OPTT: Chapter 81/85

Chapter 81: Influence

Across the Grand Line, long lines had formed in front of Neo Marine recruitment centers.

Even before the morning mist had fully lifted, crowds from all Four Seas could be seen gathering at the ports through the hazy fog.

Among them were retired veterans, their eyes gleaming with determination.

There were also hot-blooded young men and women, their faces full of youthful passion.

Even parents came with their children, their eyes filled with anticipation for the future.

Everyone clutched their smartphones, screens lit up with the image of Zephyr standing side-by-side with the Neo Marines. That photo, overflowing with a sense of justice, seemed to be calling out to everyone.

"I want to sign up!" a blond-haired youth shouted as he pushed his way to the front. His arm was still wrapped in a bandage—clearly injured during his travels.

His voice trembled with excitement, his eyes full of burning resolve. "After I saw that video, I rushed here overnight from the West Blue!"

His fingers left sweat marks on the application form, as if this was his way of showing his unwavering resolve.

At the recruitment desk,

The Marine clerk in charge of registration stood frozen, staring at the endless stream of applicants. His fingers fumbled as he recorded each name, his expression blank with shock.

He never imagined so many people would respond to the Neo Marines' call.

"I watched that video twenty times!" A boy in a baseball cap was excitedly gesturing, eyes shining with admiration for the Neo Marines. "What Mr. Zephyr said about 'true justice' was so cool!"

Behind him, an old man with a fishing rod slung over his back nodded. The deep wrinkles on his face now seemed to carry a renewed light.

"Yeah, justice... that's what we've been chasing all along," he said, his voice tinged with age and nostalgia.

Not far away, a young mother stood in line holding her child. Her eyes were gentle yet firm.

"I want my child to know there are still people in this world who fight for justice."

Though the child was still small, a glimmer of curiosity and longing had already appeared in their eyes.

In line, a retired veteran patted the shoulder of the young man beside him, his voice filled with relief.

"When I was your age, I was just as passionate. Now, seeing all of you here, I know justice will never be too late."

As time passed, the line kept growing, and the flames in their hearts to join the Neo Marines burned hotter and brighter!

...

Marineford Reserve Training Camp

A heavy silence hung over the early morning training grounds.

The field, usually filled with the shouts of morning drills, was now deserted. A cool breeze swept through, bringing with it a strange chill.

Instructor Blank stepped onto the dew-covered grass. His boots creaked with every step, each sound oddly unsettling.

Suddenly, he threw open the wooden door of the third barracks. What he saw made his pupils shrink in shock.

Twenty beds, perfectly aligned. On each, Marine uniforms were neatly folded.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting sharp lines of light and shadow across the dark blue fabric. It was piercing.

By the bed closest to the door, the blond youth Wattas was carefully folding the last shirt.

His movements were precise, as if performing some sacred ritual.

Blank's voice exploded through the empty barracks. "Wattas! Do you even know what you're doing?!"

There was both anger and confusion in his voice as his fist slammed against the doorframe. The impact made the training schedule on the wall tremble.

Wattas's fingers paused on the collar. The seagull-feather collar pin gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

He looked up, emerald green eyes filled with unwavering determination. "Instructor, I watched that video twenty-seven times."

His voice was calm, but his eyes were resolute.

Blank suddenly noticed the phone on Wattas's bedside table. The screen was still on, frozen on the Neo Marines' founding ceremony.

The comment section on the video was filled to the brim, the texts crawling across the screen like ants. Every comment pulsed with support and anticipation.

"You're deserting! Leaving before finishing your service is desertion!" Blank grabbed Wattas by the shoulder.

But Wattas's muscles didn't move an inch. They were tense, unmoving.

There was a salty scent coming from him, like the breeze in that video. Wattas already smelled like the Neo Marines.

Wattas gently broke free from the instructor's grip and sat down on the bed. The springs creaked under his weight.

He stroked the Marine emblem on the uniform and suddenly gave a relaxed smile. "Then I'll leave after I finish my service in the Marines."

The sunlight danced on his golden lashes. His voice was steady. "But my justice… will eventually go where it belongs."

Blank's lips trembled. He looked around at the empty beds, like silent protests.

At last, he took off his glasses and wiped them. His coat flared slightly as he turned away. "…Suit yourself."

His voice was weary, but his eyes carried a trace of understanding.

