The distant island grew steadily larger as the Athena followed the course Rockstar had given them, bringing the ART Pirates deeper into the territory of the Red Hair Pirates.
Late-afternoon sunlight stretched across the sea, revealing green hills surrounding a natural harbor that opened toward calm waters.
Unlike the fortified territories Arthur had encountered under other Emperors, there were no enormous walls, towering cannons, or fleets of warships waiting at the entrance.
Instead, smoke rose lazily from several chimneys near the harbor, while faint music drifted across the water on the gentle breeze. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the strangely peaceful sight.
"...So this is where he wanted us to come." Arthur narrowed his eyes.
Behind him, the crew gathered along the deck, each observing the island in their own way. Law rested one hand against his sword while carefully scanning the coastline, his expression refusing to relax simply because the scenery looked peaceful. Robin stood beside him with her usual calm demeanor, while Koala leaned against the railing with a faint smile as she watched the harbor draw closer.
"It doesn't look like an Emperor's stronghold," Law remarked.
"That's probably the point," Robin replied. "Shanks has never needed to make his territory look intimidating."
Koala glanced toward the peaceful coastline. "After everything we've seen since entering his territory, I think I'm starting to understand why people here aren't afraid of him."
The Athena slowly entered the harbor. Fishing boats moved between the piers, merchants carried crates from one vessel to another, and townspeople walked along the waterfront without any sign of alarm. Several children played near the edge of the harbor, their laughter carried across the water by the breeze.
Then someone noticed the Athena. A few heads turned, a merchant pointed toward the black-and-white sails bearing the emblem of the ART Pirates, and another person stopped what he was doing to get a better look at the unfamiliar ship.
Yet no one screamed or ran. They simply stopped what they were doing and watched the unfamiliar ship approach.
"Still the same," Sugar murmured.
"Nobody's afraid," Baby 5 added.
"Either they trust Shanks that much..." Law's eyes narrowed. "...or there's something we don't know."
"Probably both." Arthur chuckled.
The Athena was secured alongside the pier, where several members of the Red Hair Pirates were already waiting. They weren't standing in formation. Some leaned casually against crates, others sat on barrels and talked among themselves, and a few were carrying weapons without making any effort to hide them.
There was no hostility in their posture, however. They looked less like an Emperor's crew receiving another Yonko and more like a group of friends waiting for old acquaintances to arrive.
At the center stood a familiar red-haired man.
Shanks.
Arthur's eyes settled on him.
For a brief moment, the years between them seemed to collapse beneath the weight of an old memory.
A much younger Shanks flashed through Arthur's memory, the red-hair boy and the red-nose boy standing together among the crowd at Roger's execution long before either of them had become what they were now.
The boy Arthur remembered was gone.
In his place stood one of the Emperors, a pirate whose name alone was enough to make entire fleets reconsider their course.Shanks raised one hand.
"Arthur!" His voice carried across the harbor with effortless familiarity. "Welcome!"
Several members of the ART Pirates exchanged glances.
That was it?
No warning. No demand. No mention of territory.
Just a welcome.
"Nice place." Arthur stepped toward the edge of the deck.
"That's what I was hoping you'd say." Shanks laughed.
The gangplank was lowered, and Arthur stepped onto the pier first Lucky Roux immediately approached with a massive grin, although his attention seemed almost as fixed on the enormous spread of food behind him.
"Finally! You're here! I was starting to worry we'd have to eat everything ourselves."
"You're calling that a problem?" Law stared at the mountain of meat.
"Exactly!" Roux laughed.
The atmosphere loosened almost immediately. Arthur's crew followed him ashore. Hancock and Baccarat descended with elegant calm, Robin and Monet quietly observed the surroundings, while Law, Sabo, Bepo, Kuina, Sugar, and Koala remained more cautious. No one had forgotten where they were.
They were still standing among the crew of one of the Emperors, and none of them had forgotten it.
Then the children appeared.
Lancelot ran down the gangplank with Arthoria and Merlin close behind, accompanied by several Angeloids who stayed within arm's reach of them. The Angeloids had remained at the children's side throughout the voyage, and even in this relaxed atmosphere, their vigilance never faded. They moved naturally among the children without restricting their freedom, always close enough to intervene should anything go wrong.
Yasopp noticed them immediately.
