One Piece: Ulquiorra Template

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Sabaody Archipelago, the archipelago of defeat and rebirth for the Straw Hat Pirates.

Located near Marine Headquarters, the archipelago consists of 79 mangrove trees, each numbered and supporting a town and various facilities. The exposed roots of these Yarukiman Mangrove trees form the islands of Sabaody.

The archipelago's most distinctive feature is the special resin secreted by the Yarukiman Mangroves. This resin forms bubbles that float into the sky, creating a unique "bubble culture" that permeates nearly every aspect of life on Sabaody, from bubble cars and Ferris wheels to entire houses built on bubbles.

Fish-Man Island and Skypiea also have their own unique features: the giant beanstalk and the Treasure Tree Adam, providing air and sunlight respectively. These three locations share a dreamlike quality.

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Dressrosa

the city of love and toys, and Big Mom's Totto Land have a fairytale aesthetic, crafted by Sugar's Hobby-Hobby Fruit and Streusen's Cook-Cook Fruit, respectively. However, beneath their whimsical exteriors lie dark secrets.

As a crucial gateway to the New World, Sabaody attracts a diverse crowd of pirates, merchants, and bounty hunters. The slave trade, particularly of Fish-Men and Merfolk, is tacitly permitted, contributing to the island's underlying corruption.

“Young Master, the Black Devil has left Marine Headquarters and is headed towards Sabaody Archipelago.” Observing Ian disappear into the distance, Vice Admiral Vergo. contacted Donquixote Doflamingo via Transponder Snail.

“Understood. Remain undercover. It's not time to reveal yourself yet.” Doflamingo’s voice echoed from the snail, before he retrieved his pink feathered coat from a nearby rack and draped it over his shoulders, stepping out of the dimly lit room.

His golden hair, heart-shaped sunglasses, pink feathered coat, cropped trousers, and pointed shoes were bathed in sunlight as he emerged from the castle. The Doflamingo Family executives awaited him, assembled outside.

“Young Master…” they greeted respectfully.

“Yes,” Doflamingo acknowledged with a nod. “Guard the house well. I’m going to see for myself if this ‘Black Winged Devil’ rivals Mihawk in strength. Even if I'm outmatched, given his personality…”

“He won’t let us go. He’ll pursue us to Dressrosa. But with the combined might of the Doflamingo Family, we can eliminate this pest who dared to threaten our family. Being a Celestial Dragon certainly has its advantages. The Marines wouldn’t dare move against us so easily.”

Doflamingo chuckled darkly. Due to his traumatic childhood, his family was sacred, and anyone who threatened them faced his wrath. Diamante, Vergo, Trebol… they were among the first to follow him, supporting him during his darkest hours.

They had recognized his potential for kingship, but wasn't that the way of the world? Without value or potential for profit, even killing someone was considered a waste of effort.

“Yes, we await your return with the Black Winged Devil’s head!” the executives cheered. Doflamingo raised his hands, as if manipulating invisible strings attached to the clouds, and soared into the distance.

Like a flamingo taking flight, he utilized his String-String Fruit powers to travel across the sky. As he had stated, his primary objective was to gauge Ian’s strength, to determine if he truly rivaled Mihawk, and to provoke him, giving him a reason to pursue him to Dressrosa, where the Doflamingo Family could eliminate him.

Although Sabaody was relatively close, only a few islands away, he couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters. By the time he reappeared, who knew where Ian would be?

Every executive in his family was formidable. It was entirely possible that Ian would underestimate them. Due to his Celestial Dragon status and Warlord title, the Marines wouldn't interfere. Eliminating Ian would simply require finding a suitable replacement among the Warlords. But they were unaware…

That reality rarely aligned with expectations.

Marine Grove 49. Ian passed through the imposing Gates of Justice and arrived at the central mangrove, Grove 47, his Vice Admiral status granting him access.

The Gates of Justice stood between Impel Down and Marine Headquarters, a formidable barrier. He recalled how the Whitebeard Pirates had bypassed it during the Marineford War by coating their ship and submerging.