Wattas watched his instructor's retreating back, a surge of emotion rising in his chest.

He knew this decision wouldn't just change his own life, it would also make things harder for those around him.

But the flame of justice had already been lit in his heart. And it would never go out.

...

South Blue

In the bedroom of the brown-haired youth Laien, scraps of a Marine application form lay scattered like snowflakes across the floor.

Sunlight streamed through the window, harshly illuminating the mess.

On Laien's phone, the Neo Marines' video had just finished playing for the ninth time.

His eyes were filled with confusion and frustration, as though locked in a struggle with himself.

When the old one-armed veteran smiled while holding the rescued little girl in the video, Laien suddenly slapped himself across the face.

"I'm such an idiot!" he shouted at the mirror, his voice full of anger and self-loathing.

The noise startled his mother, who was cooking downstairs. Her footsteps gradually approached.

In a sudden motion, Laien ripped down the Marine propaganda poster from the wall. The plaster underneath was old and peeling.

As the poster came off, it seemed to take with it the last of his hesitation.

He turned and quickly began packing. He shoved the final shirt into his suitcase.

"Laien?" His mother opened the door and saw her son zipping up the suitcase.

Her hands, still dusted with flour, froze when she saw the shredded Marine application on the floor. She instantly understood.

Her expression shifted, worry overtaking her face.

"I'm going to join the army that can actually protect people!" Laien declared.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 82: Smile Please?

As Laien turned, his mother saw the same light in his eyes that she had seen when he was ten years old and said he would protect the village.

It was a pure and determined light, silently telling her that he had made up his mind and wouldn't waver again.

She suddenly remembered the video that the fishmongers in the market had been talking about that morning.

The establishment of the Neo Marines had become the hottest topic across the South Blue.

She understood. That video had ignited something in Laien's heart, and nothing she said now could stop him from chasing his dream.

"Mama…" Laien's voice carried both hope and a hint of unease.

He looked at her, silently begging for her understanding.

She was silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. Her eyes revealed a trace of helplessness. "Go, child. Just remember, no matter where you go, home will always be your harbor."

Her voice was tender, but her eyes held a quiet firmness.

Laien nodded, gratitude flashing in his eyes.

He knew that although she was reluctant, she still supported his decision.

He took a deep breath, slung his luggage over his shoulder, and walked toward the door.

The sunlight spilled across his back, as if illuminating the path ahead.

"Laien, wait." His mother called out to him. She pulled a bracelet from her pocket and gently fastened it around his wrist. "This is Mama's amulet. I hope it keeps you safe."

Laien held her hand tightly, eyes welling with emotion. "Thank you, Mama. I'll come back."

His mother nodded silently, watching him walk out the door, praying in her heart. She knew his journey had just begun—and all she could do now was support him from behind.

…

Somewhere on the Sea

Aboard the Red Crab Pirates' ship, the sea wind howled and the waves surged.

Pirate Blue Crab nervously swallowed, his fingers trembling slightly. On his phone screen was a video of the Neo Marines taking down a group of slave traders.

When Zephyr's punch shattered the auction house in the video, the surrounding pirates collectively let out restrained gasps.

That powerful strike had shattered something inside them too.

"Red Crab Boss…" Blue Crab's voice was barely louder than the wind. His eyes carried both anticipation and anxiety. "My sister... was sold by traffickers like them…"

His voice caught in his throat, a painful memory flashing behind his eyes.

Captain Red Crab Hammer's metal prosthetic leg scraped against the ship's railing, making a shrill sound.

The light from the video reflected off his scarred face. Those old wounds seemed to sting again.

A complex emotion flickered in his gaze, as though the scene had touched something buried deep inside.

He remembered—twenty years ago, his hometown had also been wiped out in one of the Celestial Dragons' "games."

That disaster had cost him his family—and turned him into a pirate.

Now, as he watched the Neo Marines in action, he felt something flicker again. A glimmer of hope.

"Take down my pirate flag…" Red Crab suddenly turned, his shark-like teeth grinding together. "Replace it with the Neo Marines' white flag!"

Under the shocked gazes of his crew, he snatched Blue Crab's phone. The video continued to play.

He looked at the freed slaves onscreen, that flicker in his eyes intensifying.

"Damn it. I've been a pirate all my life…" Red Crab's hand crushed the railing, the screech of metal against wood echoing in the wind. "Maybe it's time to see what being a hero feels like."

