In Zone 7 of the Lawless Area, a ship slowly docked along the shore. One by one, the men aboard disembarked, each pushing small carts covered in black cloth.
The outlines beneath the fabric were unmistakable.
Iron cages.
The surrounding onlookers watched with open disgust. These were slave traders. Even among criminals, slave traders were scum.
After all, no one wanted to become a slave.
And in a place like the Sabaody Archipelago, the fate of slaves was rarely anything but tragic.
Still, no one intervened. They would not court trouble. After living in Sabaody long enough, the greatest "growth" one could achieve was learning to get used to certain horrors.
Besides, the slave traders were numerous and armed. Interfering could easily cost them their lives, or worse, land them in cages of their own.
"Haha! This is a great haul! That big one alone will keep us set for a long time!" one of the traders laughed, completely ignoring the hostile stares.
When he first entered the trade, he had felt anger at the glares. Now he felt nothing.
In this prosperous archipelago, evil thrived openly. And getting used to it was often the most terrifying part.
"That guy shouldn't be able to move yet, right? We lost a lot of men catching him," another trader muttered, glancing nervously at the largest cart.
The iron cage on it was nearly five meters tall.
"It's been a while. What if the anesthetic wears off? If he recovers, that'll be trouble. Should we give him another dose?"
"No need. Too much hassle. We're already back. Nothing's going to happen in this short time," the first trader said confidently, clapping his companion on the shoulder. In his eyes, Berries were already piling up.
"We injected him five times the normal dose. He can't even twitch. He's probably still asleep."
"Still, we got lucky. Just stopped at some uninhabited island to rest and ran into a monster of a Fish-Man."
"Fish-Men are rare these days. Prices have gone up. A top-quality one like this? Easily ten times a regular Fish-Man. If a Celestial Dragon takes a liking to him, the price could double or triple."
He practically trembled with excitement.
Ever since Fish-Man Island began flying the flag of the Whitebeard Pirates under Edward Newgate, many slave traders no longer dared to hunt there openly. The Whitebeard Pirates' deterrence was immense. Combined with the island's guards, it had become a far more dangerous hunting ground.
Of course, greed never disappeared completely. Some still sneaked in disguised as pirates, abducted targets, and fled. Others were pirates who dabbled in slave trading for the enormous profits.
Even so, Fish-Men had become rarer on the market. Scarcity pushed prices higher, though not drastically. Many humans harbored deep prejudice against Fish-Men. Demand remained limited.
Except in one place.
Mary Geoise.
The Celestial Dragons kept the largest collection of Fish-Man slaves in the world.
"I guarantee the Celestial Dragons will love this one," the trader grinned. "We're going to make a fortune."
Inside the largest cage, a massive figure knelt in silence.
He was fully conscious.
He heard every word.
Rage boiled within him.
A massive amount of anesthetic still coursed through his veins, leaving his limbs numb and heavy. He could barely move.
But his physique was extraordinary. Recovery had already begun.
In the darkness, scarlet eyes glowed. Around the blood-red pupils, veins bulged as fury intensified. Jagged teeth ground together with a faint, grating sound.
His blood flowed faster.
Hotter.
The accelerating heat weakened the anesthetic's grip.
He knelt motionless, waiting.
Waiting for strength to return.
Waiting for the moment.
Outside, several slave traders suddenly shivered without knowing why.
Not far away, inside a restaurant, Teach and his crew observed the procession.
The establishment had no other customers. They had all fled after seeing who occupied it.
"Interesting," Shiryu murmured, carefully wiping his beloved blade as he glanced toward the slave traders. A faint smile touched his lips.
Laffitte sat with legs crossed, lightly pinching the brim of his hat, cane resting in one hand.
They had sensed it already.
A familiar aura.
Bloodthirsty. Tyrannical. Subtle, suppressed, but gathering strength like a coiled beast.
"Gar, what do you feel?" Rego Yart asked with a grin.
"Anger," Gar replied quietly. "Extreme anger."
His fists clenched unconsciously. A trace of powerful aura leaked from him.
As the user of the Rage-Rage Fruit, Gar was highly sensitive to emotion, especially rage. He had noticed the disturbance first.
The others felt it soon after. Gar's aura was rarely unstable now. He had learned to control his fury. It only truly erupted in battle.
