One Piece: Chopping Ace Back to Foosha Village at the Start

The moment the patrolmen entered, the girl cowered behind the old man, her eyes filled with fear. The old man, meanwhile, greeted them with a submissive, almost groveling smile.

"Gentlemen! You must've been working all day. Haven't eaten yet, have you? Please, let me treat you all to a hearty meal. On the house!"

"Shut it. Who wants your filthy noodles? Where's the money? Don't you dare say you don't have it."

Crash!

One of the men violently shoved away the bowl in the old man's hands. It shattered on the floor, noodles and hot broth splattering everywhere.

Wayne's eyes narrowed. He couldn't stand by and watch anymore.

"Is this how you treat someone who's just offering you a meal? That's pretty low."

Even pirates, for all their reputation, wouldn't act this despicably when someone greeted them with kindness. There was an old saying you don't strike a smiling face.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be? Think this concerns you?"

The patrolman sneered and turned toward Wayne.

"You look unfamiliar. I don't recognize you. You an outsider? Did you register?"

Wayne opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, the old man quickly cut him off. With trembling hands, he pulled a crumpled wad of Berries from his pocket.

"Gentlemen, here... here's one million Berries. That's our sin tax for this month. We'll... we'll be Lower Class citizens again, just like before..."

The patrolman snatched the money from the old man's hand, scowling.

"One million? That's not enough. The Lower Class rate went up. It's seventy thousand per head now. Hand over another four hundred thousand."

Sweat began to bead on the old man's forehead. His voice quivered.

"W-what? It went up again? But it was just raised two months ago..."

The patrolman gave him a cold stare.

"Yeah? What of it? No money? Then get ready to be sold off as a slave!"

The old man's face sank into despair. He clearly didn't have the extra money. Turning to the girl behind him, he forced a weak smile.

"Vivian, sweetheart... wait for Grandpa at home, alright? I'll be gone for a while, but I know people inside. I'll figure something out and come back to you soon."

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes.

"Grandpa..."

As the old man stepped forward, one of the patrolmen shoved him hard. He stumbled, but Wayne caught him before he fell.

The patrolman's eyes moved past the old man and landed on the girl.

"You? As a slave? Who'd want an old bag of bones like you? But the girl... now that's something. She'd make a fine product."

As he spoke, the man reached toward the girl.

The old man's face went pale.

"Hold it."

Wayne stepped in front of the girl, blocking her from the patrolman's grasp.

The man's expression turned hostile.

"I knew it! You are from out of town! All outsiders must be documented. Illegal entry? That's instant enslavement!"

He reached for the girl again.

Wayne moved smoothly, shielding her behind his back.

"Then take me too," he said coldly.

There was a glint of danger in his eyes. Something primal and deadly. The patrolman's pupils shrank involuntarily, but he forced himself to act tough.

"Put shackles on both of them. Take them to the holding cell first."

Wayne didn't resist. He'd changed his plan. Now, he wanted to see this so-called "Sin Tax" system and the infamous slave prison with his own eyes.

. . .

As they walked, the girl kept her head down, her cheeks streaked with tears. Her small hands clenched tightly, trembling.

Wayne, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as ever completely unfazed.

Trying to lighten her mood, he whispered, "Hey, look at this."

He opened his palm. A delicate purple butterfly flickered to life, flapping its wings softly above his skin. It shimmered with light, elegant and mesmerizing.

Curious, the girl hesitantly reached out to touch it but just before her finger landed, the butterfly vanished into thin air.

It had been formed entirely of lightning a harmless but dazzling illusion crafted from the Goro Goro no Mi's power.

Wayne smiled.

"No more tears, alright? Your big brother here is a magician. I'll show you more magic later."

The girl blinked, then chuckled through her tears.

"You're... weird. Kind, handsome... but not very smart. Don't you know we're about to be turned into slaves? And here you are, still smiling like it's nothing."

She sniffled once and added, "Oh, and my name's Vivian. I'm eighteen, okay? I just look small. So stop calling me little girl, alright?"

Wayne stared at her for a second, taken aback.

She barely stood 160 centimeters tall and looked no older than thirteen.

Another one of those petite girls who somehow turn out to be eighteen?

Gloria: Hmph! (＃￣～￣＃)

. . .

Soon, Wayne and Vivian arrived at the infamous slave prison.

It was hidden beneath a grand, luxurious auction house so lavish from the outside that no one would ever guess the filth that lay beneath.

As they descended, Wayne spoke quietly with Vivian, piecing together a clearer picture of this twisted kingdom.

Unlike the natural isolation of Wano, this country's "closed borders" were enforced by law harsh, cruel, and systematic.

Within this nation, its people were divided into three classes:

First Class: Nobles.

Nobles held absolute power. They could indulge in any vice, extract taxes at will, and even buy, beat, or kill slaves without consequence. The sky-high prices across the country were a direct result of the crushing taxes they imposed on everyone else.

Second Class: Commoners.

Commoners enjoyed limited freedom. They could run businesses, marry, and participate in some recreational activities. However, unlike nobles, they were forbidden from accessing any outside information. Their world was confined to the kingdom's borders.

This, Wayne realized, explained why no one had recognized him despite his fame as a Warlord of the Sea.

But the most chilling part?

Every commoner in this kingdom was considered guilty by default.

Unless they paid a monthly "Sin Tax," they were branded criminals.

Here's how it worked:

After giving up 90% of their income as standard tax, commoners were still required to pay an additional 500,000 to 1,000,000 Berries each month.

Pay 1,000,000, and you'd remain a commoner for another month.

Pay 500,000, and you'd be demoted to Lower Class.

And if you couldn't pay?

You'd be turned into a slave. Just like that.

Third Class: The Lower Class.

Lower Class citizens had no rights. No entertainment, no luxuries. Their only purpose was to claw their way back to commoner status through hard labor. If they couldn't do it within five months, they too would be enslaved.

Lower Class citizens were forced to wear heavy iron shackles around their ankles at all times a mark of their status. Shackles weighing over ten kilograms, worn every day.

And beneath these three classes existed a final one:

Slaves.

But in this country, slaves weren't considered people anymore. They were objects livestock.

Property.

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