In the uncharted waters of Hachinosu in the New World, a colossal ship drifted amid the tumultuous storms and waves of the vast sea.

"Captain, a pirate vessel spotted ahead!"

The cabin door flung open violently, inundating the room with stormy sea water as a towering 'little giant' approached the person seated in the chair.

Confronting the towering figure seated across from him, the man, bare-chested with fierce dragons tattooed from his arms to shoulders, lazily removed the newspaper covering his face. His youthful visage, with black hair and sleepy eyes, appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen years old. It was difficult to fathom how such a young lad could command a giant over six meters tall so effortlessly.

Scratching his head, the young man set down the newspaper and yawned, "Vista, how many times do I have to repeat myself? Whenever we enter the waters of Hachinosu, unless we encounter those fellows, if other pirate ships dare provoke us, we'll sink them outright. While we must stay vigilant both at sea and on land, there's no need to be overly tense. Come find me if you encounter formidable adversaries."

With that, he covered his face with the newspaper once more.

"Understood!"

Upon hearing this, Vista turned and rallied the crew to prepare for battle.

In this region, skirmishes were a daily occurrence, and even the denizens of the deep could taste the blood of pirates with bounties exceeding a hundred million.

As Vista, the 'little giant,' departed, a sigh of resignation emanated from beneath the newspaper.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Cannon fire resounded outside.

"Ah, I truly dread being marooned on an island with those monsters."

Contemplating the formidable adversaries akin to monsters, Nicholas felt a pang of anxiety. If he had a choice, he would certainly avoid setting foot on such perilous shores.

"Why, why did I find myself in the realm of pirates... and the most ludicrous part is that it's amidst this tumultuous era."

This was the era of the Pirate King, not the era following the Pirate King, Roger, but the era preceding him.

In this turbulent epoch, powerful individuals rose to prominence, and survival for the weak was a luxury. Indeed, it was an era where even the Celestial Dragons could meet their demise.

Albert Nicholas, at the age of sixteen, was a member of the Rocks pirates combat personnel and captain of the Seventh Division.

He harbored no desire to bear such a perilous title.

In the realm of the Pirate King, amid such perilous times, he knew that soon, Roger and his companions, Garp and the rest, would disband this group.

Fourteen years prior to his traversal into this world, he had grasped one fundamental truth: in this world, might was right. Initially, he aimed to bolster his strength and not emerge until he could fell a powerhouse equivalent to the Four Emperors with a single blow.

However, on his fourteenth birthday, intending to snare a nearby sea king to sate his hunger, he stumbled upon a certain infamous captain. Not only did that captain pilfer his meal, but he also dragged him from his tranquil life ashore into the merciless sea.

Subsequently, he bore witness to the bloodiest spectacle since becoming a pirate, with hundreds congregating to battle while a cadre of unruly individuals revelled and caroused.

Only the ten left standing possessed the merit to become apprentice crew members. Fortunately, Nicholas, endowed with the Thunder Fruit ability, survived the fray and was selected by Rocks to become an apprentice aboard the Sabre of Xebec.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The cannons continued their barrage, rousing Nicholas from his reverie. It appeared that the adversary this time was quite formidable, but Nicholas understood. In the New World, lacking strength meant one would likely be consigned to Impel Down or sunk by the Navy before even traversing its waters.

Nicholas retrieved a bottle of wine from the drawer and uncorked it with his thumb.

Glug, glug, glug, he imbibed deeply.

Though his physique could not rival those monsters, compared to ordinary individuals, he could be deemed monstrous. His vitality surged, and he had no qualms about succumbing to alcoholic liver problems.

Bang!

The cabin shuddered, and the candle on the captain's desk flickered.

"Attack!"

In the ensuing moment, a resounding battle cry erupted.

"So resilient over there?"

Nicholas's countenance shifted as he seized a two-meter-long katana adorned with blood-red patterns from the side, and in an instant, it vanished from the cabin.

Crash...

The storm unleashed its fury, causing the pirate vessel to sway beneath the deluge.

Amidst the churning waves, a ship bearing a skull flag clashed with another vessel.

On the deck, two factions of pirates clashed with weapons brandished.

"Captain!"

Vista, wielding a shield in his left hand and an axe in his right, cleaved through a pirate obstructing his path before calling out to Nicholas, "Captain, the opposing faction is the Blood Funeral Pirate Group, led by the renowned Gorbachev."

Nicholas discerned it clearly.

Among the adversaries stood a colossal figure, at least four meters tall, sporting a waist drum and wielding a double-sided axe as towering as himself. With each rhythmic beat of the drum, the opposing pirates seemed to be infused with a bloodthirsty fervor. Though their might paled in comparison to Nicholas's faction, they relied on their audacious combat style to momentarily subdue Vista and his comrades.

Vista dispatched several adversaries with a single swing, yet the opposing faction seemed to cast aside fear, continuing their reckless assault.

"Annihilate them all and claim the ship! Whoever seizes the spoils aboard shall possess them!"

Gorbachev slammed the ground with his axe's handle, bellowing.

Observing the morale rekindling on the opposing side, Nicholas gazed skyward and remarked, "If not for the drenching rain, storms would truly be delightful weather. But..."

"Listen to the thunder's roar, Thunderfall!"

Nicholas's command reverberated, as azure lightning crackled around him, emitting a crackling resonance.

An imperceptible aura enveloped all present; even those embroiled in battle felt a prickling sensation on their skin. Gorbachev, amidst his buffing ritual, detected the atmospheric shift keenly.

Almost instinctively evading, hundreds of colossal lightning bolts descended from the heavens, transforming the deck into a thunderous inferno.

The air seemed to stagnate for a heartbeat, before the lightning dissipated, as if the preceding spectacle were a mirage.

Hiss... Hiss...

With the lightning's retreat, sporadic electrical currents danced over the bodies of charred corpses strewn across the deck, serving as a stark reminder that the preceding events were no illusion.

A faint tang of ozone permeated the air.

It was the scent of oxygen decomposing under the influence of electric currents, emitting an ozone aroma.

Bang!!

"Lord Vista, behold!"

A pirate's cry ensued as Gorbachev, captain of the Blood Funeral Pirate Group with a bounty of 130 million, crashed heavily onto the deck.

"Fear not. The captain's might is unparalleled. Swiftly clear the deck of corpses, lest LinLin witness the aftermath. Also, gather the spoils from the rival ship."

With those words, Vista proceeded towards the cabin.

At the mention of LinLin, the pirates on deck recalled something unpleasant, their countenances shifting as they hastened to tidy the battleground.