Chapter 18: The Nun's Death
"Everyone, do you like my gifts?" The nun smiled warmly, her cigarette dangling from her lips as she looked at the children gathered before her.
"I like it!" they all cheered in unison, their laughter echoing across the field. Yet their eyes betrayed a hint of envy as they peeked at the large package in Roy's hands.
Tch, they thought collectively. That guy's too greedy.
"Since you're all so happy," the nun said with a grin, taking a long drag from her cigarette, "how about a song?"
"Binx's Sake!" the children shouted excitedly.
Roy chuckled softly, joining in. He found it ironically fitting—a group of children who were destined to be sold to the World Government as future Marines and Cipher Pol agents… now joyfully singing a pirate's song.
If those CP0 officials who paid for them could see this, they'd probably choke on their cigars.
"Ah~ So this is a pirate's song," the nun said, feigning surprise.
"That's right! We're going to be pirates someday!" the long-handed boy declared proudly, slinging an arm over Roy's shoulder.
"Yeah! We'll form a great pirate crew—with Captain Roy leading us—and accept everyone from every race!" shouted the little fish-man boy, his finned arms waving with excitement.
"Yeah, we'll all follow Boss Roy!" the timid mink child added in a small voice, smiling up at him.
"Baka baka! Roy's coming with me to restore my kingdom!" yelled the impoverished young prince, glaring at them. "Don't make decisions for others, you idiots!"
Bonk!
Roy flicked the prince sharply on the head. "Don't make decisions for me either, you moron."
"Ahh—oww!" The prince grabbed his head, tears welling in his eyes. A small bump was already forming. For someone his size, Roy didn't know his own strength.
"And you," Roy said, turning toward the small mink child. He smiled and ruffled his soft hair. "Stop following every idea you hear, all right?"
Roy leaned back and looked at them—their laughter, their dreams, their innocence.
His own dream was simple, if a little dangerous. He wanted a ship of his own, large enough to carry people who could understand one another. Beautiful women, good food, loyal companions… a peaceful voyage across the endless sea.
Perhaps impossible. But people needed dreams to keep moving forward.
The road to becoming a true king of the sea was long. And he had only just begun.
---
Under the bright blue sky and among the green mountains, the children's voices rose in chorus.
Their young, clear voices carried far through the forest, harmonizing to the tune of Binx's Sake. They stood arm in arm, grinning brightly, circling around Roy—their "captain"—as the nun smiled faintly from a distance, pretending to be gentle and kind.
That simple, joyful song echoed through the hills. None of them knew it would be the last time it was ever sung here—at this quiet orphanage hidden in the mountains.
Years later, this island would no longer hold the laughter of children or the melody of that song. Only silence would remain.
Linlin sang with the others, her voice bright and powerful. She looked at Roy, her eyes full of admiration. She envied how easily he bonded with everyone. But then she smiled to herself.
If Roy's friends were happy, then her friends were happy.
She didn't realize then that the tragedy that would soon follow… would begin with her.
---
"I'll send you off with Binx's Sake, across the wind and waves you'll go~"
"The waves swell, the sunset glows, and birds sing through the skies~"
Time slipped by. February arrived quietly. The memory of that song still lingered faintly in Roy's ears, carried by the wind.
Each day passed peacefully. The children played, laughed, and quarreled as always. Linlin spent her days eating and giggling with her friends, her booming laughter echoing across the hills.
"Ahhh! Linlin's going to crush me again!" cried the long-hand boy as the others laughed and scattered, teasing her in good fun.
The warm afternoon breeze ruffled Roy's red hair as he sat beneath a tree. Pandora floated beside him, serving—unwillingly—as a pillow. Roy leaned back against him, flipping through a thick book on navigation.
Pandora pouted, his small sun-like face scrunching up in irritation as Roy adjusted him again. "You're heavy…" he grumbled.
"Quiet," Roy murmured lazily. "You make a better cushion than you do a torch."
After lunch, while the others napped, Roy stayed awake. Sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, he rested his sword across his lap and opened a thick volume—The Collection of Famous Swords.
Page by page, he scanned through every entry. Legendary blades, cursed sabers, ancient relics of steel—all meticulously cataloged. But no matter how carefully he searched, he couldn't find his own sword.
He sighed, closing the book with a faint thud. "Hmph. Not recorded anywhere, huh?"
