The Treasure Ship slowly docked.
Sailors threw heavy mooring lines onto the pier, wrapping them around the bollards and pulling them taut.
The gangplank was set, and Saint Dio stepped off the ship, his boots striking the solid wooden planks.
As he set foot on the Sabaody Archipelago, he found the ground beneath him was neither soil nor stone.
Instead, it was a unique landscape formed by the interwoven aerial roots of massive mangroves, yielding slightly under his weight.
Stussy followed close behind.
The moment she stepped onto the pier, she shed all the coquettish charm she had displayed in the cabin, reverting to the capable and cold CP0 agent.
She bowed slightly and murmured, “Master, I will go attend to the matter you assigned.” Saint Dio gave a slight nod without speaking.
Stussy straightened up, her lake-blue eyes scanning the surroundings.
In a flash, she vanished, silently melting into the shadows of the alleyways.
Her mission was to scout the area in advance, ensuring the three sisters of the Kuja Pirates would fall into the hands of the designated human traffickers as planned.
Though she didn’t understand why Saint Dio was so certain those three would be targeted by a specific group of traffickers, years of serving him had taught her one thing.
His judgment was never wrong.
She didn’t need to understand; she only needed to execute.
Watching Stussy’s figure vanish around the street corner, Saint Dio withdrew his gaze and walked alone onto the streets of the Sabaody Archipelago.
This was Area 26.
Of the 79 total areas in the Sabaody Archipelago, Areas 1 through 29 were considered the lawless zone.
Human trafficking dens, slave auctions, underground casinos, black market exchanges…
all sorts of illicit businesses took root and flourished here.
Pirates also preferred to dock and resupply in these areas.
There was no law here, no order—only the naked law of the jungle.
Yet, for the World Nobles, this was actually a remarkably “safe” place.
Because even the most ferocious pirates would never dare to lay a hand on a World Noble.
Attacking a World Noble meant the personal deployment of a Marine Headquarters Admiral.
A Buster Call-level retaliation would descend like a dark cloud over the entire sea, and no pirate crew could withstand such consequences.
Unless they were greenhorns who had just started out and didn’t even recognize the symbol of a World Noble, any pirate with the slightest experience would keep their distance.
Saint Dio glanced at the group of guards following not far behind him.
These men wore heavy armor, with standard-issue longswords hanging from their waists.
Each of them looked around nervously, as if facing a formidable enemy.
Their strength was utterly insignificant in Saint Dio’s eyes, but duty bound, they had to follow behind the World Noble, playing the role of “guards” even if it was just for show.
Saint Dio ignored them, continuing his walk along the street.
As he strode forward, the once-boisterous and chaotic street seemed to have a pause button pressed.
“A…
A World Noble—!” Someone let out this trembling whisper first.
Then, like a row of falling dominoes, the pedestrians on both sides of the street—whether they were vendors hawking their wares, pirates with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, or travelers hurrying on their way—all knelt down in unison.
They bowed their heads, pressing their foreheads to the ground, not daring to look up, not daring to meet the gaze of that white figure.
The bustling street, just a moment ago teeming with the noise of people, instantly became dead silent, leaving only the rustle of the wind through the mangrove leaves.
Saint Dio paid no mind to the crowd kneeling on both sides of the road, not even deigning to lift his eyelids.
This scene of ten thousand people prostrating themselves had been his constant companion since he could remember, long since becoming a common sight.
He felt neither smug nor uncomfortable because of it.
Just as a human would feel no emotional fluctuation when ants on the roadside gave way.
He walked forward at his own pace, occasionally glancing up at the scenery overhead.
The most famous feature of the Sabaody Archipelago was the countless bubbles floating through the air.
They emerged continuously from the respiratory pores of the mangroves, refracting a rainbow of colors in the sunlight as they drifted toward the sky in swarms.
It was as if the entire island were shrouded in an endless, dreamlike foam.
In terms of scenery alone, it was truly magnificent and fantastical.
But Saint Dio’s visit was not for sightseeing.
A moment later, a white figure appeared silently by his side.
Stussy had returned.
She leaned in slightly, bringing her gloved lips close to Saint Dio’s ear, and whispered a brief report.
As he listened, the perpetually indifferent corner of Saint Dio’s mouth finally curved upward.
“So they’ve finally arrived,” he said softly.
“Go on, lead the way.” Stussy nodded slightly, turned, and walked ahead with swift, silent strides.
Saint Dio followed unhurriedly in her wake.
After turning down a few more streets, they finally came to a halt before a grand building.
Two burly guards stood flanking the great door.
At the sight of the World Noble’s crest on Saint Dio’s chest, they immediately threw themselves to the ground, not daring to breathe a word.
Stussy pushed open the heavy, carved wooden door.
The auction venue’s interior was far more spacious than its exterior had suggested.
Circular, tiered seating ascended around the central auction stage, filled with noblemen and women draped in opulent attire.
The men wore polished suits and leather shoes, while the women were adorned in shimmering pearls and precious gems.
They clutched champagne flutes, leaning in to whisper to one another about the day’s auction lots.
On stage, an auctioneer in a tailcoat was spattering saliva as he passionately described the next item.
