The spark that ignited it all began six years ago—with the assassination attempt in the Holy Land, Mariejois.
That day, Iggy's life was shattered. His mother was killed before his very eyes, and he barely escaped with his life. From that moment on, his fate was completely rewritten.
The Celestial Dragons covered up the incident immediately. News of the assassination never left the walls of Mariejois, and by the following day, everything returned to its usual calm—on the surface, at least.
But for Iggy, that day never ended. Since then, he had been plagued by nightmares, haunted by the memory of his mother's lifeless eyes, and driven by a curse: the curse of hatred.
"My first target… CP4—the World Government's watchdog."
For six long years, alongside intense physical and mental training, Iggy hunted for any clue to CP4's whereabouts.
But the organization was a ghost.
It operated directly under the Celestial Dragons, with no public trail. No documentation. No witnesses. The world acted like they didn't even exist.
Island after island, clue after clue, he searched—but found nothing.
Then, on this day, after paying tribute to Sabo at the sea cliff, Iggy decided to pass by Mt. Colubo to catch a glimpse of his old friends from afar—Ace, Luffy, and the others.
To avoid being seen, he climbed to the highest peak nearby and scanned the area from above.
That's when he noticed something strange—a small house, full of smoke, had been built near Dadan's bandit hideout.
After asking a few villagers at the base of the mountain, he learned it had belonged to a hunter who had moved into the forest… exactly six years ago.
"Right after the Holy Land attack… suspicious."
Smelling something off, Iggy waited until the afternoon and then silently infiltrated the house.
At first glance, it seemed like any ordinary, weather-worn cabin. The furniture was basic, lived-in—but nothing out of place.
An hour passed as he searched every inch.
Nothing.
Still, his instincts screamed that something was wrong.
Then, while pacing around, his eyes landed on a row of shotguns mounted on the wall.
"A hunter would never let dust gather on his weapons…"
He examined each shotgun carefully. Externally, they looked normal. He loaded and checked the chambers—empty.
But on the third try, a bullet clinked to the floor.
Ding.
Iggy froze.
He bent down, picked it up—and his breath caught.
"Kairoseki… a Sea-Prism Stone bullet."
The weight. The glint. The craftsmanship. He recognized it immediately.
These were the same bullets that tore through his mother's defenses—piercing even her hardened Haki. Only the most elite government forces had access to such ammunition.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at the bullet.
"Mom… maybe your spirit led me here."
Gripping it tightly, he muttered a silent vow. This clue—the first in six years—would be the thread he pulled to unravel it all.
"If this really is CP4's outpost… then I'll wait."
What Iggy didn't know was that it was the patriarch of the Celestial Dragons who had ordered complete elimination of all witnesses that day. That very order had led to CP4 placing an undercover agent here to ensure no one from the Grey Terminal survived long enough to expose the truth.
Now, unknowingly, Iggy had tracked them to one of their last remaining safehouses.
Placing the shotguns back in their original position and making sure the cabin looked untouched, he slipped back into the forest.
He waited until midnight.
That's when he heard footsteps crunching along the forest path.
A towering man, dressed in rough animal pelts and linen, entered the cabin. Slung over his shoulder was a massive stag, freshly hunted. With a grunt, he dropped it to the floor and lifted a nearby jug to gulp down water.
"When is this damn assignment gonna end?" he muttered, lighting an oil lamp and collapsing into a chair.
His eyes drifted to the floor.
He frowned.
Something wasn't right.
He knelt down and brushed the floor—dust patterns had been disturbed. Someone had been here.
Just as he reached to inspect further—
Pop!
The oil lamp shattered, plunging the room into darkness.
"Gah!"
A cry of pain followed. The man dropped to one knee, his right leg pierced clean through. The wound was scorched black, smoke curling from the hole.
"No shot fired… a finger strike?"
The attacker was precise. Lethal. And fast.
He tried to rise, but—
Crack!
Another strike hit his shoulder, sending blood flying. His left arm dropped limp.
"Who the hell are you!?" he roared, wincing in agony.
A figure stepped into the moonlight.
A calm, composed teen, eyes cold with fury.
He approached silently and placed a hand on the man's shoulder—gripping tightly.
"You're with CP4. I could smell it on the house. Too clean. Too careful."
The man froze. That name confirmed it.
He raised his arm to retaliate, but the teen's hand pinned him down with inhuman strength.
"My name is Iggy. I'm the boy your squad has been hunting all these years."
The man's eyes widened in horror.
Crunch.
The boy's grip tightened. Bones cracked audibly as the giant let out a scream of pain.
Six years.
Six years this man had stayed hidden in the mountains—waiting to finish the job.
He never imagined the kid would come to him. And he never imagined the kid would be this strong.
"Tell me… where's CP4's headquarters?"
The man gritted his teeth. He said nothing.
Iggy expected that. Without a word, he pulled a photo from his coat and held it up.
"This is your daughter."
The man's blood ran cold.
Iggy had learned something in his path to vengeance:
Sometimes, the surest way to destroy someone… is to threaten what they love most.