Meanwhile, Jason had no idea about the conversation between Ginny and Kuma—both were convinced that he was Nika. Even if he knew, Jason would just correct them, saying casually that he wasn't that Nika... but someone much more powerful.
After completing what was perhaps one of the few good deeds in the world of One Piece, Jason disappeared from Sabaody like a gust of wind, crossing thousands of miles in a matter of seconds until he reached his destination.
From above, with a cold and silent gaze, he watched a colossal stone bridge stretching across the East Blue—a structure so ancient that it seemed to defy time itself.
Tequila Wolf.
Seven hundred years of slavery, sweat, and death. Millions of lives sacrificed to erect that monstrosity, a World Government project designed to connect bridges and territories, as if the world itself were a chain bound by their ambition.
"Nothing could be more fitting than for me to destroy it," he thought, his blue eyes reflecting the colossal structure below. A slight smile curved his lips. "Or perhaps... it would be more meaningful if the slaves themselves destroyed it. It would be more than revenge. It would be liberation... it would be justice."
==
Another normal day in Tequila Wolf.
Wake up before sunrise, carry heavy stones, and continue building the bridge.
If anyone stopped for even a few seconds, the guards would come with their whips—and they wouldn't stop until blood began to drip onto the ground.
Soran, a girl born into slavery, still remembered what had happened a few days ago.
She had never seen anything like it—a giant screen appeared in the sky, and even the guards, who always pretended to know everything, looked scared.
When the image lit up, Soran saw things he had never imagined.
Forests full of soap bubbles, seas of vivid colors, strange cities...
And then, a man with a serene and beautiful appearance appeared. Before him, another man with a transparent bubble on his head knelt, trembling.
In an instant, the handsome man raised his hand, spun his spear at high speed, and with a simple gesture, made the man in the bubble float.
Before she could blink, he was torn apart—turned into a mass of flesh and blood that fell to the ground like red rain.
That was death.
Soran was confused. The guards, however, were in shock, murmuring among themselves that the dead man was a "Celestial Dragon." A god.
"A god?" she thought, confused.
But... how could a god die like that?
Soran thought about the images again, trying to understand what she had seen, but the expressions on the guards' faces—a mixture of fear and despair—made her fall silent.
The older prisoners could barely stand as they witnessed the scene.
Some trembled, others just stared at the sky in silence, not understanding if what they were seeing was real or some kind of forbidden miracle.
But the image on the screen didn't end there.
After the man in the bubble died, another appeared—a guy dressed in yellow, wearing a Navy jacket. He looked at Jason with a lazy gaze.
Soran didn't understand what was happening.
The two figures began to move, but to her it all looked like a blur—sparks of golden and black light cutting across the sky, like lightning bolts fighting each other.
The sound accompanying the broadcast was confusing: explosions, winds, and something that sounded like the air itself being torn apart.
In a matter of seconds, Jason grabbed the man in yellow by the head and threw him to the ground.
The screen shook, the image became unstable, and an intense light covered everything before disappearing.
When the screen went blank, silence enveloped Tequila Wolf.
Soran was still staring at the sky, unable to comprehend what she had seen—just a bunch of lights and shapes moving too fast to follow.
To her, it all seemed like a distant dream, something that belonged to another world, far beyond the chains that bound her wrists.
After that, many other things happened on the broadcast.
Jason talked to people whom even the guards recognized as important. Soran didn't understand who they were, but he could tell by the way everyone watched—silently, tensely, afraid to even blink.
Soon after, the scene changed.
She saw a pirate crew being destroyed. The captain shouted the names of his companions, but there was nothing he could do.
Soran watched in silence, not knowing what to feel. It was like watching a bad dream of someone she had never met.
Then came the worst: a mother's sacrifice for her child.
And along with that, the cruelty of the Navy—soldiers taking women and newborns, treating them like trash.
Soran's chest tightened. She didn't fully understand, but something inside her told her that this was wrong.
"It looks like he's going to join the war of the best," murmured the guards.
When the screen finally went blank, the labor camp fell silent.
The slaves had a lot to think about.
Some said that it wouldn't change anything for them, that their lives would continue as before under the whip.
Others, especially the newcomers, spoke with hope—they said the world was changing, that Jason was confronting the gods.
But one by one, those who spoke too much were taken away by the guards.
Soran never saw them again. And she knew very well what that meant.
Another day dawned in Tequila Wolf. The cold wind cut into their faces, and the routine returned—stones, orders, silence.
But then something different happened.
Something descended from the sky, piercing through the clouds and falling gently onto the snow.
Soran cowered, frightened.
Amidst the white smoke, there was a woman.
Her hair danced in the wind, and her face bore a deep weight.
Soran felt a chill.
She had seen that face before...
Then she remembered: it was the woman from the giant screen.
