Waves rolled over waves, surf chased surf, dancing endlessly across the boundless sea.
Upon that vast expanse, the Oro Jackson cut a slow and steady path, leaving behind a gleaming white trail of foam.
Aboard the ship, the crew of the Roger Pirates had gathered on the deck. Tables were laden with food and fine wine, and amid the clinking of goblets and tankards, shoulders were slung around shoulders as laughter and song filled the air. The once serene stretch of ocean had been utterly transformed by the sheer revelry of pirates at feast.
This was a pirate's banquet.
"Captain Roger! This time we've got it, another Road Poneglyph from Zou, to go along with the one we picked up at Fish-Man Island!"
"That makes two Road Poneglyphs in our hands!"
"Just two more and we'll be able to reach the final island!"
"Congratulations, Captain!"
Langram raised his glass high in salute to their captain, brimming with excitement. According to legend, the final island held untold treasure stretching as far as the eye could see—the dream of all pirates.
"Hahahaha!"
"It's still a bit early to celebrate, Langram."
Roger's booming laughter echoed over the sea.
"When Linlin left the Rocks Pirates all those years ago, she took with her one of Rocks' Road Poneglyphs. I managed to swipe a rubbing from her, but the damn thing got soaked in seawater—it's blurred beyond use."
"This time, I plan to have Oden translate it directly."
"But snatching something from Linlin's hands... that's no easy feat!"
"Hahahaha!"
Roger laughed heartily, raised the bottle in his hand toward Langram, and then downed it in one mighty gulp.
Yet after that drink, the laughter faded from his eyes. While the crew reveled and cheered, Roger's own mood was notably subdued. Only when someone toasted him directly did he manage a brief smile in return.
"What's wrong, Roger?"
Rayleigh, who sat drinking beside him, leaned over and asked quietly. Silvers Rayleigh had been Roger's very first crewmate—the one who had followed him since the very beginning. While others called him "Captain," Rayleigh alone spoke to Roger with familiarity, using his name.
"We already know the locations of the other two Road Poneglyphs. It's only a matter of time before we get our hands on them."
"One's in Linlin's possession. The last one? It's in Oden's homeland—Wano Country."
"But... there's something that's been nagging at me."
"I learned from Oden that the Poneglyphs were created by the ancestors of the Kozuki clan in Wano. They're indestructible stone monuments."
"There are two types: one kind, like the red Road Poneglyphs, marks the path to the final island."
"The other kind records the lost history of the Void Century—the so-called Historical Poneglyphs. There are twenty-six of those."
"I've managed to collect eighteen so far. I want to uncover that forgotten century, Rayleigh! I want to know why the World Government erased it from history."
"There's an earth-shattering secret buried there, and we can only uncover it by gathering every last Poneglyph."
"But... the remaining eight Historical Poneglyphs are still nowhere to be found."
"Rayleigh, time's running out."
Roger's voice was low, tinged with urgency. Despite their progress, he was far from satisfied.
He already knew the truth—his illness was terminal. His days were numbered.
Before his death, he yearned to uncover the truth of history, to realize his dream of circumnavigating the world, and to set foot upon the final island.
He had nearly achieved that dream—only the final island remained. And as for that erased century... he'd only just begun to lift the veil.
What little history he had uncovered was already staggering. A man as seasoned and worldly as Roger could still be shaken by the past buried beneath the world's facade.
"…"
"Don't overthink it, Roger."
"Let's handle what's in front of us first. The rest can come later."
"Maybe, just maybe, as we press forward, news of the remaining Poneglyphs will come to us."
Rayleigh paused, then offered a calm reassurance.
Everyone on board knew of Roger's illness. But apart from Rayleigh, no one dared to bring it up. Roger had always treated life lightly—what he truly pursued were the dreams he had yet to fulfill.
"Captain Roger! Why the gloomy face?"
"How about I cheer you up with a performance!"
Just then, a red-nosed boy of about twelve or thirteen years old noticed Roger's brooding expression. He put down his cup, pushed through the crowd with a grin, and stood before Roger.
Without waiting for a reply, he snatched five apples from the banquet table and began juggling them in the air.
"Idiot Buggy!"
"Captain Roger doesn't want to watch your lame act! Don't get in the way of his food and drink!"
A red-haired boy suddenly leapt from behind Buggy and kicked him square in the rear. Caught off guard, Buggy tumbled forward with a spectacular face-plant.
The apples came crashing down, bonking Buggy on the head before scattering across the deck.