The crew exchanged looks. None of them had expected this.

But as they saw the determination in Red Crab's eyes, they knew—this ship, this crew, was about to sail a completely different course.

"Boss… you're really serious?" Blue Crab's voice trembled, eyes full of emotion.

Red Crab nodded, resolute. "Yeah. From now on, we're with the Neo Marines."

"We're heading out to find Admiral Zephyr—and enlist!"

"AYE!"

The sea wind howled, the waves surged, and the Red Crab pushed forward through the surf.

…

Marineford – Marshal's Office

SLAM!

Sengoku's fist crashed onto the desk, sending the teacup rattling.

His face was tense, jaw clenched with barely contained frustration.

Outside the window, the faint sound of a new batch of recruits taking their oath drifted through the air, only making his headache worse.

At the top of the towering pile of reports on his desk sat an urgent one:

"South Blue Branch Recruitment Numbers Hit Historic Low"

Sengoku yanked the newly arrived telegram from the stack. His fingers squeezed it tightly, leaving deep creases in the paper.

It was a joint report from sixteen branches in the North Blue.

The total number of applicants this week… less than a third of normal.

This was a heavy blow.

The Marines' recruitment was being completely crushed by the Neo Marines.

Across from him, Tsuru silently slid her phone across the desk. It was playing the latest training video from the Neo Marines.

In the video, Zephyr led thousands of recruits under the rising sun. Stirring background music swelled behind them. The energy was contagious.

The fresh faces of the recruits beamed with resolve and hope, as if declaring that a new era had arrived.

SNAP!

Sengoku's steel pen broke in half, black ink splattering across the pristine white of his Marshal's cloak.

He abruptly stood up. The sudden movement sent documents flying, his cloak billowing like a stormfront.

His eyes narrowed with a flash of clarity. A decision had been made.

"If they want to play this game…" Sengoku removed his glasses. The Den Den Mushi's screen reflected rising view counts and swarms of likes.

His voice was low and cold. "Issue the order. Gather all officers and enlisted personnel with good public image at Headquarters!"

Tsuru nodded and quickly moved to carry out the order.

Sengoku stood at the window, staring out over the sea, deep in thought.

The Neo Marines' rise had shaken the very foundations of the Marines. If he didn't act, the whole institution could collapse.

"The Marines will not be shaken so easily."

…

Three Days Later

Marineford. Marine Headquarters. Central Plaza.

The entire plaza was filled with a chaotic yet festive energy.

The normally solemn square had been transformed into a massive outdoor photo shoot. Giant ring lights over ten meters tall had been erected around the Statue of Justice, lighting up the plaza as if it were midday.

Technicians scurried about, adjusting angles. Dozens of phones disguised as cameras were rigged around the square, their lenses gleaming ominously in the sunlight.

"Admiral Akainu… please, uh… could you maybe… smile a little?" a young makeup artist asked, voice barely louder than a mosquito.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 83: Marine Image

The makeup artist's eyes were filled with nervous tension, like they were facing a volcano ready to erupt.

Akainu sat in a specially made metal chair, anything else would've been instantly reduced to ash by his Mag-Mag Fruit powers.

A vein throbbed on his forehead as he squeezed the words through gritted teeth, "What a joke…"

Before he even finished speaking, the face powder on his skin evaporated into a puff of white smoke.

This whole thing was utterly absurd!

Even more absurd was the fact that he'd actually been persuaded by Sengoku to go along with filming a promotional video.

He had considered quitting the Marines altogether over this.

"Sakazuki, stop fussing already." Kizaru's voice drifted over lazily. He was leaning against a railing, casually scrolling through his phone. His brown-tinted sunglasses reflected the sunlight.

He glanced at Akainu's deadpan expression, a teasing smile forming at the corner of his lips. "If Teacher Zephyr can shoot one, what are you afraid of?"

Akainu shot him a glare, his expression mixed with irritation and helplessness. "You're always just watching from the sidelines, huh."

"Alright, alright, calm down, everyone," Sengoku's voice cut through the commotion. He stood at the center of the plaza, a rare look of seriousness on his face. "This is about the Marine's public image and influence. The rise of the Neo Marines has already caused serious damage to our reputation. We need to counter it."

Hearing that, the tech crew all nodded in agreement and returned to their busywork.

