The moment had finally arrived.
In the deepest, most secure core of Netra, a silent countdown reached zero. In that exact instant, a golden pulse surged through the vast network, resonating across every device, terminal, interface, and projection connected to the system. Like a heartbeat rippling outward from a digital sun, it swept through the world, illuminating every screen with a shimmering glow.
From the vast metropolises in the Blues to the isolated isles of the Grand Line, from the floating cities of the Sky Islands to the underwater domes of Fishman Island, people everywhere paused in stunned anticipation as their Netra devices activated in perfect unison. In remote villages, on pirate ships, inside royal courts and bustling markets, time seemed to freeze.
A message appeared across every screen, projected into the air before every user.
-SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT-
The World Bank is now live.
SeaTrade is now open.
Net-Coin transactions are globally operational.
A new era of commerce has begun.
Welcome to a world without borders.
—Tera
Silence gripped the world like a held breath.
Then, chaos.
"SeaTrade? What's that supposed to be?" a shipwright in Water 7 muttered, tapping his glowing screen.
"Net-Coin? You mean like... fake money?" a fish vendor in Loguetown scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Yet curiosity spread like wildfire.
Screens burst into life with reactions—confused, excited, skeptical, and intrigued. Across continents, people began poking at the system, buying strange items, trading handcrafted goods, testing if the system was real. And it was. Seamless, instant, rewarding.
A merchant in Alabasta burst out laughing as his screen updated. "What?! My spices just sold for ten times the local price?! To someone in the North Blue?! This is madness!"
A blacksmith from Wano received an offer for his katanas from a buyer in Sabaody Archipelago. A painter in Totto Land found patrons from the New World admiring her painting. A bounty hunter auctioned off a captured beast's fang, earning Net-Coin that instantly reflected in his balance.
Everywhere, people started experimenting. Farmers sold produce. Artisans sold their crafts. Hunters listed monster hides. Shipbuilders listed custom sails. Inventors uploaded schematics. Alchemists marketed rare potions. Even musicians and authors began uploading compositions and books, monetized in real-time.
Meanwhile, in the Marineford communications room...
Panels beeped and buzzed, lighting up with notifications. Marines scrambled to interpret what they were seeing.
Exotic spices from Alabasta. Cybernetic prosthetics from Karakuri Island. Healing salves from Drum Kingdom. Forbidden scrolls from Kano Country. Even cursed weapons from the Grand Line—all up for sale. Real goods. Real trade. Real impact.
Sengoku stormed into the room, eyes sharp, voice thunderous. "What the hell is going on?! Why is everyone glued to those damn tablets?!"
One officer, red-faced and panicked, saluted. "Sir! SeaTrade just went live! Vice Admiral Garp is... uh, testing it for potential security risks!"
"Testing?" Sengoku echoed. "What the hell does that—"
He didn't finish. He stormed down the corridor, fury in every step, and rounded a corner.
There sat Garp, surrounded by snack boxes like a king amidst his treasure. A donut nearly the size of his head dangled from his mouth. Rice crackers spilled from an open bag beside him. A pristine box labeled "Limited Edition Sweet Mochi – From Wano" lay atop a crate.
"You used SeaTrade already?!" Sengoku roared.
Garp looked up, eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store. "Mmm-hmm! Got all this for half the usual price! Instant delivery! Isn't this incredible?"
Sengoku's forehead pulsed. "This is a damn military base, not a picnic zone! You can't just sit here gorging yourself while the world burns!"
Garp blinked innocently. "Picnic? That's a great idea, actually. What if we invite Zephyr and Tsuru? A nice Marineford picnic..."
"You absolute idiot," Sengoku muttered. He smacked Garp's head, grabbed the donut, and took a massive bite.
"Hey! No fair!" Garp lunged, but Sengoku devoured the donut in two bites and emptied the rice cracker bag into his mouth.
Nearby marines stood frozen, trying not to laugh. Even in the face of technological upheaval, Marineford hadn't lost its absurdity.
Across the Red Line, at the Holy Land of Mariejois...
Humor was nowhere to be found.
In the high council chamber, the Five Elders stood amid a sea of projections. The World Map glowed with golden dots—each a live transaction. At first dozens, then hundreds, then thousands—then the numbers blurred into a storm.
A global neural network of trade, alive and unstoppable.
"This is treason," snarled Saint Shepherd Ju Peter. "Our monetary systems are being replaced. Our authority is bleeding out."
"Our control over tariffs, taxes, customs... evaporating," added Saint Topman Warcury, fists clenched.
Saint Marcus Mars paced furiously. "We can't trace Net-Coin. Can't shut down SeaTrade. Can't stop the World Bank. And worse still—we still haven't found Tera."
The room simmered with fury.
"She is the core of the system," Saturn growled. "As long as she exists, Netra cannot be dismantled. Tera's empire will grow unchecked."
"We've deployed CP0. Cipher Pol 1 through 9. Even Marine Intelligence. Still nothing."
"She moves like a ghost," muttered Warcury. "She's always one step ahead."
Just then, an aide rushed in, whispering an update.
"A new report, sirs. A kingdom previously blacklisted by us for unauthorized trade routes has begun using SeaTrade. They've openly aligned with Tera's system."
Saint Marcus Mars slammed his fist down. "How many more will join her? How long until we lose the power to punish them?"
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro—the Warrior God of Finance—spoke coldly. "We blacklisted those kingdoms to force obedience. SeaTrade renders that power meaningless. We are bleeding control."
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn's voice cut through the chamber like steel. "Then we destroy the system. Even if we must do it with our own hands."
Back on Vita Island...
Juno stood on a tall cliff, the wind tousling his white hair as his red eyes scanned the cascading data on the global Netra feed. Transaction graphs soared. New users poured in by the second. Trade lines burst into being like constellations drawn in gold. Languages, currencies, and cultures now interacted at lightspeed through Netra.
A fisherman in East Blue sold his catch to a chef in the New World. A refugee kingdom gained income by exporting handmade crafts. A crew of adventurers earned a fortune selling ancient maps.
The world had gone from fragmented islands to one connected marketplace.
Vegapunk stood beside him, stunned. His eyes raced across streams of code and data graphs, his mind struggling to keep up with the speed of it all.
"You didn't just launch a system," he said quietly. "You sparked a revolution. An economic wildfire."
Juno's lips curved into a quiet smile, his gaze burning with purpose.
"And not even the ocean can put it out."