Soran took the woman into her house and cared for her until she awoke.
When she finally opened her eyes, the woman introduced herself in a calm, steady voice: her name was Nico Robin.
Soran told Robin that they were in Tequila Wolf and, excited, showed her her drawings—pieces of wood marked with imaginary islands, seas, and creatures she dreamed of meeting.
Robin looked at each stroke with affection.
Seeing the innocent sparkle in the girl's eyes, she smiled softly and began to tell her a little about her adventures, describing floating islands, cities of clouds, and oceans full of mysteries.
Soran's eyes lit up. For the first time, the world seemed bigger than the chains that bound her.
But when the girl mentioned that she had seen Robin on the big screen, the archaeologist's expression changed.
Her gaze became distant, somber.
Memories came flooding back—the confusion in Sabaody, the screams, the despair of seeing each of her friends disappear before her eyes.
For a moment, Robin was silent, taking a deep breath.
That memory still hurt.
But when she realized she was alive, far away from all that, she began to reflect calmly.
If she was there, maybe it hadn't been an execution... but a rescue.
"What else happened after that, Soran?" she asked, her voice soft but attentive.
Soran thought for a moment, then a curious smile appeared on his face.
"Oh, yes! That man... Jason! He showed a list of the most beautiful women in the world. You were among them!"
Robin blinked, unresponsive.
"..."
Of all the possibilities that ran through her mind—Jason attacking sailors, confronting the Gorosei, declaring war—a beauty ranking was certainly not among them.
"That friend of yours was there too! The navigator. You're part of the Straw Hat crew, aren't you?"
Robin just nodded, listening as Soran continued to recount what he had seen.
But then the girl mentioned something more serious.
She spoke about the televised execution, about the war that seemed to be approaching...
And she described, with sadness, the sacrifice of a mother and the cruelty of the Navy against women and newborns.
When she finished, she looked at Robin with teary eyes.
"Why is the Navy so evil, Robin? What did the babies do to deserve to die?"
Robin's heart ached.
She didn't answer right away—she just looked at the floor, not knowing how to explain such cruelty to someone so pure.
Soran, who had once believed that Tequila Wolf's bridge would unite the world, now saw everything differently.
Was this bridge really a good thing?
"Soran, it's late. Go to sleep before you get tired tomorrow."
The male voice came from the entrance to the attic. It was one of the older men in the camp. He poked his head inside, looked at Robin, and simply nodded respectfully.
Unlike Soran, he knew very well what that woman represented.
He also knew what that man—Jason—was capable of doing.
If Robin were hurt, if the guards tried to hand her over, or worse... who could say what would happen to Tequila Wolf?
A man capable of killing a god in front of the world would not let that go unpunished.
"Bye, Robin."
Soran said goodbye to Robin and went to sleep.
Meanwhile, Robin stayed awake for a few hours, thinking about her friends, how she would return to Sabaody... and the significance of being on Jason's "list of beauties."
What did it mean to be on that man's list?
Was he watching her... and Nami?
In the end, Robin just sighed and tried to sleep.
The next day, Soran woke up early and went to visit Robin, wanting to know if she was already up.
Robin, as always, woke up early. Soran brought her a bowl of porridge he had saved and talked to her for a few minutes before being called to work.
When the adults shouted her name, Soran said goodbye with a smile, grabbed his tools, and went with the other slaves.
Even with the cold cutting into his skin, Soran worked happily, counting down the hours until he could talk to Robin again—he wanted to hear more about his stories and adventures.
Tok~
As she daydreamed about Robin's adventures, a sound interrupted her reverie. She looked to the side and saw the old man she lived with—the same one who had sent her to bed the night before—lying exhausted in the snow.
A chill ran through her stomach. She knew what would happen if he didn't get up: he would be whipped.
"G-get up, sir!" said Soran, running towards him.
But before she could reach him, a whip cut through the air and grazed her feet.
"Return to your place, slave."
The guard's cold voice made her stop instantly.
The man slowly approached the old man, stretching out the whip in his hands.
"Get up," he ordered.
The old man tried, but his legs trembled too much to support him.
"I said—"
Before the blow could be struck, a commotion spread across the field.
The sounds of tools falling and stifled breaths filled the air.
"What are you doing?! Get back to work!" shouted another guard.
But no one heard him.
Everyone was staring at the same spot in the sky.
The guard followed their gaze—and the blood froze in his veins.
High above, a figure loomed before the sun, turning it into a living shadow that covered the entire land.
"W-what is that?"
"Who is he?"
"C-could it be... him?"
The murmurs mingled with fear and reverence.
But everyone knew the answer even before they said it.
It was Jason D. Winchester.
Confirmation came when a colossal screen appeared in the sky, flashing a few times before beginning to broadcast the image of the bridge—and all the inhabitants of Tequila Wolf.