They understood the significance of this video. The Marines had to go all out to make a promotional piece that could rival the Neo Marines' recruitment clip.

"Admiral Akainu, does this expression work for you?" the makeup artist asked carefully as they adjusted Akainu's face, trying to make him look more "natural."

Akainu frowned but eventually gave a reluctant nod. Damn pirates. I'm going to wipe every last one of you out someday...

Not far off—

Aokiji was sprawled on an ice lounge chair, eyelids drooping as he lazily went over his lines. "Join the Marines… protect justice… Haaaah—" A long yawn derailed his rehearsal midway.

His adjutant frantically shook the cue card. "Admiral! The important part is right after that, where you explain the Navy Six Styles!"

Aokiji clutched his forehead like it was splitting. These lines were brutal. Since when did being an Admiral mean you had to memorize scripts? What a nightmare.

Meanwhile, Kizaru removed his signature brown sunglasses—a rare sight—and peered into a tall gold-framed mirror.

"So scary~" he muttered at his own wrinkled reflection, trying to force a "friendly" smile.

The smile was so unsettling it made a passing recruit trip over a water hose and almost fall into the fountain.

"Eighteen hundred a month and now I gotta shoot promotional videos too. No raise, no bonus, what am I even doing..." Kizaru grumbled just loud enough for Sengoku to hear.

Sengoku's temple twitched. This is what I get for trying to film something serious?

And then he saw Garp—and his temper exploded.

"Garp! Take off that dog-head hat!!"

Sengoku's shout echoed through the entire square.

He stomped over, a team of civilian staff trailing behind him with costume boxes in hand.

Garp had just shoved a senbei in his mouth and was startled so badly he sprayed crumbs everywhere.

"I've worn it for thirty years…" Garp mumbled defensively, holding onto his beloved hat.

But Sengoku had already snatched the iconic dog-head cap and replaced it with a crisp, official Marine military hat.

"Image! You need to care about image!" Sengoku growled as he angrily straightened Garp's crooked tie. "Do you even know how many more views the Neo Marines' video has than ours?!"

Garp stared at the hat in Sengoku's hand, reluctant, but in the end, he sighed and accepted the new look.

"Alright, alright, for the Marine's honor, I'll do it this once," he muttered with a long-suffering look.

Sengoku finally relaxed a bit and nodded. "This is how the Marines should be. We can't lose to the Neo Marines. We have to make our justice shine again."

Garp nodded… kind of.

At the center of the square.

The temporary special effects zone was undergoing its final adjustments.

Sunlight glinted off the gear, casting a chaotic, busy glow over the set.

The demolition team had flamethrowers set up fifty meters out. The props team had lined up dozens of miniature pirate ship models, each one painstakingly detailed.

The lead technician wiped sweat from his brow and nervously reported, "Fleet Admiral, according to the script, once Admiral Akainu activates 'Meteor Volcano,' these models will all detonate simultaneously..."

Sengoku looked over the messy setup, temples throbbing harder.

He sighed internally. The budget for these effects wasn't cheap—every single explosion meant more money down the drain.

Expenses, expenses everywhere...

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Garp had quietly snuck his dog-head hat back on.

He nearly fainted from rage but, in the end, just sighed and let it slide.

Forget it. He's hopeless. I don't have the energy to argue over this right now.

Finally, everything was in place.

"Action!" the director shouted, and red lights lit up across every camera around the square.

Akainu emerged from the smoke, face gloomy, his fists radiating bubbling magma from the Mag-Mag Fruit.

He awkwardly pulled at the corners of his mouth in a failed attempt at a "friendly" smile, scaring the nearest cameraman so badly he nearly fell into the sea.

"Ahem…" Akainu cleared his throat and casually snapped his fingers.

A few drops of magma flared out, and the special effects team quickly triggered the hidden charges.

BOOM!

In a massive fireball, twenty pirate ship models were vaporized. Unfortunately, the explosion also blew a hole clean through the outer wall of Marineford.

The camera quickly cut to Aokiji's scene.

He shuffled sleepily toward the ice sea model, muttering, "ICE…"

The breath he exhaled instantly frosted over the eyebrows of the cameraman nearby.

The special effects team scrambled to activate the cooling system—but they overdid it, and half the studio froze over into a glittering glacier.

