Pirate: I who have the power of the black emperor will eventually become the king

A light lit up in the darkness, and the pain in his whole body awakened him.

He couldn't open his eyes and didn't know where it was.

There is a mess in the head, memories ....

Ah——! Who am I!

Bang!

There was a sharp cramping in his abdomen, and the pain from the heavy blow caused his body to shrink into a ball.

The scalding memory burned like a red-hot iron needle inserted into his brain.

The pain stimulated his nerves, and his hands clung to his head, constantly contracting, trying to grasp the pain with the strength of his hands and prevent him from going deeper.

He couldn't perceive the situation outside, and his mind was in chaos.

A large number of memories that do not belong to them pour in.

When all the memories poured in, he did not comb through them, and his mind was completely deranged.

Only vaguely seemed to hear, "Don't fight again, if you fight again, he may die." After

a long time, the brains stopped rolling.

The memory is straightened little by little.

"Who am I?"

He asked himself, and his blank brain couldn't answer for a while.

After a moment of silence, he muttered,

"I'm Sebastian Scoundrel!"

He opened his eyes, his vision blurred, and the only light came from the oil lamp on the black wall.

The scourge reached out to wipe his eyes, and the surroundings were still blurry, only two or three lights flickered in the blur, and there were black shadows moving.

The intense feeling of vertigo made him want to vomit.

What the hell happened to me?

His vision gradually became clearer, and he also saw his environment, there was a layer of foul-smelling, turbid stagnant water on the ground, and the smell of decaying straw mixed with the smell filled his nose.

I wanted to get up, but I found that my limbs were all disobedient at the moment, as if I had exhausted my strength after just a few movements.

He calmed down, and the memories reminded him of everything.

The memories that did not belong to him told him that the world he was in was called One Piece.

He knew Roger, Whitebeard, Golden Lion.

As if introducing himself, he scraped his memory.

Sebastian Qiao, who is 23 years old this year, was born in a kingdom called Calette Hill at the very beginning

of the paradise, and grew up eating a hundred meals, so he has an infinite love for the hometown of life.

But Carethill is not an allegiate.

Not blessed by the world government.

Pirates plunder this place infinitely, you know, this place is on the great channel, and it is still at the entrance position, many pirates will come here to plunder.

From an early age, his ideal changed the status quo of the country, so that the people here could live a stable life, and everyone could eat every day.

Being in a poor country made him think that with enough money, he could make a difference.

He decided to devote himself to business.

His factory gave jobs to the people of Calette Hill and bought large quantities of supplies from other countries to keep the country running.

At the same time, he spends a lot of money to hire a large number of tough bounty hunters to station here.

The country gradually gained some stability.

He was revered as a hero.

Thinking of this, a trace of pride arose in his heart, but it was shattered by the memory of the conflict in an instant, and the memories of those two people did not agree with this pride at all, and they even felt that this was stupidity.

His expression was slightly ugly, stupid should be insulting words,

"Am I a fool?"

Consciousness pulls, and the mind is like a debate conference.

Why am I here?

There was a feeling of nausea in his chest, and a dry gag against the ground.

Neither did he do the same in the face of foul-smelling sewage.

But now, it's like that.

A week earlier, the king had summoned him to the palace and told him that an honorable guest would be coming and that he would go back and prepare.

Five days ago, a luxurious ship arrived.

The king made them kneel on the ground.

At first, he was reluctant, but when he saw that it was Draco, his heart was full of shock.

How could Draco come to this dirty little country?

Just as he was wondering, he was pushed out.

He turned around, and he saw a familiar figure, a bounty hunter he spent a lot of money to support.

Just when he was overwhelmed, a tall figure stood in front of him, and a knife was across his neck.

He was caught.

Charge: Crashing into Draco!

For the next five days, he did not eat anything and was beaten daily.

His mental trance.

At this moment, his heart was desperate.

Colliding with Draco, whether he can survive depends on the mood of Draco, and the probability is that he will die.

The most uncomfortable thing is the death of the heart,

and what pushes him out is the bounty hunter he paid a lot of money to bring over and support.

The king, the nobles, and even the people around him, the abnormal behavior before the incident made him feel an unusual feeling in his heart.

It's just that he didn't pay attention at the time.

He did not expect that the country he was dedicated to saving would have so many people who would harm him.

He laughed at himself in his heart, I don't understand anything but business.

It's really....

I'm such a fool.

Kill them!

No, no, no, this is not my idea, how could such an idea suddenly come up, I obviously did not think of it yet.

It's just not thought yet, he just told me in advance that

I wanted to kill them, he told me!

Kill them all!

The whisper inwardly, speaking faster and faster.

The pupils are covered with bloodshots.

The feeling of headache came up again, suddenly, he let out two icy laughs

, now he is different, he fuses two memories from different worlds, Daigo empowerment, temperament also changes with the absorption of memories.

Yin cold and domineering tyranny, the eyes seem to contain magic, needles and needles, people can not look directly.

Standing outside at this moment, no one would find out that he was just a shrewd, simple and kind businessman before.

Sebastian Shaw gave him a leadership aura, domineering, calmness, strategic skills and combat skills, and another... What's his name? Don't have a name?

Why memories are so scary.

Kill, kill, kill... Always killing, in his memory, his hands will always be blood-red.

The tyranny and disregard for life that brings, and

the coldness that reveles from the depths of the soul.

The corners of his mouth tugged, and when he didn't pay attention to himself, a hideous and terrifying bloodthirsty smile appeared on his face.

The clarity in his mind instantly recovered, and the ferocity from the heart actually startled him.

Right now.

He felt a slight itch all over his body.

When the memory in his mind digested a certain fragment, a tingling pain came from all over his body,

causing him to let out a scream.

The body twitches and changes from lying on its side to lying down.

He moved his body with the muscles of his back, his head against the wall, and pushed himself up with all his strength.

Leaning against the wall, slowly move upwards so that your body can lean against the wall and change to a comfortable position.

"'Black Emperor' Sebastian Shaw....

Absorb all forms of energy and convert it into your own energy with unleashing absorbed energy or improving your strength, speed and endurance through energy.

Self-healing factors, age reversal, and even secondary mutations.

Goldfinger, this is my ability. "

The scourge is constantly combing through the memory.

He also easily felt the strength of this force, armed with a sharp weapon, and the killing intent arose, and

he had the idea of destroying everything in his heart at this moment.

He had realized that he had always been wrong, that those memories had told him that

I was a fool before.

If you want to change this country, money is useless, decay comes from the bones, and only strong forces can completely deal with them and solve the problem at the root can change the pattern.

It's not too late yet.

Although angry at what the king, nobles and bounty hunters had done, there was still a remnant of gratitude to the people of his homeland and those who provided for him.

The scope of his kindness has shrunk to his home town.

"As long as I have this power, I can live!" At the very least, those people must still support me. "

There was a bit of luck in his heart.

He was like a drowning man grasping for a life-saving straw, the last silk thread on the taut and torn rope in his head.

That root belongs to the emotions of this world for this country and its people.