"Roger succeeded, haha! This is today's front page—no, the only front page. Push everything else aside!"
At the headquarters of the World Economic News, Morgans' eyes bulged as he scanned the news sheet. Then, with wings flapping and beak stretched wide, he burst into thunderous laughter.
"Big news! Big news! Print it, print it until your wings fall off—let the whole world see this!"
"This edition of the newspaper is free! Spread it everywhere!" Morgans bellowed, voice echoing across the press floor.
"Vice President, if it's free, won't we be losing money?" an editor asked timidly, bewildered.
"Money is nothing!" Morgans snapped, feathers puffed out, eyes gleaming with feverish excitement. "We are journalists! This is history! News like this must reach every corner of the world instantly!"
Though still technically vice president, Morgans' authority had grown as the old president stepped back into semi-retirement. Bit by bit, power was passing into his talons. Soon, everyone knew, he would be the true president.
"Yes, President!" the editor saluted, already back at his post. The entire staff buzzed like a shaken hive, knowing the next few days would be madness.
"Hahaha! Double everyone's wages—no, quintuple! And when it's done, vacations for all of you, in shifts!" Morgans shouted.
"YES!" the newsroom roared back, energy flooding through them as if they'd been injected with a stimulant.
News birds launched into the skies, scattering across the world. Newspapers rained from above, spilling into every alley, every tavern, every kingdom. The whole world learned the truth at once.
'Roger had become the Pirate King.'
"Pirate King, huh? Zehahaha! So it begins."
On White Sand Island, Teach sat sprawled on a sofa, the bold black headline spread across his hands.
Right after the Battle of Edd War, the Roger Pirates had gathered all four Road Poneglyphs that marked the way to the final island. They'd sailed into the fog of legend, searching for the last island—Laugh Tale—rumored to hold the treasure that could shake the world itself.
Every force had watched, waiting. Just yesterday, the Oro Jackson emerged from the mist. The impossible had been achieved: the Roger Pirates had circumnavigated the entire Grand Line.
Roger was crowned Pirate King. His crew had secured their place as the strongest in the world.
Yet questions gnawed at everyone: What had they found? What did they see on that island?
Far across the sea, atop a floating island fortress, Golden Lion Shiki roared with laughter, holding the paper. "As expected of Roger! A worthy rival! Gehhahahaha!" His voice rattled the very air.
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard guzzled sake and laughed thunderously. "Gurararara! Roger!"
In Totto Land, within the towering Cake Castle, Charlotte Linlin's fury split the air. "DAMN ROGER!" Her fist smashed the dessert before her, voice booming like a demonic roar that shook the souls of her children.
The Road Poneglyphs were no secret to the great pirates. One was in her possession, and Roger had dared to storm Whole Cake Island itself, copying its glyph under her nose.
Her crew cowered below, hands pressed to ears, eyes shut tight. None dared speak. When Mama raged, survival meant silence.
Across the seas, other great pirates too received the news, scouring for any trace of the Roger Pirates. But the crew had vanished like ghosts. None could imagine that the Pirate King's crew had already disbanded.
On White Sand Island, Mostima frowned over the news. "Roger's been crowned king… What do we do now?"
The headline was poison for ambitious pirates like him. No one wanted a throne already filled. Recognition from legends like Whitebeard and Shiki meant nothing—they would never bend the knee.
Teach only laughed. "Zehahaha! Don't worry, Mostima. Roger has a fatal illness. At most, he's got a year left to live."
"What? Impossible!" Mostima was shaken to his core, but he didn't doubt Teach. He crushed the newspaper in his hands, face grim.
"Roger won't just fade away," Teach said, eyes gleaming. "Before he dies, he'll shake the world one last time. That will be the spark. Then our era begins." He rose from the sofa, stretching his shoulders. "Now—show me your progress."
He headed toward the training grounds.
Mostima followed, fighting spirit igniting. "Haha! Then let's do it." His voice carried warmth like a spring breeze, yet hidden beneath was sharpened steel.
Teach tested him often, proving his strength and demanding growth. To earn loyalty, one had to wield overwhelming power. And after a year under Teach's influence, Mostima's confidence had hardened into ambition.
The two squared off in the training yard, four cadres watching: the brothers Hademan and Hadena, Abby, and the navigator Shook.
"Be careful, I won't hold back," Teach growled, his hands shifting into claws, Armament Haki gleaming along their edges.
"My strength won't stagnate," Mostima replied with a smile. Yet his body tensed instinctively. Facing Teach was like staring into the eyes of a beast.
He attacked first, moving faster than sound. In the past year, Teach's guidance had driven him to train his body relentlessly, refining swordsmanship and Devil Fruit mastery alike.
The Feather-Feather Fruit suited him perfectly. His body had grown lighter, stamina stretched, speed multiplied. With a year's work, he'd already crafted several deadly techniques.
He flashed forward. "Feather Blade!"
Blades of condensed white feathers sprouted from his forearms, slicing at Teach with lethal precision.
Clang!
Teach blocked easily, face unreadable. Mostima pressed harder, mixing his physical combat and Fruit abilities, but Teach's Observation Haki read every move. Every strike was anticipated, countered, nullified.
Mostima gritted his teeth. Swordsmanship alone wouldn't work—Teach's Haki would catch him. He needed overwhelming force.
"Featherfall: Ten Thousand Swords!"
Countless feathers bloomed around him, floating in silence before shooting forward like a storm of arrows.
Teach's eyes gleamed. He drew the Dragon Abyss.
"Dragon's Roar!"
The blade sang, unleashing a sound wave that rolled like a dragon's cry. Feathers froze midair, crushed by invisible vibrations before scattering uselessly to the ground.
"Storm Blade!" Mostima countered, reclaiming the fallen feathers, spinning them into a tornado around Teach. Razor feathers slashed inward with each gust.
Teach braced with Armament Haki, then exploded upward, blasting through the storm and closing the distance.
Mostima flared his wings, taking to the sky. Perched on feathers, he darted away, body flowing like wind itself. His aerial mobility was unmatched.
But Teach followed, stepping through the air with Geppo, the Dragon Abyss poised to strike.
Their blades clashed midair.
Boom!
A shockwave burst outward. Mostima flapped hard, dispersing the force and regaining balance.
But Teach vanished again. A blur.
Mostima sensed the danger and shifted instantly, feathers propelling him at blinding speed.
The four onlookers below could only watch shadows colliding, eyes struggling to keep up.
Finally, Teach caught him. "Demonic Claw: Rift Valley!"
Mostima's instincts screamed. "Hurricane Barrier!" A vortex of wind wrapped him, feathers shielding his body. It was strong—yet not enough.
Rip!
Teach's claw tore through. Desperate, Mostima crossed his wings before him, Armament Haki reinforcing them.
Szzzch!
The impact rattled him to his bones. The force hurled him down, smashing him into the earth.
Boom!
Dust and stone exploded.
Coughing, Mostima dragged himself upright. He'd given everything, but Teach never let up, suffocating him with relentless offense.
Still, even in defeat, he saw his growth. He was stronger—close to Vice Admiral level already—but Teach's gulf was still vast.
"You're incredible, Boss Teach," Hademan muttered, awe in his voice. Every spar was like this—beyond their comprehension.
Mostima wiped blood from his lip, smiling weakly. "Monster strength."
Teach only grinned. "I'm still far from a real monster."