North Blue – Filbert Island
The sky was painted in blood and fire.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire and cannon blasts tore through the streets like a storm. Hundreds of Marines surrounded a mafia stronghold, launching a full-scale assault under the cover of night.
Smoke billowed, walls crumbled, and explosions tore massive holes into the concrete barricades. Rubble rained from the heavens.
"Damn it! Where the hell did the Marines get weapons ?!"
A mafia officer in a torn black suit, his face streaked with blood, dragged himself out from a collapsed wall, eyes bloodshot with rage and panic.
This was the Snoke Family—one of the most powerful criminal syndicates on Filbert Island. They ruled over the island's underground for miles in every direction—controlling smuggling, gambling, liquor, brothels, and black market trade.
They had firearms, explosives, manpower in the hundreds—enough to deter even mid-sized pirate crews.
And yet tonight, it all crumbled in seconds.
Their empire of decadence, vice, and excess... vaporized under fire and steel.
One blast had snapped York Snoke awake. He'd shot up from bed in confusion, his ears ringing as chaos thundered all around him. Explosions screamed past—he couldn't even tell what was hitting what.
The estate. The weapons depot. The courtyards. The meeting halls. The very ground—
Everything was shaking.
Marine bombardment rained relentlessly. Most of the Snoke officers never even made it out—buried alive under their own collapsing walls.
York stood frozen, stunned as he watched wave after wave of Marines move in with precision. Trained. Disciplined. Equipped with weapons he'd never seen before.
Flamethrowers that scorched the air.
Electro-guns crackling with blue lightning.
Portable chain guns, spinning barrels roaring.
And even... shoulder-mounted rocket launchers?!
What kind of Marine branch was this?!
A missile exploded overhead. The domed roof of the church shattered, raining stone and steel across the estate.
A massive shadow loomed over York.
In that final moment, just before the rubble came crashing down, he saw him.
A goofy-looking Marine in wooden sandals... hands in his pockets... walking casually through the flames.
He lifted an entire house off the ground.
The home arced into the sky and slammed back down, demolishing what remained of the Snoke compound into a smoldering ruin.
In the thick smoke, Tokikake stared at his hands.
When... did I get this strong?
He'd only meant to test himself. He never thought he could actually lift a damn building.
"Lieutenant Commander Tokikake is amazing!!"
"He's even stronger than the Germa tech we've seen!!"
"Absolutely incredible! Truly a Headquarters elite!!"
The surrounding Marines erupted into cheers, eyes full of awe.
Tokikake's chest swelled with pride. Hands on hips, he let out a boisterous laugh.
"Of course!! I'm a natural-born genius!!"
He glanced disdainfully at a Marine holding a machine gun.
"Guns... What a primitive, brutish way to fight."
Meanwhile—another island.
Another mafia hideout burned under the onslaught.
A different Marine unit had already breached the perimeter.
"Damn you Marines!! You're not giving us a chance!!"
A burly mafia boss with a bushy mustache charged forward, wielding a massive steel shield. Like a bull, he plowed into the front line, scattering Marines in all directions.
"Hahaha!! See that?! THAT'S power!!"
But his laughter was cut short.
The sound of a blade rang through the night.
He turned toward it—toward the fire.
From the flames walked a tall figure in high heels, her steps calm, graceful... terrifying.
She had dark hair tied in a bun. A beauty mark below her lip. A short pink skirt. And a body built like sin.
Over her shoulders, her Marine coat billowed through the smoke like wings.
In her hand—a long golden blade that shimmered with reflected firelight.
If this were a different night, the boss might've tried to bed her.
Now, he was afraid to breathe.
A line split across his shield.
A thin line of blood bloomed like a flower.
"...What a fast sword..."
His voice croaked as both he and his shield fell in two.
Gion stood above him, calm and cold, her blade sliding smoothly back into its sheath.
"In the name of justice... I sentence you to death."
Behind her, the Marines charged. Screams and gunfire rang out again. Gion remained still, deep in thought.
"I've gotten stronger..."
She whispered to herself.
The hellish training of the past ten days—fighting that monster—had pushed her far beyond her limits.
She hadn't noticed because that man always kept her under his heel. The gap between them was too vast.
Now she could feel it.
She clenched her fists.
"...Still not enough."
A luxurious private estate. Opulence in every corner.
The home of the Rockefeller Family, one of the most powerful syndicates in the archipelago.
Inside the master bedroom, Jermansa, the family patriarch, shot up from sleep. He grabbed the pistol beneath his pillow and opened fire toward the corner of the room.
Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off metal.
From the shadows stepped a stern-faced Marine in uniform, his cap low over his eyes. His blade gleamed in the dim light.
Jermansa's pupils shrank.
His mistress cowered in fear, clutching the blankets close.
Momonga walked forward.
His blade dripped blood.
"You broke the rules."
He spoke without emotion.
"And so—Rogers Darren, Supreme Commander of the North Blue... sends his regards."
The blade flashed once in the dark.
Blood sprayed across the silk sheets.
The woman's scream echoed through the entire mansion.