Aokiji stared at the cue card now frozen inside a solid block of ice and scratched his head. "Arara… forgot my lines…"

"Cut! Cut!!" the director shouted, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. But he didn't dare scold anyone. The man just froze half the set—what was he supposed to say?

He turned desperately to the next scene. "Admiral Kizaru, you're up! Prepare!"

Kizaru entered with exaggerated swagger, striking an awkward "cool pose."

"Have you ever been kicked at the speed of light?" he drawled in his usual lazy tone, then instantly transformed into golden light.

The light bounced around the studio wildly.

The trajectory hadn't been properly calculated, and the refraction ended up smashing the chandelier off the ceiling.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 84: Justice Doesn’t Need Performance

Under a rain of shattered glass, Kizaru reappeared, his brown sunglasses askew. "How scary, I almost hit the wall~~"

The scene was a disaster. The tech crew scrambled to clean up the mess, sweat dripping from the director's forehead.

He watched the Admirals' chaotic "performances," silently praying that this would finally wrap up and help salvage the Marines' image.

It took more than a dozen takes before the filming finally concluded.

The last one up was Garp.

He strode over with his usual grin, casually munching on senbei. His eyes lit up the moment he saw the ten-layer stack of reinforced steel plates.

"Now this is what I'm talking about!" Garp laughed heartily as he swung his fist. Armament Haki instantly coated his arm.

BOOM—!!!

The steel plates were shredded like wet paper, and the shockwave didn't stop there. It blasted a five-meter-wide hole straight through the Marineford outer wall thirty meters away.

Chunks of stone rained down, but Garp only laughed louder. "Hahaha! Way more satisfying than punching sandbags!"

The director shakily raised his megaphone. "Next... up is the Navy Six Styles demonstration..."

His voice carried a heavy note of defeat. His eyes were filled with dread.

He already knew. The destructive power of these top brass was off the charts. A single slip-up could turn into a full-blown catastrophe.

That day's shoot was anything but smooth. It was everyone's first time filming, after all, and memorizing lines while doing pro-level combat poses wasn't exactly easy. Honestly, the fact they managed to get anything at all was a miracle.

Back in the editing room, the post-production team watched the shaky footage in dead silence, their expressions twitching uncontrollably.

Someone quietly added a disclaimer at the end of the final cut:

"Professional training. Do not imitate."

"Let's just hope this wins back some hearts," one of them muttered.

…

That night.

The Marines' high-budget promo video, This is the Marine!, was officially released!

The video opened with an eye-popping sequence showing off the three Admirals' Devil Fruit powers, followed by jaw-dropping footage of Garp demonstrating the Navy Six Styles, with registration hotlines and training base addresses tagged at the end.

The production quality was top-tier, filled with bombastic effects and soaring background music. It proudly declared Marine justice and strength to the world.

Sengoku was very pleased. He immediately pinned the video and ordered every Marine officer to repost it on their feeds.

This promo wasn't just for saving face—it was also key to attracting fresh blood to maintain peace across the seas.

The moment the video went live, with full-force Marine promotion, it unsurprisingly surged onto the trending charts!

Within minutes, it went viral. Likes skyrocketed. Comments exploded.

> "What the hell, Akainu's smile gave me nightmares!"

> "Even the Admirals are actors now. Kuzan reading lines is me during oral exams."

> "Life is tough, even Admirals gotta perform!"

> "The Navy Six Styles is cool and all, but Iron Body? Just standing there like a tank? LMAO."

The comment section was full of memes and sarcasm, but buried between the jokes were genuine voices of support:

> "Marine justice will never be late!"

> "Seeing the Admirals' power gave me goosebumps!"

> "I wanna join the Marines now. Navy Six Styles looks insane!"

> "Hope the Marines keep protecting peace on the sea."

Sengoku looked at the flood of responses on screen and let out a long sigh.

He knew this video had drawn plenty of mockery, but at least it caught attention.

"Looks like the promotion worked after all," he muttered softly, a touch of relief in his tone.

He turned to look at the night sky outside the window, silently wishing for a brighter future for the Marines.

But the peace didn't last.

Two hours later, the Neo Marines dropped a comparison video on their official account.

Left side: the Marine's over-the-top, special-effects-heavy promo.

Right side: raw footage of Zephyr personally training new recruits in basic hand-to-hand combat.

And a single caption beneath it all:

"Justice doesn't need performance."

Sengoku's face turned green.

