This novel is finished, and I have posted all the advanced chapters on my Patreon https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
The Hero Cemetery at Marine Headquarters was a sacred, almost undisturbed ground, situated quietly between the massive Headquarters Fortress and the "Rooster-Head" officers' residential district. Only the most revered place of worship, the Ox Bell, held more significance for the Marines.
The dying light of the setting sun slanted through the trees, casting long shadows across the rows of headstones. The deepening colors lent the cemetery an air of stark, profound desolation.
Standing before one particular grave, Dragon, draped in the stark white suit and cloak of a CP0 agent, shoved his signature mask up onto his forehead and stood in silent contemplation.
After a long, weighted silence, he spoke.
"If the old man hadn't intervened that day, would you still have killed him?"
Rowen was unsurprised that Dragon knew the truth about that fateful confrontation. The Gold Emperor commanded wealth sufficient to shake the entire world, and the fear he inspired extended far beyond the World Government, touching even the Revolutionary Army. While the Government would never dare convict Rowen without concrete evidence, Dragon was different. Using fragmented information and, more importantly, his deep, instinctual understanding of Garp, he had bypassed the clues and leaped straight to the answer.
Rowen didn't bother to deny it. He shook his head.
"Of course not." He then allowed a brief, sharp grin to surface. "You should know me well enough by now, shouldn't you?"
"I've never harbored personal hostility toward anyone. It's just that anyone who blocks the path I've chosen… dies."
"Including the current Im?" Dragon pressed, his voice low.
"Yes." Rowen quietly lit a cigar. "I've said it before, this world doesn't need a God. He's simply… in the way."
Dragon nodded slightly at the confirmation.
"That's right. God… is always in the way."
He then lowered his mask, placed a small bouquet of white flowers before Garp's tombstone, and turned away.
"At least, judging by the results of his final actions… the old man wasn't wrong about you."
He didn't finish the thought lingering after, "Unlike me..." Instead, he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and strode away without another word.
Rowen watched him go, making no move to stop him or ask questions.
If even he was hunted so viciously just for challenging the Government, what horrors must the "old bastard" have committed when Dragon defected from the Marines all those years ago? It was a matter between father and son, however, not his to interfere with.
Rowen let out a short, cynical laugh and shook his head.
"If only he had been wrong…"
Shua!
With a twist of his wrist, a paper bag of freshly made donuts appeared in his hand. He placed it carefully before the silent tombstone. Narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked out toward the distant sea, he murmured:
"If only you hadn't dragged me into the Marines back then…" "If only you had stopped Dragon… so Sengoku wouldn't be so terrified of me…" "If only all of you had stepped forward, taken responsibility, and changed everything yourselves…"
His jaw clenched.
"You old bastard…"
Thud!
Rowen stomped his foot down, shattering the concrete offering platform beside Garp's tombstone. He gritted his teeth, his voice a low, furious growl.
"This is your Justice?! Looking on while the Celestial Dragons trample the innocent, turning a blind eye! Guarding your tiny Marine plot of land and entertaining yourself with the farce!"
"The man who once chased Roger across the seas, who dared to charge the Rocks Pirates alone… where in hell did that man go?!"
The tombstone remained silent.
Garp did not climb out of his coffin to knock sense into the audacious brat.
Rowen took a slow, deliberate breath and lifted his foot from the debris.
"...Since you won't do it, I'll do it myself."
He turned sharply, leaving the crushed donuts and the shattered platform behind, and walked off with long, determined strides.
Not far from the cemetery, hidden behind a large, decorative green tree, Sengoku sat cross-legged, leaning against the trunk. His aged, cloudy eyes stared blankly up at the darkening sky as he whispered to the fading light.
"Yes… where did the 'us' of back then go?"
An Era could forge the brilliant deeds of a generation, but it could also crush them entirely. It wasn't a matter of right or wrong; in such monumental conflicts, the concepts were often meaningless.
Headquarters Fortress , "Rooster-Head" Officers' Villa District.
Rowen walked slowly back to his residence. The sun was long gone, and the clean cobblestone streets were bathed in a soft, quiet moonlight.
