Chapter 1

[Kaienreki Calender, Year 1500]

[Loguetown]

The air hung heavy with humidity, as if even nature itself could sense the gravity of the moment. The main street, lined with quaint buildings and vibrant storefronts, teemed with a throng of onlookers. Men and women from all walks of life gathered to witness the impending spectacle unfolding before them.

The crowd pressed in, creating a mosaic of faces etched with a myriad of emotions. Eyes filled with curiosity, sympathy, and morbid fascination fixed upon the man in chains. Some whispered amongst themselves, their hushed tones carrying a mixture of pity and awe. Others jostled for a better view, craning their necks and stretching on tiptoes, eager to catch a glimpse of the enigmatic figure they had only heard about in whispers.

The scents of sweat, anticipation, and dusty cobblestones mingled in the stifling atmosphere. The buzz of murmured conversations and the occasional gasp of disbelief permeated the air, creating a symphony of whispered secrets and stolen glances. It was a tableau of humanity, brought together by morbid curiosity, the allure of a fallen titan, and the undeniable magnetism of a tragic ending.

As the procession continued, the crowd parted like a turbulent sea, revealing a path leading to the town square. The square itself was bathed in dappled sunlight, casting intermittent shadows across the wooden platform that awaited its doomed occupant. The stark contrast between the pristine, sun-kissed stage and the somber atmosphere lent an eerie aura to the scene.

Under the sweltering sun, beads of sweat formed on his brow. His wrists were bound by unyielding chains as he followed the procession through the bustling main street, his destination the town square. It was there, amidst the crowd, that the ominous execution platform loomed.

Despite his impending demise, he strode forward with an air of unshakable triumph. Each step he took resonated with the confidence of a victorious commander leading his troops to glory.

Gold Roger, a man who had amassed immeasurable wealth, possessed a formidable physique, and wielded unparalleled influence, had achieved every conceivable treasure this world had to offer. Now, as he neared his final destination, the weight of his impending death did nothing to diminish the regal pride that radiated from him. He was, quite literally, a king, unyielding in his grandeur.

"Inherited will....The tide of the times... people's dreams... As long as people seek the answer of freedom, these things will never cease to be."

Two glimmering silver blades, reflecting the sun's rays, were placed before him.

The Marine executioner, drenched in sweat, broke the silence, "Any last words?" he asked, his voice cutting through the heavy air.

The crowd held its breath, fixated on Gold Roger, awaiting his final testament.

"Take this off of me. It's itchy beyond belief," Gold Roger replied, his voice laced with a touch of wry humor amidst the gravity of the situation.

"I can't do that!"

"Do you think I would run away? You sure know how to make a guy feel lonely."

As Gold Roger took his seat on the platform, a mischievous glimmer sparked within his eyes, complementing the playful curve of his lips. His big mustache swayed with the gentle breeze, adding a touch of whimsy to the moment.

"Alright, let's get this over with," he declared, his voice tinged with a mixture of determination and a hint of adventure.

The crowd, intrigued by the enigmatic aura that surrounded him, watched on with a combination of awe and curiosity, sensing that there was more to his smile than mere serenity.

"Oi! Pirate king!" a daring onlooker shouted, breaking the silence.

"Where did you hide all the treasure you found?!"

The question echoed through the crowd, fueling a wave of curiosity and excitement.

"Is it in the Grand Line?!" another voice chimed in, eager for answers.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as the crowd eagerly awaited confirmation of their wildest speculations.

With a serene gaze and a knowing smile, Gold Roger locked eyes with the enthusiastic onlooker. The executioners, their faces darkened by frustration, shouted in unison, "Shut up, you!"

But the persistent voice persevered.

"That great treasure!"

"The One Piece!"

He exclaimed, the words hanging in the air like an untold legend.

Silence engulfed the main square, every breath held as all eyes fixated on Gold Roger, awaiting his response. In that fleeting moment, the weight of countless dreams and aspirations rested upon his shoulders, and the world held its breath, yearning for the secrets that only he held.

"Wahahahaha!"

Gold Roger's laughter reverberated through the once silent square, filling it with an air of defiance.

"My treasure?" he exclaimed, his voice carrying an undeniable energy.

The executioners gripped their blades tightly, their frustration evident as they raised them, cautioning him to not speak without permission.

"If you want it, you can have it!" Roger's voice boomed, his declaration challenging the world itself.

"Find it! I left everything this world has to offer there!"

"-Execution!" The two executioners thrust their formidable blades into Roger from both sides, their actions swift and final.

Silence swallowed the square, the weight of the moment settling upon the stunned onlookers.

But soon, that silence gave way to the resounding cheers of ignited souls. The fire within them, fueled by Roger's words, would soon spread throughout the world, ushering in a new era.

The wooden platform beneath Roger's smiling body became bathed in warm, crimson liquid, symbolizing the end of an era and the birth of the fabled Golden Age of Pirates.

For eternity, he would be remembered as the Eternal Pirate King, his legacy forever etched in the annals of history.

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In a distant corner of the Grand Line, as one king's life drew to a close, the seeds of a conqueror were sown.

A gathering of robust men surrounded a grand wooden house, their muscular frames adorned with the same distinctive symbol, proudly displayed upon their bare chests.

The piercing cry of a newborn baby resonated from within the house, a testament to the continuation of their lineage.

"It's a boy!" boomed a deep, resounding voice that seemed to echo across the land.

"Khehehehe!!" one of the men exclaimed with uncontainable excitement. "The chief has been blessed with another heir! This calls for a grand celebration!"

The surrounding area reverberated with joyous roars as the people joined together in celebration. Songs filled the air, harmonizing with the rhythmic beat of drums, while men and women danced with unbridled enthusiasm. The lively atmosphere contrasted with the rugged masculinity of the men, as graceful women swayed and conversed amidst the revelry.

Amidst the merriment, at the heart of the crowd, rested a cradle. Within its confines lay a small, innocent baby, oblivious to the raucous festivities unfolding around them. The flickering torchlight cast a warm glow upon the child, an embodiment of hope and future aspirations, surrounded by a community that embraced their arrival with open arms.

The air was thick with jubilation and anticipation, as the newborn's presence symbolized a new chapter, a legacy in the making, destined to carve its own path through the treacherous seas of the Grand Line.