The pinnacle of pirates! Beginning as a trainee in Roger's crew

"What… what's going on?!"

The clumsy Saint Grim let out a terrified gasp as he stared in disbelief at what he'd just done he had pulled the trigger and shot a fellow Celestial Dragon standing right beside him, completely off guard.

Thanks to the special astronaut suit, the shot wasn't fatal. And Celestial Dragons, born of a mutant fog-like physiology, were notoriously hard to kill.

But still, he collapsed.

"My body… it's out of control!!!"

Grim started firing wildly, turning his gun on nearby slaves and CP agents alike. The worst part was they didn't even dare to dodge. All they could do was take it head-on, either dying where they stood or gritting their teeth and tanking it with Tekkai.

By the end of it, the scene was pure chaos.

The most terrifying moment came when Grim realized that the arm holding the gun was bending twisting back until the muzzle was pointed directly at his own temple.

"No… no… nooooo!!!"

Inside the airtight suit, a sudden heat fogged up the helmet's glass. Steam rolled across the visor.

Ozz, watching it all unfold, wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Don't tell me… he pissed himself in there."

At that, Ozz completely lost interest in controlling him. He released the power.

Grim dropped like a sack of bricks, the fluid inside his suit backflowing, sloshing up into the helmet and nearly drowning him on the spot.

"Boring," Ozz muttered, shaking his head.

With a wave of his hand, the two pork-faced Celestial Dragons, the fallen CP agents, and all the slaves vanished from the hall, reappearing in a miserable heap outside the auction house's main doors.

Ozz picked up the glass of orange juice a maid had just handed him and downed it in one go.

He hadn't even gotten started, and the guy had already broken down. These brain-dead weaklings just weren't any fun.

"If we actually killed a Celestial Dragon, we'd be going to war with the World Government, wouldn't we?" Mihawk's icy voice cut through the air. His eagle eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

After all, Celestial Dragons weren't just political elites they were the very face of the World Government. Worshipped like gods.

Rumor had it that even hurting one of them would warrant an immediate response from a Navy Admiral.

Not that Mihawk was afraid. It was just… unnecessary.

"Is it really that serious?" Ozz asked, reclining with a lazy smile, mouth open as a maid popped grapes into it.

"Killing one is possible," Little Sha said coolly, taking a long drag from her cigar. Smoke curled from her lips.

"But if you do… the World Government still has another option."

"They could just say the Celestial Dragon… died of illness."

"All they'd need to do is kill everyone else who was present."

She glanced at the panicked crowd in the auction seating area everyone scattering like frightened rats after the Celestial Dragon had gone down. She was already weighing whether or not to clean the slate and eliminate them all.

"The Navy'll probably show up soon," she added flatly.

But before she could act, Ozz had already stood up. He shrugged on his black coat and strode for the exit.

"No need. He didn't die. The Gorosei will cover this up."

Outside the auction hall, the manager stood respectfully, awaiting him. Laid out before him were all the items Ozz had purchased.

Antiques. Treasures. Fine wines. Beautiful women.

Ozz glanced over the collection, stroked his chin, and finally picked out a few that caught his eye.

"Send these to Sami. Have her hold onto them for me. As for the rest…"

He turned to the others managers, guards, errand boys, and even the hostess.

"You lot can split them."

Everyone's face lit up with joy.

The guards. The auction staff. Even the cleaning crew.

They beamed at the tall, imposing man before them somehow, he looked even more handsome than before.

This was Lord Ozz, after all. Generous to a fault.

A fortune worth hundreds of millions of berries, and he'd just handed it out like candy. More than they'd earn in a year hell, more than they'd earn in five.

In the end, Ozz only took two things for himself: a bottle of not-awful wine he remembered sampling with Dick once…

…and the woman he'd bought for "five billion" berries Stella.

"You're not seriously bringing that woman aboard, are you?" Little Sha scoffed as she looked at the fragile beauty, then narrowed her gaze at Ozz.

"Of course not. She's got more important uses," he said, holding the chain in his hand.

The other end was fastened to Stella's neck.

When he tugged it, Stella let out a soft yelp.

Ozz paused.

That was… weirdly suggestive.

"Hey! Stella!!!"

Just then, a shout rang out.

A young man sprinted toward them from down the road, rage and desperation in his voice as he screamed her name.

Stella's eyes widened the moment she saw him. Her expression twisted into a sorrowful smile, and tears poured freely from her eyes.

If she had a choice… she would rather he hadn't come at all.

The young man wore a flashy suit, gold chains glittering on his neck. Ozz narrowed his eyes.

He looked… familiar.

There was something about him a mix between Ace and a younger Shanks. Just with different hair color.

The face of a future star.

"Stella! Let her go, ugh!"

Before Ozz or the others could move, the guards at the gate saw their moment to shine.

With a single punch, they floored the young man Gild Tesoro.

He collapsed in a heap, bile rising in his throat.

And yet, even pinned to the ground, he reached out toward her, crawling forward with every ounce of strength he had, desperate to take her hand.

Stella smiled through her tears, stretching out her arm.

It was like some cheap melodrama star-crossed lovers cruelly torn apart.

Ozz's forehead twitched. Several veins popped.

Why did it feel like he was the villain here?

With a flick of his hand, he froze Stella in place, then walked over to the fallen boy

Gild Tesoro, the man who would one day become the Golden Emperor and the richest man in the world.

In this world, just being born with a face like that meant your destiny was already half-written.

"Hey there, Tesoro."

Ozz crouched down in front of him, taking off his sunglasses with a smile.

Tesoro looked up through blood and tears. And froze.

That face.

He knew that face.

Even small fries like him had seen it on bounty posters across the sea.

Ozz. Dotor Ozz.

"You really love this woman, huh?" Ozz asked.

"…Give… Stella back to me!!!" Tesoro barked, the fire in his eyes unyielding.

He wasn't backing down.

Not even an inch.

So this… this was pure love.

Ozz didn't get angry. He actually admired the kid's spirit.

He gave a slow, cruel smile. One that could tear a man's heart in two.

"You know why you can't protect her?"

He conjured a single Beli coin and flicked it into Tesoro's face.

"It's because you're broke. You don't have the money to buy the woman you love."

Ozz had no intention of killing this genius-to-be.

In fact, he had plans for him.

What he needed now was someone with talent in entertainment and gambling and more than that, he was dying to see it for himself:

The dreamlike decadence of Gran Tesoro.

Ozz's eyes glowed crimson, his smile full of dangerous promise.

"Let's make a deal, Tesoro. A three-year promise, sealed by the name of Dotor Ozz."

"If you can earn ten billion berries within three years…"

"I'll give Stella back to you. And I'll throw in something else a chance no ordinary man could dream of having."

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The tides are shifting, and secrets linger in the dark... Step into the shadows early on P@treon, where the next chapter awaits before the world sees it.

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