Onepiece: I'm Aizen Sosuke

A small, unmarked boat glided into the treacherous waters of the New World, its singular white sail a striking anomaly amidst the sea of pirate ships. Each vessel bore the unmistakable symbols of death and piracy—massive skulls emblazoned on their sails, a bold declaration of the chaos reigning on this infamous island.

This was **Sin City**, a haven for pirates, a graveyard for the weak, and a sanctuary for the lawless.

Aizen stood calmly at the bow, his immaculate white robes untouched by the salty sea breeze. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the island ahead. The chaos was palpable even from a distance. Unlike other ports, which harbored a mix of merchant ships, fishing vessels, and the occasional pirate craft, Sin City was a singular display of pirate domination.

As his boat docked, Aizen stepped onto the weathered pier. His composed demeanor drew curious glances from the pirates milling about. Whispers followed in his wake—an outsider dressed in pristine white with no markings or crew to his name was an odd sight in this den of infamy.

Before long, a middle-aged man approached him. The man's practiced smile didn't reach his eyes, and the group of provocatively dressed women trailing behind him did little to mask the predator lurking beneath his genial facade.

"Welcome to Sin City, my friend!" the man began, his tone ingratiating. "The name's Nimitz. You must be new here—your attire and demeanor make that much clear. I could guide you around, help you avoid... misunderstandings. Sin City can be unforgiving to newcomers who don't know the rules."

Aizen's gaze shifted to the man, his expression betraying nothing. "Oh?" he replied, his tone measured, carrying a faint hint of amusement.

Nimitz nodded eagerly. "Indeed! For a modest price, I can offer guidance—and more. My establishment offers a range of comforts, and I can provide information for the right price." His practiced smile widened.

Aizen didn't respond immediately, letting the man's words hang in the air. His sharp instincts had already picked up the subtle signs—the nervous flicker of Nimitz's eyes, the restless shuffling of the women beside him, and the faint sound of approaching footsteps from the shadows.

"Very well," Aizen said finally, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Lead the way."

The group moved toward a dimly lit, nondescript building. Despite its unassuming exterior, the interior was surprisingly clean and orderly. Women bustled about, tidying the space and offering coy smiles to the new guest.

"Now, my friend," Nimitz said, his voice slick with feigned politeness, "this establishment has everything you might need. A night's stay is 10,000 Berries, and I can provide valuable information for an additional 200,000 Berries. A small price to pay for safety and knowledge in a place like this, don't you agree?"

Aizen's smile remained as he observed the man. His keen perception noted the subtle tension in the room—the hidden glances exchanged between Nimitz and his workers, the muffled movements of the twenty or so men who had begun converging on the building.

"They're not subtle," Aizen mused inwardly.

"Although," Nimitz continued, oblivious to the storm brewing behind Aizen's calm exterior, "you might find the ladies here a... pleasant distraction. Surely a man of your stature could use some relaxation."

Aizen chuckled softly, the sound low and unnerving. "While I have no particular objections to spending Berries, I value something far more important—efficiency."

Before Nimitz could respond, the door burst open, and over twenty rough-looking pirates stormed in. Their leader sneered, a crude blade resting on his shoulder.

"Well, well," the man drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Seems like our guest here forgot to leave a donation for the welcoming committee."

Aizen turned slowly, his expression unchanging. His sharp, calculating gaze swept over the group, and for a brief moment, silence filled the room.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Aizen adjusted his glasses. "You should have stayed in the shadows," he said softly.

Before the pirates could react, Aizen vanished. A split second later, chaos erupted.

Blades clattered to the floor as Aizen's blade sliced through the air with precision and grace. In the blink of an eye, half the group was incapacitated, their groans echoing in the room. The remaining pirates froze, fear replacing their bravado.

Nimitz stumbled backward, his facade crumbling. "W-wait! We didn't mean—"

Aizen's gaze locked onto him, cold and unyielding. "You should choose your prey more wisely," he said, his voice as smooth as silk.

In an instant, Nimitz and the remaining pirates fled, leaving Aizen alone in the now-silent room.

With a faint sigh, Aizen adjusted his white robes and turned to leave. His mission wasn't to waste time with small fry, but to use them as tools. Information about World Destroyer Waldo and the other pirates he sought would flow soon enough.

As he stepped outside, the wind carried away the faint smell of blood. The chaos of Sin City churned on, but within the shadows, whispers began to spread.

A newcomer had arrived—a man in white, whose presence was like a silent storm. Aizen's legend had taken its first step into the heart of Sin City.