He stared at the screen. Based on his understanding of Zephyr, the man would never do something like this on his own. There had to be someone behind the scenes pushing this.

"Damn it! These Shichibukai are seriously a plague! I need to report this to the Gorosei immediately—we have to abolish the Shichibukai!"

"As long as they exist, we'll never get new recruits!!"

The Neo Marines' video instantly detonated on TikTok.

Views skyrocketed. The comments section turned into a warzone.

> "The difference is night and day. Marines are filming sci-fi. Neo Marines are showing heart."

> "That shot of Zephyr training recruits hit me hard. This is real justice."

> "Justice doesn't need performance. That line hit me deep."

> "The Marines' promo looks like a blooper reel. Neo Marines are the real deal."

> "I support the Neo Marines. No gimmicks, just resolve."

The Neo Marines' video instantly racked up likes and shares, surpassing the Marines' and grabbing the top spot on the trending board.

People all over were moved by its simplicity and sincerity, rallying behind the Neo Marines and pledging their trust.

Sengoku stared at the soaring stats on screen and rubbed his throbbing forehead.

"…This promo didn't just fail to salvage our image—it ended up boosting the Neo Marines instead."

The rise of the Neo Marines… was now a runaway freight train.

…

On the vast open sea,

Sunlight glittered across the waves, casting shimmering reflections.

A massive Sea King cruised silently through the deep.

Atop its mountain-sized head, Ron lay sprawled on his back, a stalk of unknown seaweed lazily dangling from his lips.

The breeze brushed past, bringing a gentle chill. Ron squinted, basking in the rare moment of calm.

Ding—

His phone buzzed with a notification.

Ron lazily unlocked the screen and scanned the backend stats, raising an eyebrow. "99.98 million... just 20,000 away from 100 million."

A playful smirk curved his lips. He tossed the phone in the air and caught it with ease. "Looks like I'll be upgrading the system tomorrow. Kinda hyped for it."

Suddenly, the Sea King let out a low growl. Ron narrowed his eyes and gazed into the distance.

A pirate ship flying a skull flag was silently approaching from the horizon.

The pirates aboard were clutching harpoons, eyes gleaming with greed.

"Boss! A giant Sea King!" a one-eyed pirate shouted. "If we bag it, we can sell it for—"

Before he could finish, the lookout up in the crow's nest gasped. "Wait! There's someone on it!"

The whole crew raised their binoculars in unison.

And what they saw… was a black-haired man looking back at them, smiling—but not really smiling.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 85: Your Account Has Been Banned

The sunlight outlined him with a golden edge, making him look almost divine.

"Retreat… retreat!" The captain's hands trembled. "Anyone who can use a Sea King as a mount is either a Shichibukai or... anyway, definitely a monster."

But the intern pirates on deck were already frantically pulling out their phones. "Boss! This is perfect viral material!"

One of them fumbled to open TikTok, pointing his camera at the absurd scene in the distance. "The weird track trend is gonna blow up with this!"

"That's right, why didn't I think of that?" The others all whipped out their phones and started filming from every angle.

Even the terrified captain, seeing his crew so fired up, reluctantly pulled out his own phone and hit record.

Whoosh. Their video uploaded successfully.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the traffic to surge...

Screen goes black.

[You are suspected of posting non-compliant content. The account has been banned.]

[Ban Duration Countdown: 99 Years, 99 Months, 99 Days]

"What the hell?!" The pirate ship instantly descended into chaos.

The intern pirates furiously tapped their screens, trying to refresh, but only a single line of text remained:

"This account has been permanently banned for filming forbidden content."

The captain snatched a phone, his face pale. "What did we film? Just a guy riding a Sea King…"

His voice suddenly cut off. A look of horror flashed in his eyes. He realized—they had filmed someone they absolutely shouldn't have.

A light chuckle echoed across the sea, teasing and full of disdain.

Everyone turned in panic... only to see the Sea King had long since vanished into the distance, leaving a long ripple trailing in the water.

Sunlight glinted across the ocean, the waves sparkling like a mirror.

As the sea calmed once again, only the wails of despair echoed from the pirate ship:

"My account!"

"My thirty followers!"

"The FYP I built brick by brick for so long is gone! My goddess!"

The pirates sat pale-faced, staring at their phones in disbelief.

They had no idea a simple filming session would bring such catastrophic results.

The ban notice on the screen was like a death sentence. Hope evaporated on the spot.