Teach understood the trigger.
Gar had once been a slave.
Captured. Shipped to Sabaody. Sold.
Though he did not pity slaves, he despised slave traders.
On the day he escaped, the slave house that had held him was left soaked in blood. Every trader and guard died. Only the slaves survived.
Teach's interest, however, lay elsewhere.
"Don't move yet," he said calmly. "Let's see what he does."
The aura coming from the cage was different from that of a seasoned killer. It felt innate. Primal.
It reminded Teach somewhat of Gar's Sulong transformation. Both originated from bloodline power.
But there was a difference.
Gar's was dormant, needing activation.
This Fish-Man's was dominant. It influenced his very temperament.
The procession advanced down the center of the road. Hundreds of traders surrounded the carts. Civilians flattened themselves along the sides.
No one wanted trouble with such an organization. Their backing was powerful.
Inside the cage, the Fish-Man felt it.
The anesthetic was nearly gone.
And his anger had reached its limit.
A violent aura burst outward.
Though invisible, it was palpable. Like killing intent made manifest.
The traders sensed it instantly.
Then—
Boom!
The massive cage bulged outward as if struck by a battering ram from within. Steel bars warped and bent under overwhelming force. These cages were forged from reinforced materials. Even giants struggled to damage them.
The black cloth was blown away.
The figure inside was revealed.
A towering Fish-Man with deep blue skin. Massive, jagged teeth. Blood-red eyes filled with savage brutality.
The aura he emitted felt like being locked onto by a Sea King.
A steel muzzle hung broken from his face, twisted and torn apart by sheer strength. Shackles bound his legs, each connected to a heavy iron ball meant to restrict his movement.
"You filthy bastards… I'll kill you!" he roared.
Thick arms gripped the bars and wrenched them apart with a screech of metal.
He stepped out.
The iron balls dragged behind him.
Standing fully upright, he was well over seven meters tall.
"All of you… die!"
Mog Ratoon swept his arm forward. Before the stunned traders could react, he seized two of them in one hand.
Crunch.
Bones shattered.
He tore a bar free from the cage and swung it like a club. Several traders were smashed into the air, crashing down and coughing blood.
Within moments, more than a dozen lay dead.
"Shoot him! Stop him! Don't kill him!" the leader barked.
Excitement flickered in his eyes.
He did not care about casualties. Men were cheap.
But this Fish-Man was priceless.
His size alone would make an excellent mount for a Celestial Dragon.
His ferocity would make him a star gladiator in their arenas.
In the leader's eyes, Mog Ratoon was not a being.
He was treasure.
"Get the tranquilizer guns!"
Ratoon heard. He did not lose himself completely. He remembered that cursed weapon.
He could not afford to fall unconscious again.
He surged forward in a frenzy, iron balls dragging behind him. Twin iron bars swung in wide arcs, each strike lethal.
He stepped deliberately on wounded traders, crushing them underfoot. Blood pooled beneath his feet, bodies collapsing into mangled ruin.
The brutality made some observers' eyes gleam.
Teach's crew included.
Ratoon's strength alone was not enough to threaten them. But his potential was obvious.
With proper training in Armament and Observation Haki, he could become formidable.
His combat instincts were sharp. Even burdened by iron balls, he dodged many incoming bullets. Others struck his body, but his dense musculature absorbed most of the impact.
"This is bad! Boss! The tranquilizer guns are gone!" someone shouted in panic.
On a nearby rooftop, Nelson smiled faintly.
Of course they were gone.
A good show should not end too quickly.
"What?" The leader's expression darkened. "Then fire freely! Just don't kill him!"
The traders no longer held back.
Gunfire intensified.
Ratoon's wounds multiplied. Blood ran down his body.
But pain only fueled him further.
Chains were thrown, wrapping around his limbs. Several traders coordinated, pulling hard to restrain him. They had experience hunting massive beasts.
Gradually, his movement was restricted.
The iron balls at his legs hindered him most.
Despite furious struggle, he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
Bound in chains, he was forced back into the cage.
Three more traders died in the process, torn apart by his teeth before the doors slammed shut.
The battle ended.
The giant Fish-Man knelt once more behind iron bars.
But the blood in his eyes had not dimmed in the slightest.