Perhaps the collection was incomplete. Or perhaps this sword was something new entirely—one that history hadn't yet learned to name.
In the world of One Piece, it was impossible not to be fascinated by famous swords.
Roy often imagined what it would be like to wield one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades, or even a Great Grade Sword among the Twenty-One, or at least a Good Grade Blade of the Fifty.
Having a few of those would be nice.
"Roy, aren't you going to sleep?" The nun's voice came softly from the doorway.
"I can't sleep," Roy replied with a grin. "Tomorrow's my birthday party, after all. I'm too excited."
February 14th—his fake birthday.
Roy remembered the broad strokes of the story's events, but he still had to carefully piece together smaller details. Birthdays, personalities, habits… even for someone like him, it wasn't easy to recall everything.
Coincidentally, the date he made up for himself was one day before Linlin's real birthday.
Roy couldn't help but feel uneasy. He strongly suspected that on his birthday tomorrow, Linlin would lose control and kill the nun ahead of schedule.
"Really?" The nun smiled kindly. "Then I'll go prepare for your celebration. You should get some rest and be ready for tomorrow, alright?"
"Of course, Sister." Roy smiled back politely.
The nun closed the door behind her and walked into the living room. Sitting alone at the long, empty dining table, she began stuffing her savings into a small leather package.
The World Government would be coming to collect their "goods" on February 15th.
She planned to celebrate Roy's birthday first, then—on Linlin's birthday the following day—deliver them both to the Government as her grand "gift."
Humming softly, she slid stacks of Berries into her bag. The thought of a peaceful retirement on a distant island filled her with glee. Her smile widened, twisting into something almost grotesque.
"Just a little longer," she murmured, puffing on her cigarette. "A little longer and I'll be free."
Up on the ceiling beam, a squirrel gnawed on a nut, its tiny black eyes staring down at the old woman chuckling to herself in the candlelight.
At the corner of the hall, a shadow shifted.
Roy stood silently, watching her pack the money. After memorizing the amount and the location, he quietly slipped back into his room.
Time passed quickly. It was almost time to say goodbye.
He glanced at the sleeping children, their innocent faces soft in the moonlight, and sighed inwardly.
If he was going to make use of the nun's "savings," then he might as well save as many of these children as he could.
---
The next morning, Roy's prediction turned out to be wrong.
What he didn't expect was that the nun had prepared only a small, modest cake for his "birthday." Each child received a single thin slice—and that was it.
The nun leaned close to him and whispered apologetically, "I'm sorry, dear. I spent most of the money preparing the Samla for Linlin's birthday tomorrow."
Roy blinked, suppressing a sigh.
Then she handed him a small gift box wrapped neatly in red paper. "And this is your present."
Roy opened it—and found an empty shell.
"This is a sound shell from Sky Island," the nun said, smiling gently. "I bought it at a high price. It can record music. Why don't we use it to record our happiest songs together?"
Roy raised an eyebrow, examining the shell. "Huh. Not bad."
For all her deceit, this gift wasn't worthless. Going to Sky Island was no easy task, after all.
As the children sang and laughed, the sound shell captured their voices—those innocent, joyful tones filling the orphanage with life.
Roy smiled faintly. "Heh. Guess you escaped death… for now, Sister."
---
The next day came—February 15th. Linlin's birthday.
On the grassy lawn, several logs had been set up as makeshift seats, and a large wooden table stood in the middle, draped in a bright pink cloth that hid something beneath it.
The air was filled with excitement.
A chubby boy wearing black sunglasses, a cockscomb hairstyle, and a ridiculous purple cape came strutting over with Linlin. He led her to the center seat with an exaggerated bow.
Roy and the boy stood on either side of the table, each gripping the edge of the cloth.
"One…" Roy counted.
"Two~!"
They pulled.
The pink cloth flew into the air—revealing a mountain of Samla piled high on a massive silver platter.
"Linlin, happy birthday!" Roy said with a grin.
Linlin's eyes lit up instantly.
Behind him, the nun walked forward slowly, her smile returning—cold and knowing—as she looked upon the feast.
Just as Roy expected, Linlin's gaze had already begun to darken, her breath quickening.
Carmel's time was running out.
You escaped February 14th… but not February 15th, Roy thought silently, watching her from the corner of his eye.
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