However, Whitebeard likely possessed the power to shatter the Gates with a single punch. After all, his title as the “Strongest Man in the World” wasn’t unearned. He had mastered the Quake-Quake Fruit, pushing it to its absolute limits. Ian could achieve the same level of mastery eventually.

Within him resided the power of six Devil Fruits, each as potent as the Quake-Quake Fruit, and he would acquire more.

Grove 19. The town bustled with activity, its streets lined with hotels, entertainment venues, and a bustling casino…

Inside, a middle-aged man in a simple coat sat with his eyes closed at a roulette table, a mountain of chips piled before him, evidence of his winning streak.

A crowd had gathered around him, their eyes gleaming with anticipation as they awaited his next bet. They had been following his lead, winning consistently for over ten rounds. “I bet on white…”

The man pondered for a moment before pushing a stack of chips forward, his eyes opening slightly.

His gaze was unsettling, his eyes devoid of pupils, only white sclera visible. Two distinct scars crossed his face, each slicing through an eye. His identity was unmistakable.

He was Issho, later known as Fujitora, one of the Marines' admirals, recruited alongside Ryokugyu after the Marineford War to fill the vacancies left by Aokiji and Akainu. However, he hadn’t adopted his alias yet, still using his birth name.

No one would suspect that this unassuming man, dressed in simple clothes and gambling alongside ordinary citizens, possessed power rivaling the strongest in the world. “I’ll bet on white too! Me too!”

Following Issho’s lead, the crowd eagerly placed their bets on white. The dealer, witnessing the scene, felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He gritted his teeth, refusing to believe his luck had run out, and spun the roulette wheel.

Click, click, click…

The wheel slowed to a stop, landing on a number corresponding to the color white. “White! Yes!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, their roars echoing through the casino, drawing curious glances from other patrons. The dealer slumped in defeat, his body trembling. This single round had cost the casino nearly a week’s worth of earnings, and if the streak continued, the losses would only mount.

“Impressive.” A voice echoed through the crowd. A young man, seemingly in his late teens, with a gentle, unassuming demeanor, dressed in white with a black sash, his skin unusually pale, had appeared at the roulette table. It was Ian, having maintained his fused form for an extended period.

Both his Black Winged Devil and Vice Admiral identities attracted unwanted attention.

Having finally arrived at Sabaody, he intended to enjoy himself. His appearance drew curious glances from the crowd, but most quickly dismissed him.

The prolonged exposure to Ulquiorra’s aloof demeanor had tempered his demonic aura, leaving him with a strikingly handsome and approachable appearance.

He resembled a young, nobleman, his gentle demeanor a stark contrast to his true nature. He exuded an air of calm confidence, reminiscent of Sosuke Aizen, the former captain of the 5th Division in the Soul Society, his true power hidden beneath a veneer of polite sophistication.

Although he appeared wealthy, the other gamblers paid him little mind. Their focus was on currying favor with Issho, the man who brought them luck. They eagerly offered him nearly half their winnings.

“Heh heh heh…” Issho chuckled, rubbing his head. These gamblers were shrewd, recognizing a valuable asset when they saw one.

They were clearly experienced in navigating the social intricacies of the upper class.

He turned his head towards Ian, his blind eyes seemingly focused on the young man. “It’s just a small trick. Nothing compared to your abilities.”

Allowed him to perceive the immense power hidden within Ian, a force dormant yet potent, comparable to his own. He sensed that if unleashed, this power would transform the young man before him into a force of pure destruction, a stark contrast to his current gentle demeanor.

“Impressive.” Ian’s eyes flickered, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he repeated Issho’s earlier compliment, imbuing it with a different meaning.

Issho’s Observation Haki had surpassed precognition. He could perceive the strength of a person’s soul.

Or perhaps, precognition was merely one facet of his abilities. Roger’s ability to hear the “Voice of All Things” and Fujitora’ ability to read minds were all manifestations of heightened spiritual awareness.

