shattered, and they were out cold before they hit the dirt. The remaining lackeys dropped their guns and fled, screaming about demons.
In under a minute, Buggy reassembled. He stuffed the green fruit into his shirt and grabbed the money cases.
"One hundred million and a Devil Fruit!" Buggy cackled, throwing the loot onto his cart of rum. "Let's see Carina try to call me useless now!"
Two hours later. Loguetown Central Square.
Ace, Sabo, and Carina met at the edge of the square just as Buggy arrived, dragging his groaning flatbed cart.
"Captain! Look what the 'Master of Logistics' found!" Buggy crowed, presenting the fruit and the money.
Ace opened the box. His eyes sharpened. He recognized it instantly.
Paramecia: The Barrier-Barrier Fruit.
The "Absolute Defense."
"Where did you get this?" Carina gasped, staring at the 100 million in cash.
Buggy puffed out his chest, spinning a tale of his heroic solo raid. Sabo and Carina shared a look of genuine shock.
Ace closed the box and handed the fruit to Sabo. He looked at Buggy with a satisfied smirk. This was why Buggy was on the ship. His luck was a literal superpower.
"Well done, Buggy," Ace said.
Then, he turned toward the center of the square. A towering steel structure loomed over the town—the execution platform where Gold Roger had died.
"Finally," Ace whispered, a cold, dark glint in his eyes.
"Let's go. It's time to close the book on the East Blue."