History was about to change.
Setting foot on the Oro Jackson for the very first time, Dimon couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. He remembered the dates clearly: Roger's public execution was in 1498, and the world hailing him as Pirate King came in 1497.
Now, those milestones would arrive five years early.
"You're just leaving your country like that? No loose ends to tie up?" Roger asked, surprised.
Dimon was already on deck, waving to everyone. "What are you all spacing out for? Let's go."
Everyone: "…"
They'd planned to freeload a few more days at Dimon's expense. He didn't even give them a window to mooch.
"As for Wano," Dimon added, laughing, "someone will 'guard' it for me."
Worst case, he'd teleport home once if anything happened. In fact, he was curious. With Kaido off on campaign and the shogun stepping away, what would the samurai do? As an immortal devil, a little fun wouldn't hurt.
"Hahahaha! Then let's be off!" Roger boomed. True to form, he didn't dither. The whole crew filed aboard.
Sails flared. The ship left Kuri Beach and angled for the great waterfall.
On deck, Dimon greeted the crew, saving Shanks and Buggy for last.
"Yo—sa shi bu ri da na, Shanks. And you, Red-Nose. We're gonna be spending some quality time together."
Shanks took a fearful half step back, guarding his little sparrow like a national secret.
Buggy bristled. "Who are you calling Red-Nose?! Why does he get a name and I get 'Red-Nose'?"
"Your nose is red."
Dimon teased the brats, mood positively sunny.
"Boys!" Roger whooped. "Break out the good meat and the good booze—we're hosting a welcome party!"
"Oooooh!"
The Roger Pirates were the definition of "drink today, breathe tomorrow"—men of freedom to the bone. The kitchen doors swung like saloon shutters; platters and casks appeared by the armful. They plopped down right on the deck and threw a raucous feast.
Everyone was glad Dimon had joined—even if only as a temporary crewmate. It didn't dampen the celebration.
Jackson Bana drew his violin, a tune rising like wind over waves. Voices followed:
"Yo-ho-ho-ho… yo-ho-ho-ho…"
"Yo-ho-ho-ho… yo-ho-ho-ho—"
"Bring Binks's wine and pass it down the line—"
"Like the sea breeze, we sail free, cuttin' foam and brine!"
"Beyond the setting sun, the world still laughs and shines—"
"Birdsong paints its circles on the sky so fine!"
"Farewell to velvet ports and silken towns—"
"Raise the song! We're outward bound!"
With that cheerful chorus, the Oro Jackson plunged down the falls, throwing up a glittering wall of spray.
In 1492, Roger hadn't yet fallen ill. Shanks and Buggy weren't sick either—no excuses to miss the final island. Everything felt like the song itself—wind at their backs, the ship cutting into the sealed past.
"Happy, boys? Welcome Dimon to the Roger Pirates!" Roger called, flushed from drink, lifting his cup.
"All together!"
"Cheers!!"
"Wooo!!"
Smiles bloomed everywhere. Dimon drifted for a moment—compared to the Rocks Pirates, Roger's crew truly did feel… happier.
Wano — Shogun's Residence.
Stussy puffed her cheeks at the note Dimon left. "That man! Off chasing the final island and leaves me here? Ugh!"
Abel kept his head down. She was the boss's woman—he couldn't very well scold her for scolding the boss.
Stussy sighed. "I'm heading to the Onigashima lab. Abel, I'm trusting you with things here."
"Yes, Lady Stussy! While Lord Dimon is away, I'll guard this place with my life!"
Oro Jackson — Lounge.
Everyone gathered around as Dimon translated the ancient script—one character at a time. Four rubbings, six to seven hundred characters in all… trivial for Dimon. Half an hour and done.
He pulled four island names, drew intersecting diagonals on the map—and the final crossing point…
"That's it?" Roger squinted at the map, scratching his chin. "There's no standard route there. Without instructions, you'd never find it in all this ocean."
"Don't celebrate yet," Dimon said, shaking his head. "That's a 2D intersection. Think it through. If it were that easy, would it really have taken centuries?"
Rayleigh slid the chart to himself. "This is our own world map. The furthest island we charted was Mercury's Fairy Isle—we went there in 1483."
A year before God Valley. A year after they'd first met Dimon at Beehive Island.
Jabba added, "On Mercury's Isle, all three Log Pose needles spun out from the magnetic field. We figured it wasn't the end—there had to be another magnetic island beyond."
"Then we go look—here, first," Roger decided, tapping the marked sea. He paused. "Hm?"
He jerked his head toward a wall clock—or rather, past it, as if his vision punched through wood and distance.
"What is it, Captain?" the fish-man Sunbell asked, puzzled.
Dimon, Jabba, and Rayleigh all turned in the same direction without meaning to.
"You hear that too?" Jabba frowned. "A woman's voice—calling for help."
His Observation Haki reached farther than Roger's. In it, a woman's cry threaded the sea air.
Dimon arched a brow. "I'll take a look…"
They burst onto the deck and, sure enough, spied an island not far off the bow.
"Why're you running, woman?!"
"Didn't we say we'd ferry you to Wano?"
"Heh-heh-heh, you can't escape—this island's deserted!"
A pack of pirates chased a lone figure.
She had a cascade of emerald hair, a refined face, and a lithe frame. She fled to the shoreline—nowhere left to go.
"I can't believe I let obvious scoundrels trick me. That's a slavers' ship, isn't it?" she sighed, drawing the sword at her waist and readying herself.
If push came to shove… she'd jump forward again.
She kept that thought to herself.
Just then, she noticed the pirates freeze—fear draining the color from their faces.
"O-oi… th-that flag… on the horizon—the Roger Pirates!!"
"One of the Five Peaks! Why are they here—and heading straight for us?!"
"Wait—look up!"
The woman blinked and looked skyward with them.
A young man hovered overhead, black wings spread, hands in his coat pockets, eyes resting on her with a slight curl to his mouth.
Dimon.
And the woman—
Not just any castaway.
Amatsuki Toki.
The woman who leapt eight hundred years.
Dimon's smile deepened… and the Roger flag cast their shadows long across the shore.
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