"Someone's home?"
He looked up and noticed a light glowing in the windows of his house. At this hour, Sensei should be asleep. So then...
"You're back."
As he pushed the door open, Ain stepped out from the hallway, alerted by the sound.
"I heard you went straight to the cemetery after the meeting, so I prepared some food."
The dishes on the dining table were simple but clearly prepared with great care, all the things he particularly liked. Rowen was momentarily stunned. So this was the feeling people called coming home...
A gentle lamp. A table of warm food. A woman.
All waiting for his return.
He walked silently into the house. While Ain gently scooped rice into his bowl, he took a cardboard box from under his arm.
"This is my Admiral shoulder insignia and cloak. If I don't formally resign, no one dares ask for it back. I might as well leave it here… as a keepsake."
Ain froze for a moment, then nodded. She took the box, walked to the coat rack, shook out the heavy fabric of the white cloak, and carefully hung it up.
Watching her quietly perform these small, domestic duties, Rowen felt the weight of his debt to her. Due to his own complicated feelings and mission, he had always maintained a distant façade for their relationship. Yet, Ain wasn't the type to demand dramatic, fiery love; she simply waited in quiet dedication. They had never announced a formal relationship, but they already possessed the unspoken, natural understanding of an old married couple.
"When did I… become so sentimental?" Rowen mused silently.
"This will be the last battle, Ain… senior sister."
By the coat rack, Ain's hand trembled faintly.
"For the next few decades, as long as I survive, there won't be any major chaos like this again. By then, the Global Village Plan will have taken root. Whether I live or die won't matter to the world anymore."
Rowen paused, looking up from his meal. "By the way, senior sister, where is your hometown?"
"North Blue. Our ancestors were driven out by Germa back then with nowhere to go, so they came to the Grand Line."
"Germa, huh… I heard they've already declared war on the North Blue royal families. I should hurry them along a bit." Rowen lifted his head, his gaze settling on her. "After this war ends, we'll go to your hometown and get married. How about that?"
Everyone knew Rowen had no true "hometown" in these seas; even the Sky Island of Birka had long since vanished.
Hearing his proposal, Ain didn't turn around, but she bowed her head slightly. Her shoulders were trembling.
"…Okay!"
Hearing the answer, tinged with the sound of suppressed tears, Rowen didn't press the topic and lowered his head to continue eating.
In that moment, he finally understood the source of his earlier sentimentality.
He was afraid, too.
This truly was the final battle, a fight that concerned the fate of the entire world. If they failed, countless people would die.
If they succeeded… countless people would still die.
Death loomed either way. He might as well set a 'flag' now, a promise to cling to later.
"Ah… I really shouldn't have said something like 'we'll go to your hometown and get married.'"
"But if I feel this pressure, the others must be the same… I need to be careful."
After indulging his fear for a moment, Rowen's sharp, calculating mind immediately snapped back into focus.
"Report!"
A knock sounded at the courtyard gate. Rowen frowned slightly and spoke.
"What is it?"
A Marine messenger stood outside. He flinched at the voice sounding directly by his ear, then quickly saluted.
"Lord Soryu (Azure Dragon))… sir, the Fleet Admiral sent me to inform you: someone in Impel Down is requesting a meeting with you."
"Oh?" Rowen set down his bowl and chopsticks, intrigued. "Who is it?"
"A thousand apologies, sir. I am not authorized to know!"
If even a messenger wasn't allowed to know the name, it had to be a prisoner from Impel Down's Level 6. And for Akainu to send the message at this critical time…
Rowen immediately understood the gravity of the request.
"Mm. Understood. You may return."
"Yes, sir!"
After the messenger hurried away, Rowen was about to speak, but Ain had already opened the inner door for him.
He didn't immediately step outside. Instead, he walked toward her, pulled her tightly into his arms, and greedily inhaled the faint, familiar fragrance of her hair.
"Wait for me." Rowen whispered softly.
"Mm…" Ain leaned into his embrace, her breath catching as she whispered her response.
(End of this chapter.)