Roger blinked, then stared at Buggy groaning at his feet. Suddenly, he burst out laughing and pointed a finger at him:
"Oi! Buggy, your nose is bleeding!"
"Bwahahaha!"
Buggy sat up, rubbed his nose, and saw the bright red blood on his hand. He turned his gaze toward the culprit—rage flaring in his eyes. With a roar, he lunged at the red-haired boy:
"YOU BASTARD!!!"
"SHANKS! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"
Shanks laughed heartily as he dodged Buggy's furious pounce. The chase began, with Buggy thundering after him in a blind rage, while Shanks darted around the ship, still cracking jokes:
"Come on, Buggy! You're way too slow!"
"You'll never catch me at this rate! Hahahaha!"
The entire crew broke into laughter as they watched the two boys bicker and tumble about. The festive atmosphere grew even more lively. Roger, too, was caught up in their energy—he stopped thinking about the weight on his shoulders and rejoined the party, smiling.
But just as the revelry reached its peak, both Roger and Rayleigh froze mid-motion. As if in sync, they turned to glance at each other—something in their expressions unreadable but alert.
Without a word, the two men rose from their seats and made their way to the bow of the ship, gazing out across the open sea.
"An old friend's arrived… How timely. We were just in the middle of a banquet."
Roger smiled as he stared at the seemingly empty horizon. The subtle shift in mood quickly drew the attention of the other crewmates, who followed Roger and Rayleigh to the front of the ship and looked out in the same direction.
But they saw nothing.
"Captain, what are you and Uncle Rayleigh looking at?"
Even the squabbling Buggy and Shanks had stopped, crowding around to peer into the distance.
"Heh… here they come."
Just as Roger spoke, a mast emerged from the sea where moments before there had been only water. Then, a moment later, a Navy flag unfurled into view.
"NAVY!!!"
Shanks and Buggy gasped in unison.
Soon after, the silhouette of a dog-headed warship took shape in the distance—and once again, the two young pirates couldn't contain their shock.
"That's Hero Garp's ship!!"
Vice Admiral Garp, the Navy Hero—his name was no stranger to the Roger Pirates. They'd clashed with him dozens of times before. And yet, every time, they had managed to slip through his fingers.
Shanks and Buggy remembered him vividly, and for good reason.
Buzz!
Suddenly, Roger's eyes narrowed at the ship on the horizon. An overwhelming force surged from his body, crashing toward the Marine vessel in the distance.
Conqueror's Haki!
The previously calm sea began to roil without warning.
On the dog-headed warship, Garp stood firmly at the bow. Behind him stood Aokiji, Bogard, and Yoriichi Tsugikuni—each of them solemn, their gazes locked onto the approaching Oro Jackson.
In the blink of an eye, the invisible force struck like a tidal wave, its weight palpable. Even the air itself seemed to grow heavy.
Crack!
A sharp sound rang out as fine fractures appeared along the ship's wooden railing.
On the deck, the pressure proved too much for the lookouts. One by one, their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed like marionettes with severed strings. Below deck in the engine room, similar scenes played out.
The warship, which had been charging forward, came to an abrupt halt.
Roger's Conqueror's Haki had reached across the ocean—and succeeded in disrupting even the hardened Navy personnel aboard the distant ship.
At the bow, Yoriichi Tsugikuni instinctively lowered his stance, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. Like a beast sensing a threat, he was poised to strike at a moment's notice.
"Heh heh… not bad," Garp chuckled.
"You held your ground."
"Yoriichi… soon, you'll witness what true power on the Grand Line really looks like."
Garp turned his head slightly, smiling at Yoriichi who remained steady despite the immense pressure. Then, without hesitation, he leapt to the top of the dog-head figurehead.
Through his Transparent World technique, Yoriichi observed the inner workings of Garp's body—muscles flexing, legs widening into a battle stance, right fist clenched, Haki condensing around it. Black lightning crackled into existence with a crackling pop.
"Roger—just thought I'd say hello!"
Garp grinned widely and unleashed a punch!
A burst of dark lightning exploded in front of him, lashing out in all directions. The Haki gathered around his fist surged forward the moment he swung—projected across the ocean in a devastating blast aimed directly at the Oro Jackson.
Yoriichi's pupils contracted sharply.
He had never heard of Haki being launched without a physical medium—no sword, no weapon, no object. Wasn't Haki meant to enhance the body and one's weapons for defense and offense?
How could it be unleashed like an attack in itself?
Boom!
The air itself seemed to explode. The sheer force of Garp's punch rocketed toward the pirate ship.