...

Early morning mist blanketed the island. Sunlight filtered through the haze in soft golden beams.

Ron stretched lazily as he rose from a temporary bed made of palm leaves.

The giant Sea King lay curled up in the shallows. When it saw Ron awaken, it excitedly sprayed a tiny fountain of water, sending refracted rainbows into the sunlight.

"Well-behaved." Ron casually tossed it a leftover fishbone from the night before. The Sea King caught it gently, like it was some sacred offering. Its eyes shimmered with anticipation.

Just then, the system notification rang in his mind:

[Ding! Congratulations, Host! TikTok user count has exceeded 100 million!]
[Would you like to upgrade?]

"Upgrade!" Ron responded immediately. A translucent interface appeared in front of his eyes, visible only to him:

[Upgrade Completion Countdown: 0 Hours 59 Minutes 59 Seconds]

"An hour wait, huh?" Ron paused mid-stretch. The blue progress bar crawled along the screen.

He sighed. "So this system has loading times too? Fine, whatever. Guess I'll eat first."

Soon, the aroma of grilled meat filled the air. Sea King meat sizzled on the rack, oil dripping into the flames and sending sparks skyward.

Ron took a deep breath, a contented smile curling at his lips. "This stuff is seriously underrated."

He picked up a golden-brown strip of meat and bit into it gently. Flavor burst across his tongue.

Then he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the latest TikTok updates.

When he saw Zephyr's absurd follower spike, he let out a low whistle. "He really has what it takes to be a major influencer."

The account had skyrocketed to ten million followers overnight.

That kind of growth hadn't been seen since Hancock went viral. Clearly, the public's patience with the Marines had reached its limit.

At the top of the hot comment section, a pinned post was still racking up likes by the second:

> "How could we not know if the Neo Marines are good or not? We've endured the Marines for years. Now that someone new shows up, you're telling us they're not legit? You think we can't tell?"

Ron chuckled while chewing. "Comments section's really got some philosophers."

Suddenly—

A new video exploded onto TikTok's trending board, climbing so fast it looked like a glitch.

Publisher: Blackbeard Teach
Title: "So What If You're a Yonko? So What If You Have a Sky-High Bounty? I'm the Next Shichibukai!"

"Marshall D. Teach?" Ron narrowed his eyes and tapped the video.

In the frame, Blackbeard stood beside a massive boulder. Next to him was Ace, bound tightly in Seastone handcuffs.

"Look at this! This is what happens when you try to chase me, Blackbeard!" His voice dripped with arrogance, his eyes full of self-satisfaction.

"Zehahaha!" His trademark laugh made the camera mic tremble. "What's a Yonko? What's a sky-high bounty? I'm turning him over to the Marines and becoming a Shichibukai!"

The video ended on a freeze frame. Blackbeard's grinning mug as his crew dragged Ace toward their ship.

The comment section instantly exploded. No one expected this guy to not only survive a global manhunt… but land a counter-kill.

Captured Whitebeard's Division Commander Ace!

> "Are you kidding me? Whitebeard's commander just got bagged like that?"

> "To get caught by that guy? Ace, what are you doing?!"

> "And he wants to be a Shichibukai? Bro, read the room. Everyone wants to abolish them right now."

> "Some of the Shichibukai are still cool tho—like the Empress."

> "Haha, I already got a job at Empress-sama's factory."

> "No way! You're the security guard at the gate?"

> "..."

Ron held his barbecue fork mid-air, staring at the video.

He glanced at the system countdown—30 minutes to go.

But the sky had already begun to darken, not with clouds, but with swarms of News Birds flying toward Marineford.

Their wings shimmered in the light, casting a shadow that stretched across the sea.

A storm was coming.

"Looks like things are about to shift…" Ron murmured, his voice laced with unease. "Is the Summit War starting early?"

A complicated look crossed his face. He knew the coming battle would shake the entire world.

"This is bad. Looks like the phone alone still can't fix the violence in this world…"

Ron fell silent.

He had hoped that by using TikTok and smartphones, more people would see the truth. That maybe, just maybe, it would reduce conflict and chaos.

But Blackbeard's stunt had flipped the chessboard.

Even the Sea King beside him seemed to sense something. It slapped its tail nervously against the water, letting out a low whine.

Ron gently patted its massive head.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "Everything will be okay."

(To be continued.)