Issho smiled gently at Ian before turning back to the roulette wheel, contemplating his next bet. He was, after all, one of them.

Concealing one’s true strength and mingling with newcomers was a common pastime for powerful individuals.

A silent understanding, beneficial to both parties.

The dealer, seeing Issho prepare to place another bet, felt his anxiety rising. He had just paid out a substantial sum to the crowd, and the casino couldn't afford another loss.

Suddenly, a group of men in black appeared, seemingly the casino’s security. Armed with swords and firearms, they approached the table. “Clear the area!”

A man with a cold, calculating expression emerged from the group, his eyes scanning the crowd.

Even those blinded by greed hesitated, swallowing their excitement and collecting their winnings. Their lives were more valuable than any amount of money, especially after such a profitable run. There was no point in winning if they couldn't live to spend it.

Soon, only Ian and Issho remained at the table. The guards moved to approach Ian, but the casino manager, his brow furrowed, stopped them with a shake of his head.

Despite his calm demeanor, Ian exuded an aura of authority, his attire made of an unknown material that defied identification. They couldn't discern its composition, nor could they sense its true nature, woven from spiritual energy.

It was best to avoid unnecessary conflict. He possessed a subtle yet palpable aura of command, like a seasoned leader, far more intimidating than any aristocrat.

Displeased? He would simply eliminate the source of his displeasure.

Such individuals were men of action, not words.

Their target was Issho. Ian couldn't help but admire the man's ability to control his Power, a force that, when unleashed, could shake the very foundations of the world.

“Hey, old man, you’ve been lucky. But are you sure wanna gamble with me?” The manager dismissed the sweating dealer with a wave of his hand, his gaze fixed on Issho.

Issho, who had been gathering his chips, seemingly preparing to leave, paused.

Around him, the guards stood ready, their weapons drawn, their killing intent palpable.

“If you want, I’m willing.” Sensing the hostile atmosphere, Issho placed his chips back on the table, his voice calm yet firm, his earlier jovial demeanor replaced by a serious expression.

Ian knew that Issho was concerned for their safety. If they persisted, blood would be shed.

“Good.” The manager smirked inwardly. He had already investigated the blind man. He had arrived on a small boat, dressed in simple clothes, and resided in a modest dwelling. He was clearly a nobody.

“How about a single round to decide the winner? My chips match yours. The winner takes all.” The manager approached the roulette wheel, his voice laced with confidence.

“Really? Then I’ll place my bet. All on white.” A smile returned to Issho’s face as he pushed his chips forward, feigning excitement, like a gambler reveling in his luck. The other gamblers could only pity him.

They hoped the manager would let him go after winning his chips. After all, he had brought them considerable wealth. They cursed his inability to quit while he was ahead, leading to this inevitable confrontation. Perhaps his simple attire was a result of his gambling addiction.

Or perhaps, he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a master gambler concealing his true skills. They couldn't believe that someone so favored by luck would be foolish enough to risk it all.

“Very well. Then I’ll bet on black.”

The manager chuckled, spinning the roulette wheel. It quickly came to a stop, landing on white. A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

He narrowed his gaze at Issho. “Looks like your luck has run out. It’s black. I win.”

“It seems fortune isn’t on my side today. With my eyes closed, all I see is darkness. Even if I desire white, it remains beyond my reach.” Issho sat in silence for a moment before speaking, his voice tinged with resignation.

Ian watched their exchange with amusement. Despite his gambling habit, Issho’s attention to detail was impeccable.

Every action, every word he uttered, carried a deeper meaning, even now.

As he had said, life was a gamble. Victory brought a bright future, while defeat left one to wallow in the shadows. But Issho showed no signs of despair, his confidence unwavering.

He possessed the strength to overcome any obstacle.

Was he foolish? No, he was simply amused.

Ian addressed Issho, his voice calm and measured. “Though you cannot see, though darkness surrounds you, you stand in the center of white, striving for the light, seeking only a clear conscience. Isn't that right?”

“Your words carry a great meaning.”

“As do yours.”

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Word Count [2306]

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To Be Continued..

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