Waves rolled upon waves, ripples spreading across the endless sea.
Upon that vast blue expanse, the Oro Jackson cut through the waters, leaving a long white wake behind it.
On deck, the Roger Pirates had gathered together, tables laden with food and barrels of fine wine. Cups clinked, laughter echoed, and shoulders pressed together as the men sang at the top of their lungs. The revelry of pirates transformed the quiet sea into a raucous celebration.
This was a pirate's feast.
"Captain Roger, this time we've obtained the Road Poneglyph from Zou—added to the one we found at Fishman Island," said Rangram, raising his cup in excitement.
"That makes two Road Poneglyphs we already have. Just two more, and we can finally reach the last island!"
"Congratulations, Captain!"
"Wahahaha!" Roger laughed, clinking bottles with Rangram before taking a long swig.
"It's still too early for congratulations," he said, wiping his mouth. "When Linlin left the Rocks Pirates years ago, she took Rocks' Poneglyph with her. I managed to steal a rubbing, but seawater ruined part of it."
"This time, I plan to have Oden translate it himself."
"But snatching something from Linlin's hands… that won't be easy!"
Roger's laughter boomed across the deck once more, but even as the others cheered, there was a weight behind his smile. His men were overjoyed, yet Roger's own spirit seemed subdued—only rousing when others toasted him.
"What's wrong, Roger?"
Silvers Rayleigh, sitting beside him, noticed at once. Rayleigh was Roger's very first crewmate; to everyone else he was "Captain Roger," but to Rayleigh, he was simply "Roger."
"The locations of the remaining two Road Poneglyphs—we've already tracked them down," Roger murmured. "One's with Linlin, the other's in Oden's homeland… Wano."
He paused, his eyes reflecting the starlight on the sea.
"But there's something that's been bothering me."
"Oden told me the Poneglyphs were created by his ancestors—the Kozuki clan of Wano. Indestructible stone monuments… there are two kinds.
"One type marks routes, guiding the way to the final island—the red ones, the Road Poneglyphs."
"The other type records the world's lost history—the Information Poneglyphs. There are twenty-six of those."
"I've already collected eighteen of them. What I want is to uncover the truth of that blank century the World Government erased."
"There's a secret there—a colossal secret. Only by gathering them all can we uncover what the Government tried to bury."
He exhaled deeply. "But… the remaining eight Poneglyphs are still missing.
Time is running out, Rayleigh."
There was a quiet gravity between the two. Rayleigh knew why Roger's words carried such urgency.
Roger's illness—the one no doctor could cure—was slowly eating away at him. His days were numbered. Before death came, he longed to see it all: the final island, the truth of the world, and the mysteries buried by time itself.
He'd already sailed around the globe. Only one destination remained—the Final Island.
And the erased century… the glimpse he'd caught of that history had already shaken him to the core.
Even the man who'd seen everything this sea had to offer felt his heart tremble before that hidden truth.
"Don't think too much, Roger."
Rayleigh's voice was calm, steady. "Focus on what's ahead. We'll find the rest in due time—maybe the more we move, the more clues will turn up."
Roger was silent for a while, then chuckled softly.
Just then, a lively voice piped up nearby.
"Captain Roger! Why the long face?"
A boy—around twelve or thirteen, with a bright red nose—bounded forward, juggling five apples in his hands.
"Let me show you a trick! You'll cheer right up!"
Without waiting for a reply, Buggy began tossing the apples in the air, forming a clumsy circle.
"Idiot Buggy!" another voice yelled, and a red-haired boy shot out from behind him—Shanks—kicking Buggy squarely on the rear.
Caught off guard, Buggy sprawled face-first onto the deck, the apples bouncing off his head one by one before rolling away.
Roger blinked in surprise—then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Oi, Buggy! You're bleeding from the nose!"
"Wahahahahaha!"
"Shanks, you bastard!" Buggy shouted, leaping to his feet, face red with fury. "I'll kill you for that!"
Shanks only laughed, darting away across the deck.
"Too slow, Buggy! You'll never catch me like that!"
Their chase sent the rest of the crew into fits of laughter, and soon the entire ship was roaring with mirth again.
Even Roger, swept up by the joyous chaos, forgot his worries for a time and joined in the merriment.
But amid the laughter, Roger and Rayleigh suddenly froze.
Both turned their heads toward the horizon—something, some presence, had stirred the air.
They met each other's eyes, the same realization flashing between them.
Roger stood slowly, his grin returning.
"Well, well… an old friend's come calling."
He stepped forward to the bow, gazing out over the glittering water. "And just in time—we were just in the middle of a feast!"
The rest of the crew, curious, followed suit. Buggy and Shanks crowded to the front.
"Captain, what are you looking at?"
For a moment, there was nothing but the empty ocean. Then—
A single mast rose from the waves.
Moments later, a Marine flag broke through the mist.
"Marines!!!"
Both Shanks and Buggy shouted in unison when they saw the distant flag fluttering against the sea breeze.
Moments later, a massive dog-headed warship emerged from the horizon—its prow carved into the shape of a snarling hound.
