At the edge of town, a red-haired woman stood before a wooden house.
When she saw the familiar figure approaching from the forest path, her face lit up with a joyful smile.
"Saint Garling!"
She ran toward him, tears glistening in her eyes:
"I'm so happy. I always believed you would return."
Saint Garling—the leader of the God's Knights—remained expressionless, his demeanor almost cold.
"Hmm." He responded indifferently, his gaze shifting to the stroller behind the woman.
Inside lay two red-haired infants, only a few months old.
Their round eyes stared curiously at the unfamiliar man before they broke into happy, toothless grins.
"This is your father," the woman crouched down and spoke gently to the babies:
"Shamrock, Shanks, say 'Daddy.'"
The babies babbled incoherently.
Saint Garling looked at the two infants, slightly surprised:
"Twins? How adorable."
"Yes, they are your sons." The woman looked up, her eyes pleading:
"Please, can we live together on this island?
Just our family, living a peaceful life…"
Saint Garling shook his head calmly:
"No. Even if we were to live together, it wouldn't be here. This island will soon disappear."
"What?" The woman froze, not understanding his meaning.
Saint Garling offered no explanation, instead continuing to gaze at the red-haired infants:
"I have already chosen and reserved a suitable wife for myself. If I win this tournament, I will marry her."
"Tournament?" The woman grew even more confused.
But Saint Garling gave her no chance to ask further.
Swoosh—
A flash of sword light.
The woman's expression froze. She looked down at the slender wound on her chest, blood slowly seeping out.
"Why…"
She managed to utter the word before collapsing limply to the ground.
The two red-haired infants began to cry at their mother's fall.
Saint Garling watched the fallen woman expressionlessly, then pulled out a Den Den Mushi from his coat and pressed the call button:
"Preparation complete."
A Marine officer's voice came through the Den Den Mushi:
"Understood. Commencing landing."
Simultaneously, in the waters around God Valley, a massive Marine fleet was closing in.
Warships approached from all directions, surrounding the island completely.
On the warships, cannons were deployed, and Marine soldiers stood fully armed with cold determination in their eyes.
In the town.
When the first warship appeared outside the harbor, someone exclaimed:
"World Government Navy warships?"
"They've surrounded the entire island!"
"Could there be criminals hiding here?"
"Get the children inside!"
Panic began to spread.
But it was already too late.
Large numbers of Marines had stormed into the town.
They weren't there to maintain order—they were there to "clear the area."
"Use only anesthetics! Capture those who don't resist first!"
A Marine major barked an order.
Marine soldiers stormed into civilian homes, dragging out panicked residents and firing tranquilizer guns at them.
A young Marine, unable to suppress his doubts, rushed up to the major:
"Major, what is the purpose of this operation? These are all ordinary civilians!"
This young Marine was Garp's son, Monkey D. Dragon.
Later, he would become the leader of the Revolutionary Army, changing his name to Monkey D. Dragon!
The major replied impatiently:
"This is a military exercise. You're still ten years too early to question me, rookie."
With that, the major called over the nearby squad leader:
"Hey! Squad leader, who is this arrogant new recruit?"
The squad leader immediately saluted, his face apologetic:
"My apologies, Major! He's a new recruit. I'll discipline him!"
On the street, a civilian tried to step forward to ask questions but was immediately shot down by a Marine without hesitation.
Marines aimed their guns at unarmed people, threatening them not to resist.
Panic within the town was rapidly spreading.
"Run! The Marines are trying to capture everyone!"
Dragon rushed up to the Marine squad leader again, his voice trembling with anger:
"Squad leader! Why? They're just ordinary people!"
The squad leader looked at him coldly:
"Dragon, don't overthink it. Personal thoughts only hinder the will of the military. Focus on completing the mission."
"But—"
"No buts!" the squad leader cut him off sharply. "Either follow orders or face a court-martial. Your choice."
Dragon clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.
His resistance was feeble and powerless, utterly incapable of stopping this war machine. He could only be swept along.
He raised his gun and aimed at several civilians trying to flee ahead.
