The sea gradually calmed.
The Roger Pirates stared into the distance where the Marine Vice Admiral had vanished, a long silence settling over the deck. Frustration and anger seeped through the crew like a chill.
"We knew damn well there wasn't a Poneglyph here!" Buggy suddenly roared, slamming his dagger into the planks, eyes bloodshot.
Teeth ground all around him.
A single Marine had run rings around their entire crew. Instead of helping, they'd been forced to huddle on deck, fending off four murderous blades, barely keeping themselves alive.
"That damned Marine… pulling a stunt like that…"
"Let me see him again…"
"Bastard…"
Curses erupted.
"We're the Roger Pirates! We set sail for freedom and dreams! When have we ever been humiliated like this?"
"Uh… often," Buggy muttered, clutching his head.
The crew: …
They reviewed their recent "glories" in sullen silence: hounded across the Grand Line by Vice Admiral Garp… nearly broken by the Golden Lion at Edd War… the ship almost smashed to pieces on Fish-Man Island… and just now—
Well. Maybe the clown had a point.
They all grimaced and found nothing to say.
Damn it.
"Hahaha! You're all safe! That's great!"
Roger, bruised and battered, strode out of the jungle, laughing as if nothing in the world could trouble him. He flashed a thumbs-up at Rayleigh and the others, grinning wide.
"Just what I expect from my crew! You knew I wanted a fair fight with that Darren guy, so you stayed on the ship, right? Well done! Hahahaha!"
"..." The crew stared at their idiot captain's swollen, purpled face, black lines of exasperation forming on their foreheads.
They inhaled deeply, fighting down the urge to explode.
Rayleigh's eyelid twitched as he clutched his chest.
As if we stayed on the ship on purpose!
We wanted to help too!
But those four swords were glaring at us—we couldn't even step off the deck!
Enamel-grinding filled the air.
Seeing their gloomy expressions, Roger took it for disappointment at missing the fun. He chuckled, "Hey, don't look so down! There'll be plenty of chances to join the action. If things get desperate, we can always go pick a fight with Garp again."
The crew stared at him in dead silence.
"Hahaha… Oh, right, I didn't find the Poneglyph…" Roger scratched his head, then brightened like a man who'd struck gold. "But look what I did find!"
He turned, eyes sparkling, and dragged something out of the trees.
Gasp!
Faces went white as the crew recognized what he hauled. A collective intake of breath swept the deck.
"T-that's…"
"That outfit… if I remember right…"
"Oh my God…"
"What the hell…"
Everyone—even Rayleigh—stared, stunned, at the grotesque thing Roger had hauled out.
"A Celestial Dragon?!" Buggy squealed, face bleaching as he recoiled like a kicked caterpillar.
"Hahaha, you're right! Looks like this guy was one of them," Roger said, flashing his pearly grin.
Their captain's breezy tone sent a shiver through the crew. Panic spiked.
"Captain Roger, drop it! Now!"
"We have to get rid of the body!"
"Throw it in the sea! Or bury it!"
"Damn it! We need to run!"
"What happened?!"
"We can't let the Marines or the Government see this!"
Voices wavered, cracked, and rose to a ragged chorus.
Then—
"Roger! What the hell is that in your hand?!"
A thunderous voice rolled across the water like distant storm surf.
Recognition hit like lightning.
Color drained from every face. Buggy's teeth chattered as he turned stiffly toward the sound.
"G-Garp…"
Out on the waves, a Dog-Headed Battleship cut toward them, radiating raw menace.
A tall, muscled figure stood at the prow, arms crossed, eyes bulging as he stared at the corpse in Roger's grip. "You… you actually killed a Celestial Dragon?!"
"Garp!" Roger's eyes lit up.
"Deny it!"
"Put it down!"
"That wasn't you!"
Buggy and the others flailed their arms, faces flushed an unhealthy, pork-liver red.
"This?" Roger looked at the body in his hands, then at the blood on his clothes. It all pointed neatly at him. "Well, this isn't exactly—"
Before he could finish, Garp burst into booming laughter.
"Well done!" he roared. "Worthy of you, Roger! Bwahahaha!"
Roger: ???
The Roger Pirates: ???
Hundreds of Marines: ???
Jaws hit decks across the battleship. The Marines stared, stunned—and then, as one, flicked their eyes to Adjutant Bogard.
Bogard had already turned away, hands clamped over his ears.
A collective shudder rippled down the ranks as the rest hastily followed suit.
"I've always hated that pack of garbage!" Garp sneered at the corpse, digging in his nose with majestic disdain. "If it wasn't for my position, I'd have wiped them out long ago! Bwahaha!"
Roger blinked… then planted his hands on his hips, hoisted the body high, and bellowed with laughter.
"Hahahaha! That's right! I killed him!"
"What do you say now, Garp? Admit defeat?!"
He puffed out his chest, nostrils flaring, nose hairs quivering with pride.
"I did something even you wouldn't dare! Hahahaha!"
Thud!
The entire crew dropped as one, limbs splayed.
Faces blazing with secondhand shame, they itched to rip the idiotic grin off their captain's face.
What's there to be proud of?!
Those were Celestial Dragons—the World Nobles! Killing one would bring down trouble beyond imagining.
Rayleigh rubbed his forehead and perched on the rail, sighing.
"Oh well, it's not the first time."
Back at God Valley, Roger had—unwittingly—"killed a few by mistake."
Most of the newer members had no idea about that particular chapter.
Gaban let out a thin laugh, twin axes knocking together with a cold ring.
"Prepare for battle."
To be continued...