January 5, 1521, Sea Circle Calendar.
Country of Wild.
The waves, like enraged beasts, crashed repeatedly against the pitch-black reefs, and the splashing water instantly froze into tiny ice pellets in the cold wind, stinging the face like knife cuts.
Standing on the shore was a towering figure three meters tall; long silver hair was tousled by the sea breeze, clinging to his sweat-dampened forehead, and his azure eyes were like stars.
The youth named Lucas gripped the katana that had accompanied him for many years with both hands, slashing at the air in front of him.
“9997.”
“9998.”
“9999.”
The monotonous counting was swallowed by the waves, and sweat dripped down his jawline, leaving dark marks on the rocks beneath his feet.
“10000!”
As the final strike fell, the air emitted a dull boom.
Lucas slowly exhaled a cloud of white mist and sheathed his katana.
Following his usual routine, after sword practice came physical training.
He tossed the katana onto the ground, casually removed his shirt to reveal lean, powerful muscles with fluid lines, and dove into the icy seawater.
The bone-chilling cold instantly swept over his entire body, as if countless needles were piercing his marrow.
Accustomed to this, Lucas swam in a standard freestyle toward the distant, cloud-covered sea.
The island where the Country of Wild was located, this isolated island forgotten by the world, was shrouded in storms year-round.
The surrounding sea was filled with reefs and towering waves; for ordinary people, it was a hell from which there was no return, but for Lucas, it was the best natural training ground.
With a light touch of Moonwalk under his feet, he stepped out perfect concentric circles on the sea surface, his speed as fast as an arrow released from a bow.
The gale, carrying waves several meters high, slammed fiercely against him, but it couldn’t slow his speed by even a fraction.
Suddenly, a dazzling pink flying slash tore through the thick dark clouds, splitting the dim sky in two.
Lucas’s movements paused slightly, and a trace of imperceptible tenderness flashed in the depths of his eyes.
On the horizon, a white-painted Marine warship sailed slowly toward them, and the Marine flag on the side of the ship, symbolizing “Absolute Justice,” snapped loudly in the gale.
The warship stopped a few hundred meters from the coastline.
The next moment, a tall figure leaped from the deck using Moonwalk and darted toward the island.
The young girl wore a Justice cloak, her long black hair dancing in the wind, and the beauty mark at the corner of her mouth added a touch of allure to her cold features.
“You really do have perseverance…”
Lucas whispered to himself, then withdrew his gaze, as if he hadn’t seen anything, and continued swimming toward the deep sea.
The cold Moonlight pierced through the clouds, spilling onto the turbulent sea surface.
Having retrieved his katana, Lucas swam to the other side of the island and came ashore from the edge of a dense forest.
His dripping wet hair shed water, and within a few breaths, the soreness in his muscles and the redness and swelling on his skin disappeared.
Just as he stepped onto land, a deafening roar came from the depths of the forest.
A brown bear the size of a house lunged from the bushes, its scarlet eyes fixed on the uninvited guest before it, and its sharp claws carved deep furrows into the ground.
Lucas looked expressionlessly at the giant bear lunging toward him, lifted his right foot abruptly, and stirred up the surrounding air.
A condensed vacuum slash, like the sharpest blade, instantly sliced through the giant bear’s thick neck.
Blood gushed out, staining the ground beneath his feet red.
The massive bear head rolled a few times on the ground, with incredulous terror still remaining in its eyes.
The huge body collapsed with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Lucas bent down, hoisted the giant bear’s carcass onto his shoulder, and walked toward the slum district, stepping in the Moonlight.
On this great sea, there were over three hundred countries, and nine out of ten of these countries, regardless of size or wealth, had surprisingly consistent administrative divisions—the rich district, the slum district, and the royal palace.
The Country of Wild was one of them.
This was the birthplace of Golden Lion Shiki and Kuma.
Before setting sail, these two great pirates who shook the seas were nothing more than two inconspicuous gang leaders on this chaotic land, having respectively created gangs named the Flying Group and the Silver Axe Group.
The grudge between the two organizations had lasted for decades.
On the streets of the slum district.
Flying Group members holding katanas and Silver Axe Group members wielding giant axes were brawling, the sounds of shouting, screaming, and weapons clashing endless.
Blood stained the muddy streets red, and everywhere there were dismembered corpses and broken weapons.
When Lucas appeared at the end of the street, carrying the giant bear’s carcass, all fighting came to an abrupt halt.
The gang members who had just been killing with bloodshot eyes, like ducks whose necks had been pinched, stopped their movements simultaneously and silently made way for him on both sides.
No one dared to look him in the eye.
In the Country of Wild, Lucas was a living taboo.
He did not belong to any faction, yet he possessed absolute strength that crushed everyone.
Anyone who dared to provoke him would become food for the fish by the seaside the next day.
Lucas walked through the crowd expressionlessly, the bloody water beneath his feet making “squelching” sounds.
It took him less than ten minutes to arrive in front of his dilapidated wooden house.
Just as he was about to step over the threshold, his Observation Haki keenly captured a familiar aura inside the house.
The wooden door shattered in response.
A long sword, imbued with Armament Haki and stained pitch-black, broke through the flying wood splinters and slashed straight at his face.