In a certain sea of the first half of the Grand Line.
The Oro Jackson was currently anchored on the calm ocean.
The massive layer of ice that had once covered the ship had completely disappeared. On the deck, Roger and his crew were sprawled all over the place, looking utterly miserable.
Especially Valthior—his face was deathly pale, sweat streaming down his temples, looking completely drained.
As everyone knew, friction at high speeds was terrifying. So although Valthior had encased the ship in ice, that ice was actually being worn away every moment, rapidly eroded by friction.
From the moment they fell from the Sky Island to when the ship finally came to a stop, Valthior had been pushing his powers at full output the entire time, constantly replenishing the ice that was being stripped away by friction.
The stamina consumption was enormous.
Seeing Valthior slumped against the railing, half-dead, Rayleigh staggered over, placed a hand on his shoulder, and asked, "Hey, Valthior… you alright?"
Even as he spoke, Rayleigh could hear the tremor in his own voice.
It wasn't fear—it was the aftereffect of that insane freefall from ten thousand meters. It felt like his body had fallen first while his soul was still trying to catch up behind.
Sure, the vertical drop was ten thousand meters—but they hadn't fallen straight down. They had slid down that ice ramp, making the total distance at least four or five times longer—close to forty or fifty kilometers.
That much time and distance in a constant near-weightless state had sent their heart rates skyrocketing. Then came the high-speed skimming across the sea afterward—it felt like his soul had nearly left his body.
Valthior felt dizzy and nauseous, like he might throw up at any moment. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed Rayleigh's hand, his eyes bloodshot, voice hoarse as he rasped:
"Kill him… kill that bastard for me…"
Rayleigh glanced back.
Gaban was already clutching the mast as he staggered to his feet. He barely took two steps before lunging at Roger and unleashing a barrage of punches.
"He's being killed, he's being killed—Gaban's already on it, Saint Valthior…" Rayleigh said, patting Valthior's back with relief.
...
Fifteen minutes later…
Roger, utterly devoid of any captain's dignity, was hanging upside down from the mast. His face was bruised and swollen, and around his neck hung a sign that read:
"I will never eat raw octopus with wasabi again."
"Damn it… thanks to that bastard, I think I've developed a fear of heights…" Gaban said, leaning against the mast and panting heavily.
"At least the ship's fine. Otherwise I really would've cut him down…" Rayleigh muttered, taking a sip from his bottle.
"Good thing we had Valthior. Without his ability, we'd all be done for…" Spencer said, his face still pale.
"I propose we mince Roger into meat paste!" Valthior growled viciously, gulping down rum to recover his strength.
"Didn't we hit something just now?" Doringo suddenly asked.
"Don't overthink it. That was a speed bump," Spencer said, patting Doringoon the shoulder.
Roger, knowing he was in the wrong, didn't feel particularly ashamed. Instead, he just played dead, hanging there with his eyes rolled back, not saying a word.
...
After everyone had more or less recovered, Rayleigh swung his sword and cut the rope, dropping Roger onto the deck.
Then he said, "Now there's a problem. Where exactly are we?"
Gaban pulled out several Log Poses, spread out a sea chart, and studied it for a while before saying:
"We've already passed Water 7. If we continue sailing west, we'll reach the Sabaody Archipelago…"
After marking a few points on the map, he confirmed:
"About five days' voyage."
At that moment, Roger suddenly opened his eyes and said, "Well, I guess that worked out in our favor? We were heading to Sabaody anyway…"
Before he could finish, Doringo threw a diaper from his arms straight onto Roger's face and cursed, "Eat shit!"
Shakky lit a cigarette and said, "Roger's not wrong. The process was… a bit intense, but we did arrive much faster than planned. Honestly, I was a bit reluctant to leave after spending nearly three years with you all… but now? I can't wait to get to Sabaody and get the hell off this ship. You're all a bunch of lunatics."
Clearly, that Sky Island descent had shaken even her.
With that, no one paid Roger any more attention. Everyone went back to adjusting the ship's operations, and soon the Oro Jackson set sail toward the Sabaody Archipelago.
...
Meanwhile, news of the Roger Pirates descending from the sky had quietly reached the Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
The butler Alfred remembered his master Saint Saturn's instructions and, for the first time in three years, took the initiative to contact his young master.
Valthior was lying on a sofa in the ship's library, planning to get some rest after exhausting himself earlier.
Before he could even close his eyes, his Den Den Mushi began ringing.
Since most of his connections were in Mary Geoise, Valthior had barely received any calls over the past three years.
Aside from that clueless guy Garling, who used to call him all the time two years ago—calls Valthior never bothered answering.
"Alfred?" Valthior said, slightly surprised by the Den Den Mushi's appearance. After a moment's thought, he picked it up. "What is it?"
Hearing his young master's voice again after so long, Alfred was so emotional his voice trembled.
"Young Master… it has been a long time. Are you well?"
Valthior's expression twitched slightly, the memory of that sky drop flashing through his mind. He steadied himself and replied coldly:
"What do you want?"
Alfred wasn't surprised by the lack of concern. Not daring to waste words, he quickly got to the point:
"We just received information that you may be approaching the Sabaody Archipelago. I took the liberty of contacting you to confirm whether this is true."
Valthior frowned. "Where did you get that information?"
He had just come down from the sky—yet Mary Geoise already had his exact location? That was unsettling.
"It came from Marine Headquarters. They reported witnessing your magnificent descent from the sky, during which you destroyed the Maelstrom Spider Pirates," Alfred quickly explained.
Valthior: ???
Maelstrom SpiderPirates?
Ah… right. When they came down, they did smash into something. Spencer said it was a speed bump… but wait—since when are there speed bumps on the sea?
Still, everything had happened too fast, and he'd been fully focused on maintaining his powers. As for the rest of the Roger Pirates—they clearly didn't care about such details.
Only poor Squard had ended up being treated like a literal speed bump.
"What, so the old man has some instructions?" Valthior asked.
Alfred definitely didn't have the guts to interfere in his affairs. If he was calling now, it had to be Saint Saturn's order.
Sure enough, Alfred said:
"Saint Saturn requests that, if it is convenient, Young Master return to Mary Geoise."
Valthior fell silent for a moment before replying softly:
"…Understood."
He hung up the Den Den Mushi and sank into thought.
At a time like this, why was the old man calling him back?
What was his current attitude toward him?
And more importantly… could he even go back?
What if he returned to Mary Geoise only to be placed under house arrest? That would be a serious problem.
...
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