When the heavy wooden door swung open, the chatter in the hall died down for a fleeting moment.
The nobles closest to the entrance instinctively turned, curious to see which guest had arrived so late.
As their gazes fell upon the figure in the doorway—the dazzlingly white long hair, the sheathed sword casually tucked into his waist, and that youthful face—the whispers immediately rippled outward.
“Another…
another World Noble?” “Hush!
Lower your voice!
Do you have a death wish?!” Saint Dio remained deaf to the buzzing of these flies.
He didn’t even spare a glance for the nobles.
In his eyes, these so-called “upper-class” figures in their fine clothes were nothing more than commoners who happened to be slightly wealthier.
The World Nobles were the Celestial Dragons, descendants of the gods themselves.
An insurmountable chasm separated them from these mere mortals.
Saint Dio strode forward, heading straight for the reserved seat in the front row—the best view in the house.
Along the way, the nobles bowed their heads one by one, even their breathing becoming shallow and careful, as if any slight disturbance might provoke the young predator.
Saint Dio approached the reserved seat in the front row.
A World Noble was already seated there.
A bloated, middle-aged man wearing a bubble helmet clutched two scantily clad slaves in his arms, his face alight with excitement as he awaited the next lot.
Sensing someone approach, he instinctively frowned, preparing to put on his World Noble airs and berate the blind fool.
But when he turned and saw the newcomer’s cold, stern face and that signature white hair, he froze like a duck being strangled.
The flab on his face quivered violently.
“S-Saint Dio…” He squeezed out a smile more hideous than a sob, his voice dry as he offered a greeting that carried a faint, unmistakable hint of flattery.
Saint Dio didn’t even spare him a glance.
He walked straight to the prime spot and stood there, waiting in silence.
The World Noble’s smile froze for a full three seconds.
Finally, under the furtive gazes of the surrounding nobles, he awkwardly rose and shuffled to the very edge of the front row, cowering there, too terrified to even tease the slaves in his arms.
The auctioneer on stage watched this unfold, a fine layer of cold sweat instantly breaking out on his forehead.
In his twenty years in the business, he had seen all kinds of powerful figures, but this was the first time he had ever witnessed a young man to whom even a World Noble would obediently yield his seat.
What on earth is that white-haired youth’s background?
the auctioneer wondered, not daring to dwell on the thought.
The white-haired figure seemed to radiate an invisible pressure, making the very air in the hall grow heavy.
Just then, Saint Dio’s gaze casually swept across the auction stage.
The auctioneer shuddered, nearly dropping the gavel in his hand.
He hurriedly cleared his throat, forcing himself to regain his composure, and continued the proceedings with his professionally enthusiastic tone: “Ahem!
Distinguished guests!
Next, we present one of the crown jewels of this auction!” With a wave of his hand, the auctioneer signaled to the side of the stage.
Several attendants rolled out a massive iron cage, draped in a heavy black velvet cloth.
The cage’s wheels groaned under its weight, the dull rumble hinting at the substantial burden it carried.
Every eye in the audience was drawn to the stage.
The auctioneer gripped the edge of the velvet cloth, pausing for two seconds to build suspense before whipping it away.
“Behold!” Inside the cage, three girls huddled together.
They wore wild, primitive garments of animal skins and cloth, revealing large areas of sun-kissed, wheat-toned skin.
All three were young—the oldest looking no more than a late teen.
Yet in this world, physical stature was a poor gauge of age.
The black-haired girl in front, though trembling herself, still spread her arms wide, shielding the two slightly older girls behind her.
In her dark eyes, fear mingled with an unyielding, defiant light.
“Behold, everyone!
These three lot items are newly captured crew members of the Kuja Pirates!” The auctioneer’s voice rose, his tone brimming with passionate salesmanship.
“The Kuja Pirates hail from Amazon Lily, a mysterious nation deep within the Calm Belt of the Grand Line!
The legendary Kingdom of Women!
Each of these female warriors is a fierce fighter with a powerful physique.
Whether you purchase them as bodyguards or as rare collectibles, they are truly exceptional choices!” A wave of hushed murmurs immediately swept through the audience.
The nobles’ gazes grew fervent, like a pack of hungry wolves staring down three lost lambs.
Some licked their lips.
Others were already calculating their bids.
A few even whispered among themselves, wondering if the women of the Kingdom of Women were truly as ‘distinctive’ as legend had it.
Inside the cage, the black-haired girl at the front—Boa Hancock—felt the rapacious, lecherous stares boring into her.
Her small body couldn’t stop trembling.
She clenched her teeth, desperately holding back the tears that threatened to spill, and pulled her two sisters behind her even closer.
The auctioneer took in the crowd’s reactions with satisfaction.
Overjoyed, he raised his gavel high: “So, for these three rare items from the Kuja…
the starting bid is—” Before he could finish, a clear and detached voice, not too loud yet filling the entire auction hall, rang out: “One hundred Berries.” The entire room fell silent.
Every movement froze.
The nobles looked at one another, wondering if their ears were playing tricks on them.
The auctioneer’s gavel remained suspended in mid-air, the smile on his face frozen into a comical mask.
One hundred Berries?
At that price, you couldn’t even buy a single newspaper from the street, let alone three living slaves.