Their faces were filled with fear and confusion.
"I'm sorry..." Dragon's voice trembled. "If you surrender peacefully, I won't shoot."
The civilians roared and charged forward to resist:
"We don't know what's happening, but we need to leave this island. Get out of the way!"
Dragon closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
Tranquilizer darts hit several people, and they collapsed limply.
But more rushed forward.
Dragon could only keep shooting.
One, two, three...
He comforted himself inwardly: It's fine, these are tranquilizers, they won't kill anyone...
But at this moment, the "Marine justice" he had always believed in was violently shaken by this operation.
Was this truly justice? Using force against unarmed civilians, capturing them, even shooting those who resisted...
Suddenly, a massive explosion erupted not far away.
A command came over the broadcast: "All personnel, put on your gas masks! Repeat, all personnel, put on your gas masks!"
The Marines had deployed Hypnotic Gas Bombs.
Purple gas spewed from street entrances, rapidly spreading.
Residents who couldn't evade in time inhaled the gas and fell unconscious to the ground.
Dragon put on his gas mask, watching as the town before him was gradually shrouded in purple mist, watching the civilians lying scattered and fallen. His heart turned cold.
His naivety was drowned in this gradually spiraling force.
Everything fell into dead silence.
...
Meanwhile, a massive Marine prison ship was sailing toward God Valley.
The ship was over three hundred meters long.
On the deck, uniformed Marine soldiers patrolled vigilantly.
This was a ship specifically used for transporting "special cargo."
Inside the hold were hundreds of iron cages, each holding several slaves.
Deep within the hold, in a relatively concealed corner, several cages held a group of children.
The oldest appeared to be no more than twelve or thirteen, while the youngest was only five or six.
In one of the cages, a boy with a large head and purple hair was nervously observing the outside through the gaps in the bars.
He was Little Ivankov, passionate and unrestrained by nature, never giving up hope even after being enslaved.
In the cage next to his, a little girl with short golden hair was silently slipping out.
The lock on the cage door had been picked open by her at some point.
She was Little Ginny, young but agile and bold.
Using damaged pipes, Little Ginny hugged the walls, avoiding the patrolling Marines, and slipped into the communication room deep in the hold.
Inside the communication room, a Marine communications officer was dozing off.
After completing her mission of transmitting the intelligence, Little Ginny slipped out just as quietly.
Just as she was about to return to the cage area, a Marine soldier seemed to notice something and turned to look in her direction.
"Hmm, feels like someone's there."
The Marine soldier muttered as he walked over.
Little Ginny immediately ducked behind a pipe, holding her breath.
A few seconds later, the Marine soldier shook his head and turned away:
"Just my imagination..."
Little Ginny sighed in relief, quickly slipped back to the cage area, re-entered her cage, and loosely closed the door.
"Ginny, I'm so glad you're okay."
Little Ivankov whispered, his eyes full of concern.
"Big Bro!" Little Ginny replied cheerfully:
"Everything went smoothly. Now it's up to whether the intelligence broker receives it."
Nearby slaves overheard their conversation and grew tense immediately.
One slave whispered urgently:
"Shut up, don't do anything foolish. If we're discovered, we'll all die."
Another chimed in:
"Don't drag us down with you. Stay quiet and maybe we'll live a few more days."
"Drag you down?" Little Ivankov exploded, glaring at the slaves who had given up hope and were cowardly waiting for death, he cursed:
"You big idiots! We're all doomed, and we don't even know where this ship is headed!
Don't cling to the stupid idea that 'I'm lucky, I'll be saved without any effort.'
That won't happen! Don't underestimate the power of miracles!"
His voice grew louder, finally alerting the Marines outside.
"What's that noise?!"
"There's movement in the slave area!"
An alarm sounded, and a warning came over the broadcast:
"All slaves remain in place! No noise! Violators will be executed on sight!"
In another, sturdier iron cage, a burly, furry "little bear" watched the scene with interest.
"Sounds like a lively slave."
The crucial message Little Ginny risked sending to the outside world had indeed been received.