Shanks' and Buggy's eyes went wide.
"That's Vice Admiral Garp's ship—the Hero of the Marines!"
Every man aboard the Oro Jackson knew that name. Monkey D. Garp, the Marine Hero. The Roger Pirates had clashed with him dozens of times already—each battle fierce, each escape a miracle.
The two young apprentices had a particularly deep impression of the man, for one simple reason—he scared them half to death every time.
"WMMM!!!"
Suddenly, Roger's eyes narrowed, and an overwhelming pressure erupted from his body, surging across the sea toward the Marine warship.
Conqueror's Haki.
The tranquil ocean heaved violently under the weight of his will.
On the warship's deck, Garp stood at the prow, arms crossed. Behind him were Aokiji, Bogard, and Yoriichi Tsugikuni, all staring solemnly at the distant pirate ship.
Without warning, a monstrous wave of killing intent slammed into them—so dense it felt tangible. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating.
"Crack."
The wooden railing at the ship's bow split open with fine fissures.
Up in the crow's nest, the lookouts dropped like flies, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed under the sheer pressure. The same scene unfolded below in the engine room—the entire ship grinding to a halt mid-voyage.
Roger's Haki had reached them—over a full kilometer away—and still struck with crushing force.
At the front, Yoriichi bent slightly, one hand gripping the hilt of his blade. His body trembled—not from fear, but from instinct. He looked like a beast ready to strike.
"Heh heh… not bad," Garp chuckled. "You're still standing."
He cast a sidelong grin toward Yoriichi. "Soon, you'll see what true power on these seas looks like."
Then, without another word, Garp leapt onto the dog's head figurehead, his cape snapping in the wind.
Yoriichi, with his Transparent World vision, could see every muscle in Garp's body tighten. His legs braced, his right fist coiled back, Armament Haki swirling around it like black lightning.
The air crackled—crack-crack-crack!
"Roger! Let me give you a proper greeting!"
Garp grinned, and threw his punch.
An explosion of black lightning burst outward as the punch tore through the air. The concentrated Armament Haki left his fist entirely, rocketing across the open sea like a cannon blast aimed straight at the Oro Jackson.
Yoriichi's eyes widened.
B–beyond the body?
He had never seen anything like it—Haki leaving the wielder and traveling freely through the air.
Wasn't Haki supposed to enhance one's body or weapon? Not become a projectile?!
"Boom!!!"
The air trembled as Garp's invisible punch roared toward the pirate ship.
On the Oro Jackson, Roger sensed the incoming strike. His expression sharpened—he drew his blade in one smooth motion, springing to the bow.
"Divine Departure! (Kamusari!)"
A crescent of black energy, sparking with dark lightning, split the sea as it shot forward, colliding head-on with Garp's attack.
"WMMM!!!"
Their wills—two titanic auras—clashed midair.
The collision sent shockwaves tearing through the sea. The water depressed hundreds of meters down, and above, the clouds split apart, revealing a brilliant blue streak of sky like a wound in the heavens.
A heartbeat later—a massive explosion.
The sea erupted. Waves surged hundreds of meters high, battering both ships and sending them skidding backward.
"Damn it, that guy Garp found us again!" one crewmate groaned.
"Yaru-durumm~! The party's over!" another laughed.
"Alright boys—time to run!" Roger barked, landing back on deck.
Their clash had churned the sea into chaos—the perfect chance to slip away.
He had no intention of fighting Garp head-on. Not today. Not when every second counted.
He wasn't here to duel. He was chasing history itself.
"Can't waste my life trading blows with Marines," he muttered. "I've still got a world to see."
The Oro Jackson, masterwork of the legendary shipwright Tom, turned sharply. Despite being a sailing vessel, its power rivaled any Marine ship.
Within moments, it was already hundreds of meters away, vanishing into the distance.
On the dog-headed warship, Garp watched them flee—and grinned.
He tore off his Justice cloak and, without warning, jumped overboard.
"BOOM!!!"
A deep rumble came from beneath the waves.
Then—
"WHOOOOSH!!!"
A colossal wave surged upward from beneath the warship, lifting it dozens of meters into the air!
"Is he—is he punching the ocean?!" Yoriichi thought, eyes wide.
Through his Transparent World, he saw everything—Garp diving deep, striking the sea floor with a single punch to create the rising wave, then breaching the surface and hitting the wave itself to send it hurtling forward.
Two punches. That was all.
And now, the warship was riding the wave like a bullet.
Back on deck, Garp landed lightly, grabbing the railing with one hand and roaring in laughter.
"Hold on tight, men!!"
"We're going in hot!!!"
The giant wave propelled the warship forward at terrifying speed, straight toward the fleeing Oro Jackson.
Aboard the pirate ship, Buggy's jaw dropped.
"Wh-wh-what the hell—?! That ship's—surfing?!"
The other crewmates gaped in shock. Even Roger could only clutch his head in disbelief.
"That damned Garp…" he groaned, laughing through his exasperation. "What a maniac!"
Then, with a grin spreading across his face:
"Someone like that… being a Marine is just too small for him."
(End of Chapter)
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