Roger sensed the attack instantly. With a swift motion, he drew his longsword from his waist and launched himself to the bow of the Oro Jackson.
"Divine Departure!" he roared, swinging his blade with immense force.
A black, crescent-shaped shockwave—crackling with dark lightning—burst from Roger's blade, colliding head-on with the surging Haki blast from Garp.
Woooong!!
The two titanic forces—Roger's and Garp's Haki—collided midair above the sea. The air trembled with a haunting hum.
At the epicenter of their clash, the ocean surface sank inward from the sheer pressure. Above them, the clouds were split in two—leaving behind a vivid, azure ribbon across the white sky.
In an instant, massive waves surged in all directions, slamming toward both the Navy warship and the Oro Jackson.
Crash—!
The waves struck both vessels, lifting and throwing them each a hundred meters backward.
"Tch, Garp found us again!"
"Yarudeym~ the party's over!"
"It's time—we run!!"
Roger's "Divine Departure" had just barely neutralized Garp's strike. Leaping back to the deck, Roger raised his longsword high and barked his command.
The aftermath of their clash still raged around them. With the sea so violently disturbed, there was no better moment to flee.
As for engaging Garp and his forces head-on?
Defeating Garp outright?
That thought never even crossed Roger's mind.
His time was precious. He had no intention of being bogged down in a drawn-out fight.
He knew full well how strong Garp was. If they went toe-to-toe, the battle would drag on endlessly. Whether he won or lost was beside the point—what mattered was the time it would cost him.
And that was a price Roger could not afford to pay.
"I don't have time to waste with the Marines," he muttered. "I've still got a world to chase."
Roger's goal wasn't to defeat the Navy, it was to uncover the Rio Poneglyphs, to sail the world, to reach the final island.
Using the stormy winds to his advantage, Roger's flagship, the Oro Jackson, surged forward and vanished from the scene. Though it was a sailboat, it had been masterfully crafted by Tom, the greatest shipwright in Water 7 and its speed was more than a match for any Navy warship.
In the blink of an eye, the Oro Jackson had sailed a hundred meters away, already on the verge of disappearing from the Dog-Head Warship's line of sight.
Aboard the Dog-Head Warship, Garp stared at the rapidly departing Oro Jackson. Then, suddenly—he grinned.
Without hesitation, he shrugged off the Justice cloak draped over his shoulders and leapt from the ship without a word.
"THOOM!!!!"
A muffled boom resounded from the depths of the sea just moments later.
"Whoooa~~~~~~"
In the next second, a massive surge of water erupted from beneath the Dog-Head Warship, lifting the entire vessel dozens of meters into the air. The colossal wave, as if driven by some unseen force, continued to rise even after hoisting the ship.
"BOOOOM!!!!"
Another deep blast followed—and the wave suddenly lurched forward, as though it had been shoved by an enormous invisible hand.
Now surging with unstoppable momentum, the massive wave propelled the Dog-Head Warship straight toward the distant Oro Jackson.
"?!!!"
Yoriichi Tsugikuni gripped the ship's railing tightly with both hands, bracing himself to avoid being thrown off by the violent motion. His face was frozen in shock, eyes wide in disbelief at what Garp had just done.
His Observation Haki clearly perceived the sequence of events:
After diving into the sea, Garp plunged over ten meters down before striking the ocean floor with a single punch that was what triggered the monstrous tidal surge.
Then, surfacing in an instant, Garp delivered a second punch to the rising wave itself like winding up a spring, injecting even more explosive force into the already massive swell.
This insane maneuver… had been executed with just two punches from Garp.
Now, stepping lightly on Moonwalk, Garp had already returned to the warship. Grabbing onto the railing with one hand, he threw his head back and roared with laughter:
"Hang on tight, boys!"
"We're going in hot!!"
The towering wave surged forward, carrying the entire Dog-Head Warship straight toward the Oro Jackson at blistering speed.
Back aboard the Oro Jackson, now some distance away, Roger and his crew had already noticed the strange phenomenon in the distance.
"Wh-What the hell is that?!"
"That warship, h-how is it?!"
Buggy's jaw nearly hit the deck as he stammered, eyes bulging at the sight of the Navy vessel riding the tidal wave like a demon-possessed cannonball.
The rest of the crew stared in stunned silence at the unbelievable scene—both the wave and the warship atop it were closing in fast.
Even Roger himself was momentarily speechless, his mouth slightly agape as he clutched his forehead and let out a breathless laugh:
"That Garp… he's completely out of his mind."
"A man like that… the Navy's too small a stage for him."
*********
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