To craft an Eternal Pose, the crew lingered on Laugh Tale for a while. Unlike ordinary Log Poses, this one was far fussier: special shells, tuned suspensions, endless calibration. In the end, they managed only two.
Roger kept one. The other went to Dimon.
With the job done, the ship dropped from the White-White Sea back to the blue, turning for home. Night had already fallen when they cleared the clouds, so—naturally—a celebration broke out on deck. Food. Booze. Laughter. And a chorus of Binks's Sake that rolled with the swells.
Amatsuki Toki smiled faintly as the men sang. This voyage had been fun for her, too—down to the deep, up to the sky, equal parts danger and wonder.
This era… really is interesting.
Dimon sat cross-legged on the planks, toying with the Eternal Pose to Laugh Tale, mind wandering to… history.
Did I just delete the Great Pirate Era by accident?
"What's on your mind?" Jabba slumped down beside him with a bottle, pleasantly hammered.
"I'm thinking… now that you've found the Final Island, what's the plan?" Dimon grinned. It wasn't his business, exactly—but if the Great Pirate Era didn't kick off, it would feel like the world was missing a piece.
Jabba scratched his beard. Plans? That was for the captain.
"Live free, I guess."
"Everyone wants something," Dimon said. "Just living for the sake of living—what's the fun in that?"
"Hahaha, fair. If I had to name something… maybe marry a wife and have a kid."
"You're a pirate and that's your dream?" Dimon snorted. Real man, this one—if memory served, he'd marry a giantess someday. Respect. (Still no idea how those logistics worked.)
Roger plopped down between them like an overgrown child. "What are we talking about?"
Dimon scooted an inch to make room. "Your plans, Roger. Disband the crew and retire to the East Blue?"
"Disband? Why?" Roger flashed that incorrigible grin. "The real part starts now. We collect Devil Fruits—and we live until that day."
That day—the day Nika returns. What Laugh Tale left behind was Joy Boy's message to the one who would bear the Sun God's mantle.
"Thirty years is a long wait," Dimon said. For regular people, half a life; even for an immortal devil, it wasn't short.
"By the way," Roger added, eyes glinting, "your Wine of Immortality—is it truly no-side-effects immortality?"
He couldn't quite believe in a free lunch. Devil Fruits turned you into a landlubber; surely immortal wine hid a barb.
"Side effects?" Dimon thought, then smiled. "Among immortals, you can only speak to each other using your true names."
"Meaning?" Jabba blinked.
"Meaning exactly that. If you and Roger both become immortals and you ask, 'What's your name?' he can only answer with his real one."
"That's a side effect?" Jabba laughed. Compared to not being able to swim, it sounded… cute.
"Don't be so sure," Dimon said softly. "For the undying, being bound to the truth can be a heavy burden. One day, you might understand."
He left the other side effect unmentioned and steered the talk back.
"Roger—you know everything now. Ever think of finding a stage big enough to kick off a new era?"
Roger's eyes sharpened. "Go on."
A headline detonated across the world.
The World Economy News ran Roger's story on the front page, courtesy of a tip from Roger himself—and Morgans made sure it flew.
"Grand Line Conquered—Pirate King, Gol D. Roger!"
Just like that, Roger stepped from the Five Peaks to the one peak. Rumor said the crew had found the true Final Island and an unimaginable treasure.
Wealth. Power. Fame.
Dreamers shoved the world to a boil.
"Rocks's reign is over—now it's the age for pirates to dream!" the old sea dogs crowed.
Uncountable pirates set sail, chasing the Roger Pirates' wake.
So did the Marines.
Within a single day, a stack of wanted posters flapped from newsbirds' bags across the seas:
"Pirate King" Gol D. Roger — 5,564,800,000 Berries
"Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh — 3,522,200,000 Berries
"Scopper Gaban" — 3,013,800,000 Berries
Every member had a number. Even the temporary passenger Amatsuki Toki got one:
Amatsuki Toki — 30,000,000 Berries
And, of course, the two brats:
Shanks — 10,000 Berries
Buggy — 10,000 Berries
When Dimon saw their posters, he felt the same way he did looking at Chopper's bounty: who are you underestimating? Those were two future Emperors!
"Sir Dimon, why am I wanted?" Toki fretted, holding her poster out like it might bite.
"Relax. Back in Wano, the Navy can't touch you. That's my turf," Dimon said. He was mildly surprised his own bounty hadn't been updated. The World Government seemed intent on… downplaying his existence.
Marineford, Marine Headquarters.
"You've all seen the news," Zephyr said from the lectern, slapping Roger's poster onto the board.
The 5.5648 billion slapped back at the cadets like a wave.
"Roger circled the Grand Line and the world hails him 'Pirate King'!" Zephyr's voice cut the room. "The rumors say they found the treasure. It will ignite more pirates."
These recruits were the future. If rookie pirates who hit Sabaody with over a hundred million were "Supernovas," then this room was the Marine Supernova class.
A lanky youth, eighteen or nineteen, propped his cheek on his palm as if he might nap at any moment. Thwip. A piece of chalk drilled his forehead.
"Kuzan. Are you listening?"
"Ah-lalala… sorry, Instructor Zephyr," Kuzan muttered, sitting up straighter—then raised his hand. "Question."
"What?" Zephyr glared. He liked this kid—joined last year and already past most of his peers—enough to take him as a disciple. But still.
"Instructor, aren't you immortal? If the Marines have a future, doesn't it start with you? You're an Admiral, after all."
Zephyr's face darkened a shade. He strode down the aisle and thumped Kuzan's head with a fist. "I'm a teacher right now!"
Snickers rippled through the room.
"What's funny?" asked a young man in a cap, voice cold. Sakazuki.
Another sat statuesque, outwardly calm, mind elsewhere—Borsalino.
He sighed inwardly. When's this class end…?
They were the same cohort, joined two years ago, and had blazed through the ranks on talent alone.
Zephyr let the laughter die and jabbed a finger at the board.
"Memorize those faces. The Pirate King's crew won't be easy to corner. Headquarters has a new directive—Operation Gatefall—a net big enough to catch Roger and every fish swimming in his shadow."
He paused, eyes sweeping the room.
"And there's a second name on that list—someone the Five Elders say must be 'contained at all costs.' The one they call Brewer. The man who can make the Wine of Immortality."
Chalk rasped as Zephyr wrote two characters beneath Roger's wanted poster:
D I M O N
"Cadets," Zephyr said, voice turning flint. "Welcome to the era you'll have to fight."
Back on the Oro Jackson, a Den Den Mushi began to ring—its receiver flashing with the cipher channel used only by Marine Headquarters.
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