As dusk fell, the sky blurred, and the fiery sunset, piled up like flames, covered half the heavens.
Though night had not yet fully descended, the transitioning moon already hung high above, overlooking everything.
While Sabaody Archipelago had always been bustling, prosperous, and brightly lit, today's scene was several times more intense. The five docks in the GR70 district, where the hotel street was located, were completely occupied by various sailing ships, most of which were luxurious vessels flying the royal flags of different nations.
Ships arriving later had no choice but to spread out to the sides of the island, docking at the edges of other districts. Even so, finding an empty spot was proving to be quite difficult.
At this moment, the people of this world finally understood what it meant to be packed like sardines, what it meant for ships to flow like a woven fabric, and what it meant to experience a traffic jam of ships.
A vast number of vessels nearly surrounded the entire Sabaody Archipelago.
Meanwhile, every street and every shop on the island was teeming with dense crowds, each person fully enjoying this dreamlike land where bubbles constantly rose from the ground.
Fortunately, the previously lawless zone from GR1 to GR29, which had been thoroughly investigated by the Marines led by Dragon, had now been transformed into normal commercial and residential areas, significantly increasing the island's capacity to accommodate tourists.
In the past, people would not have dared to venture into these extremely dangerous zones.
Now, however, the sight of patrolling Marines and Neptune Army soldiers, along with the occasional passing of Autonomous Large Surveillance Den Den Mushi, provided the public with a sense of inexplicable security.
GR33 District.
"Don't push! Don't push!"
"Let me repeat, only those with invitations are allowed to enter the 'Soap Bubble Dome Arena' tonight. Everyone else, please head to the main squares of each district at 9 PM to watch the performances—!"
Over a dozen government officials in black suits, holding megaphones, shouted hoarsely at the surging crowd.
In front of them was a bridge connecting one district to another, where the Marines had set up heavy checkpoints to block the entrance, occasionally allowing in escorted invitees.
Among the invitees were kings attending this year's Levely, nobles who had traveled from nearby islands, but mostly local residents of Sabaody Archipelago and Fish-men and Mermen from Fish-Man Island.
Tonight.
The 'Liberation Day Grand Celebration Gala,' organized by the Publicity Department and broadcast live to the world, had three main objectives.
First, it aimed to allow people from all nations to celebrate the complete prohibition of the slave trade. Second, it sought to use this opportunity to bring the locals of Sabaody Archipelago and the Fish-men of Fish-Man Island closer together in a lively event, fostering a stronger bond between the two groups.
In recent days, the former had already grown accustomed to the presence of the Neptune Army and were no longer surprised by the Fish-men. However, since one was a military force and the other civilians, there had been few opportunities for interaction.
Third... At 8:30 PM on September 15, 1498 of the Sea Calendar.
People across various seas and islands, already engaged in their own celebratory parties, had turned on their Image Snails, eagerly awaiting the start of the gala.
They partied while watching the party, ate and drank while enjoying the music and dance! An interesting phenomenon had emerged: after the recent surge of global live broadcasts, people had started to grow accustomed to the concept of live streaming.
In a world without television stations or entertainment programs, these global live broadcasts have brought immense joy to the people.
People have begun to wonder when the next public live broadcast by the World Government will take place.
This sentiment is shared even by Imu, who sits in a recliner within Pangaea Castle. On the social square, the projection from the Image Snails is already displayed in mid-air above the field. However, since the event hasn't started yet, the stage is empty, and only the bustling crowd of onlookers can be seen.
"Is Mihawk still not here? It's almost nine o'clock," Gion asked anxiously, standing there and staring in the direction of the castle gate.
Stussy, standing gracefully behind Imu, smiled and said, "He's probably sparring with Saint Figarland Shanks and lost track of time."
"Hmph, he only spars with me for an hour every day, and spends the rest of his time with that Shanks. It's really unfair!" Gion pouted.
But she was curious about one thing—aside from Mihawk, could there really be a Celestial Dragon with such exceptional swordsmanship?
Imu, who overheard Gion's words, maintained a cold expression on the surface but couldn't help but complain in his heart: "He still has a sweat-inducing workout with me before bed every night." You're just here to warm him up after he wakes up in the morning."
Suddenly, Gion's eyes lit up.
"Ah, he's here!"
Imu didn't turn his head, but merely glanced over. Sure enough, he saw Mihawk walking over coolly with Yoru, the Black Blade, slung on his back. However, trailing behind him was a little figure looking around curiously, which made Imu's eyes narrow.
"Why did he bring Shanks?"
Indeed, that "little tail" was none other than Shanks, a former apprentice on the Roger Pirates' ship. At just fifteen years old, he wore a straw hat and stood only up to Mihawk's shoulder, as he hadn't yet reached adulthood.
Soon, Mihawk approached and lowered his head to address Imu respectfully, "Sir, Shanks is alone at home and didn't want to go to any other Figarland estate, so I invited him over as a friend."
What is this, bringing a classmate home to play?
Imu felt both amused and exasperated inside. He calmly gazed into Shanks' eyes, and the latter could only hold his gaze for two seconds before instinctively looking away, his body tensing up.
Nevertheless, Shanks took off his straw hat and bowed politely, saying, "Um, so you're the godfather Mihawk often mentions. My name is Shanks. Sorry for intruding."
"Hmm."
Imu gave a meaningful look at the straw hat in Shanks' hand and instructed a nearby maid, "Bring another chair."
"Yes, sir," the maid obediently complied.
"Phew—"
Seeing this, Mihawk's tense heart relaxed. Despite his cool exterior, he hadn't been entirely sure whether Imu would accept Shanks.
The reason Mihawk held Shanks in such high regard was that Shanks was a rare Celestial Dragon who could hold a conversation with him and also possessed considerable strength.
"Thank you."
After expressing his gratitude, Shanks had just settled into the chair when he heard the voice of Saint Nerona speaking softly.
"Your experiences are quite dramatic. You must have witnessed many things while following the Roger Pirates, and that is indeed a precious treasure in life. But now that you are aware of your identity, you should clarify your stance. Keep the past memories hidden in your heart, but do not let them influence your present and future judgments."
Everyone present knew Shanks' background, so they naturally understood the meaning behind Imu's words. Shanks lowered his eyes, pursed his lips, and listened silently, gripping his thighs tightly.
"The kindness of raising you is greater than the kindness of giving birth to you, that's true. But you must understand one thing: the reason you were adopted by Roger was not because your parents abandoned you, but because they were killed by the pirate Rocks."
"Pirates killed your parents, and pirates also raised you. In that sense, you could say you owe nothing to pirates. But you still owe the Celestial Dragons the kindness of giving you life."
"Accept the fact that you are a Celestial Dragon, and live well. One day, you will take pride in this identity and realize how insignificant the so-called Roger Pirates truly are."