Late at night, Holy Land Mariejois.
Far from the edge of the forest in the residential area, a bloodied hand suddenly grasped the cliff edge of the floating island.
Moments later, Iggy pulled his upper body up, swung his legs over, and stepped onto the land of Mariejois.
"Whew… Huff… I finally made it."
Standing in the Holy Land, Iggy panted heavily and gazed at the lush woods ahead, memories crashing back like a wave, taking him back six years in an instant.
Images flooded his mind.
Six years ago, it was the blood of him and his mother that stained this sacred ground—marking it as the starting point of all his hatred.
He had watched her die in his arms.
He had been hunted relentlessly by CP4.
He hadn't even had the chance to bury her.
That last desperate escape… his plunge into the sea… a broken child, reborn as a ghost driven by vengeance.
"Celestial Dragons… I'm back…"
The Iggy of now had long since been reborn—full of strength, hatred, and purpose.
Just as he prepared to enter the forest, a wave of exhaustion overtook him. His legs gave out.
His vision blurred to black, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Despite his strength—now surpassing that of a Vice Admiral—climbing the 10,000-meter Red Line with his bare hands had completely drained him.
Were it not for the burning drive for revenge, he might have fallen into the sea long ago.
---
"There's someone here—it's a kid!"
"He's still alive… A runaway slave, maybe?"
"Bring him in. Let the higher-ups decide."
No one knew how much time had passed before four patrolling guards discovered the unconscious boy lying in the grass.
Seeing he was unarmed and unconscious, they cautiously approached with weapons drawn.
But they didn't expect that the teen—hardened by bloodshed—had developed the instinct to respond to danger at any moment.
"Wha—"
One of the guards reached out to grab Iggy, only for his wrist to be suddenly seized with a vice-like grip.
It was as if he'd grabbed a corpse that had suddenly sprung back to life.
He tried desperately to pull his wrist back, but it was no use—he was trapped.
The struggle jolted Iggy awake.
And before the guard could scream, his flesh began rotting from the wrist up, spreading like wildfire.
"Monster!!"
The other three guards recoiled in horror, screaming as they watched their comrade shrivel into a husk before their eyes.
They fired.
But Iggy had already absorbed his victim's life force—his body surging with vitality once more.
Before the bullets landed, he vanished.
"Huh? Where'd he go?!"
Only smoke remained on the grass.
As one of the guards blinked in disbelief, Iggy appeared above him like a ghost.
A brutal elbow smashed into the guard's skull. His eyes bulged, blood spurted from his mouth, and he collapsed—his head caved in, dead on impact.
"There! Shoot!"
A flurry of gunshots cracked through the air, startling birds from the treetops.
But the other two guards vanished next, as if swallowed by the shadows.
They tried to move back-to-back, hoping to cover one another.
Too late.
A force grabbed them from behind and slammed their heads together. Bone crunched. Brain matter splattered the grass.
"Whew… Thanks for the energy."
With the guards now corpses at his feet, Iggy calmly stepped deeper into the forest—newly stolen life force surging through his veins.
Over the past six years, Iggy's strength had skyrocketed.
Yes, he had fought countless battles… but the real secret to his rapid rise?
Life Return.
The ability to manipulate his own life force.
By taking lives, he could bypass years of training.
If mastered properly, it could replace eating, sleeping, even rest—allowing endless combat.
It healed minor wounds, temporarily enhanced physical attributes, and even let him mimic the abilities of those he absorbed.
And if taken further… maybe even eternal youth.
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Iggy arrived at his next destination.
The Celestial Dragons' manor.
Brightly lit, even at night. Lavish as ever.
"Father… Are you ready to beg for forgiveness?"
Iggy stared at the familiar estate—once his home—and flew over the gate silently.
Slipping through empty corridors, he turned a corner and paused at a freshly renovated section of floor.
The entrance to the cellar.
Where he had lived for ten years.
"Hmph. Still covering up the past, huh?"
Iggy knelt and tapped the floor, then dug his fingers into the newly painted boards.
With a creak, a piece of the floor lifted, sending dust flying.
Beneath it—a dark, forgotten stairwell.
He descended the worn stone steps.
Dust and cobwebs coated the basement, yet the familiar warmth seeped into his heart.
Gently closing the slab above, Iggy lit a candle that had somehow survived six years.
"It's just like it was…"
In the flickering light, he imagined his mother's figure emerging from the steps, smiling gently.
"Iggy, time to eat!"
He reached out, but there was nothing.
Only emptiness.
The vision dissolved into rage and sorrow.
Suppressing the storm in his chest, Iggy turned to the wall and searched it carefully—until he found what he came for.
"Got it…"
One, a Devil Fruit Encyclopedia.
The other, a rare Ohara-published text on historical linguistics—including knowledge of Poneglyphs.
Tucking both books under his arm, Iggy reopened the slab and ascended from the dark.
"Goodbye, Mother… I'm off to avenge you."
He hesitated at the threshold, glancing back one last time at the fading black hole beneath the floor.
Then sealed it shut.
As if saying farewell to the last gentle feeling left in his heart.
---
We know he ain't strong enough, But don't worry.
I created a p@treon account btw.
I'm uploading up to 30 chapters on it.
I'd drop the link once it's ready,
My membership fee is cheap !