One Piece: Lord of Calamity

The name of this country had long been forgotten. People now commonly referred to it as the Land of Ceaseless War.

Although nominally a single nation, it had fractured decades ago. Two factions, each occupying one side of the island, claimed to be the legitimate heirs to the kingdom, and they had been fighting tooth and nail for nearly a century.

Roa walked amidst the ruins. According to Dylan, this used to be the country's most prosperous port before the civil war, but now it was nothing more than a deserted wasteland.

Dylan, walking behind him, calmly stated, "Due to years of constant conflict, both sides of the civil war have imposed strict military control over their respective territories. All residents of this country have been forcibly gathered into concentrated settlements."

Roa inhaled deeply. The dark aura in this country was so dense that it lingered even in these uninhabited ruins. "Well, it seems they're doing a great job then," Roa said with a smile. "Let's find someone to ask for directions."

Passing through the ruins, Roa was greeted by an endless expanse of farmland. Green wheat seedlings swayed gently in the breeze, giving Roa the feeling of being in a grassland, which was quite refreshing.

Farmers were watering the fields. Roa noticed that these farmers were either frail old men, gaunt children, or even pregnant women. There wasn't a single able-bodied young man among them.

Oh, there were young people. Along the roads bordering the fields, armed soldiers patrolled constantly, and in the fields themselves, overseers with whips and long blades stared intently at the laborers.

Roa saw several elderly people or children, whose movements were slow, immediately attracting the whip of an overseer.

Roa took a deep breath. A rich wave of dark aura immediately surged towards him.

"Ohh!" Roa narrowed his eyes in ecstasy. So good.

But there was something even better. Roa looked up towards the distance beyond the farmland.

There was a massive, high-walled stronghold, which must have been the settlement Dylan mentioned. The dark aura floating above the stronghold was even denser. Roa unconsciously licked his lips.

"Who are you?!" An angry shout, mixed with alarm, grew closer. The patrolling soldiers had spotted Roa and his group and were quickly approaching, aiming their guns.

Roa raised an eyebrow. These soldiers were excessively young, only around fourteen or fifteen years old.

"Master Roa?" Dylan quietly asked, his right hand already forming a palm blade.

"No, no, no," Roa waved his hand repeatedly. "They're doing a fine job. We're just here to ask for directions." Saying that, he took a step forward.

Buzz! An invisible aura spread outwards, and the rushing soldiers immediately fell like cut wheat. Dylan felt the powerful aura washing over him.

Though his face remained calm, his fists were actually clenched in excitement. Conqueror's Haki! Indeed, Master Roa was also a conqueror, one in a million! It was only natural; in fact, it would be strange if Master Roa didn't have Conqueror's Haki!

"Excuse me," Roa said gently, looking at the soldiers who had collapsed, almost unconscious. "Could you take us to see the person in charge here?"

A little later, at the center of the stronghold was a lavish castle. Roa stood on the second-floor balcony of the castle, quietly observing the scene inside the stronghold.

There were no residential buildings to be seen; the stronghold was filled with factories: clothing processing plants, food processing plants, weapon factories, and pharmaceutical factories. Waves of dark aura ascended from each, a magnificent sight.

The only building not emitting dark aura was one near the main gate of the stronghold. The soldier who led them in had introduced it as the orphanage. Children born in the stronghold were all sent here for collective upbringing until they could be put to use.

"They've got a system," Roa said, surprised. Both factions in this country implemented the most thorough military control, with everything under their command serving the war effort.

To both sides, the citizens were merely bullets fired at the enemy. Those with combat ability became soldiers; those without, but with relative productivity (mostly adult women), went into factories; and those with relatively low productivity went into farming, providing logistical support.

"Master Roa, it's done," Dylan's calm voice came from behind. Roa turned to see Dylan, his hands stained crimson, dragging a bruised and battered man onto the balcony.

"Thank you for your hard work, Dylan." The polite Roa first genuinely thanked his follower. Then, with a look of regret, he turned to the bruised man. "Can you answer my questions now?"

The man who, just minutes ago, had gathered his troops and arrogantly declared he would kill Roa, was now as humble as a house dog, prostrating on the ground, his forehead touching the floor, his body trembling constantly. "You... please ask!"

"Excellent. Indeed, communication is the best way to reach a consensus, isn't it?" Roa nodded in satisfaction. "Do you know a man named Douglas? He should be the commander of a child soldier unit."

"Douglas—" The man paused, then immediately replied, "You... are you talking about Douglas Grey? I know him, I know him! The child soldiers he leads have always been active on the front lines; he has quite a reputation within our army!"

"Splendid!" Roa clapped his hands happily. "Then quickly take me to someone who can help me find him!" Douglas Grey wasn't important; the child soldier who inherited his surname was.

On the Battlefield

Cannons roared, flames billowed with thick smoke, and bullets whistled, dancing a metal storm. This was a battlefield where two armies clashed.

Amidst the chaotic battle, Douglas Bullet was charging. He carried a satchel of explosives, launching a direct assault on the enemy's fortress.

The seven-year-old boy skillfully moved in a zig-zag pattern, sometimes rolling, sometimes diving. Bullets whizzed past him, and shells exploded not far away, but they were always a step behind him.

Soldiers blocking his path couldn't even react to his speed; he'd approach them in a flash and casually snap their necks.

Bullet was a child soldier. He was an orphan abandoned by his mother, adopted by Commander Grey. Therefore, he was meant to serve the army as a soldier. Bullet had no objections.

He had never experienced life outside the military, so he had no desires for it either. Bullet's only desire was the "medal" awarded by Commander Grey.

Medals were only awarded to soldiers who performed great deeds, and all child soldiers yearned for it. Not only was it an honor, but it also allowed child soldiers to be promoted to officers.

For child soldiers, who were used as cannon fodder, primarily tasked with leading charges, stepping on landmines, or clearing paths with explosives, the allure of the medal was unparalleled.

Bullet wasn't obsessed with promotion; he simply craved the honor. For Bullet, who had only ever had weapons for company since childhood, he always envied those who received medals, surrounded and flattered by everyone.

He also wanted someone to be close to him. But only one medal was awarded each year. So Bullet worked harder than anyone.

Bullet, whose physique was far larger and stronger than his peers, suddenly leaped, tossing his satchel of explosives into a gap in the fortress.

Boom! With a thunderous roar, the fortress was directly blown sky-high. In the incoming blast wave, Bullet's medium-length hair flew high. The young child revealed a joyful smile.

He was very close, wasn't he? The medal!

After a battle concluded, the child soldiers left the battlefield early. They were responsible for leading the charge, but cleaning up the battlefield wasn't their concern, and spoils of war were out of the question.

The regrouped child soldiers were all dejected; after all, they had lost nearly a third of their numbers in this battle, and those who survived were all wounded.

Only Bullet was an exception; he had an expectant look on his face, anticipating the day he would receive his medal.

"Bullet!" It was Commander Grey's voice. Bullet suddenly looked up. What did the Commander want him for? Was he going to award him the medal? Bullet looked over expectantly.

He saw his most respected Commander Grey approaching with two strangers. An unknown man, and an unknown boy.

"Yo! You're Douglas Bullet, right?" The unknown boy, who seemed about the same age as Bullet, said with a smile, "Nice to meet you. From now on, you're with me."