"Well, look at that." He crouched slightly as Lancelot approached. "Are these Arthur's kids?"
"Yeah." Lancelot looked up at him.
"Then come with me. I've got something you might want to see."
"Really?"
Yasopp grinned. "I make no promises."
Lancelot eagerly followed Yasopp, with one Angeloid moving after them without hesitation. Yet the moment they passed Lucky Roux's cooking station, the smell of roasted meat proved stronger than Yasopp's promise, and Lancelot stopped in his tracks.
Nearby, Lucky Roux crouched beside Lancelot and opened a large cooking container.
"Want to see something cool?"
Lancelot leaned closer.
Inside was an enormous piece of roasted meat.
"That's huge!"
"Now you're speaking my language!" Roux burst into laughter.
Within moments, Lancelot had become completely absorbed in Roux's cooking.
Yasopp stared after him. "That was fast."
Arthur shook his head. "He's easy to bribe."
"Children are usually better at recognizing who makes them feel safe than adults give them credit for," Robin remarked.
Arthur glanced toward her. "And you trust them?"
"I trust what they've shown us so far." Her answer was careful.
Arthur gave a small nod, appreciating the distinction.
Then he noticed Beckman standing several steps away, a cigarette between his fingers. Merlin had wandered toward him and looked up at the Red Hair Pirates' first mate with quiet curiosity.
A thin trail of smoke drifted upward before Beckman's eyes moved toward the child. Without a word, Beckman removed the cigarette from his mouth, extinguished it beneath his boot, and slipped it away before the smoke could drift any closer to the child.
Merlin continued staring up at him until Beckman finally raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
The child reached toward him.
Beckman hesitated, then lowered himself slightly.
Merlin climbed onto his shoulder and, after only a few moments, rested his head against him. Within seconds, the child was asleep.
A few Red Hair Pirates nearby burst into laughter.
Beckman looked down at the sleeping child.
"...Figures." He made no attempt to move him.
Across the pier, Shanks noticed and laughed. "Looks like he feels safe with you."
"I noticed."
The laughter grew louder.
For the first time since entering Red Hair territory, the ART Pirates truly began to relax.
Then Arthoria stopped.
Her eyes had fixed on something at Shanks' waist.
Gryphon.
The legendary saber rested casually at the Emperor's side.
Shanks noticed her gaze and crouched slightly. "You like swords?"
Arthoria nodded.
Shanks drew Gryphon only a few inches, enough for the polished steel to catch the dying sunlight.
"It's called Gryphon."
Her eyes widened.
"Beautiful..."
Shanks held the sword where she could admire it without touching the blade. Arthoria slowly reached toward it, but Shanks gently raised the sword out of reach. At the same time, her free hand began inching toward the bottle resting on the table.
Shanks noticed.
He immediately moved the alcohol farther away.
"Not that one."
Arthoria blinked. "Why?"
"Because you're too young for that."
Several people burst into laughter.
Arthur covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.
Hancock raised an eyebrow. "At least he has good judgment."
"I've got children in my crew too," Shanks replied.
Arthur smiled. "She isn't even my most troublesome one."
"I heard that." Arthoria frowned.
Another wave of amusement passed through the gathering.
Arthur remained among them, quietly taking in the scene. He had entered an Emperor's territory expecting tension, suspicion, perhaps even a test of strength. Instead, his children had been welcomed without hesitation, his crew treated as guests, and the Emperor himself was laughing beside them.
Yet Arthur knew better than to let the warmth of the evening make him careless. The man laughing beside him was still Shanks—the red-haired Emperor whose strength had earned the respect of monsters throughout the New World.
Shanks raised a large bottle.
"Come on, Arthur! You're the guest of honor. The banquet hasn't even started yet!"
Arthur glanced at the bottle, then at the gathering around him.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"All right."
He stepped forward.
"Let's see what you've prepared."
The Red Hair Pirates erupted into cheers, and the sound followed the ART Pirates as they disappeared into the heart of the celebration. By the time the last light of day had faded beyond the horizon, the quiet harbor had transformed into a sea of lanterns, music, and overflowing tables.
Night settled over the harbor.
Lanterns illuminated the wooden tables beneath a large shelter overlooking the sea. Mountains of roasted meat, freshly caught fish, bread, fruit, and enough drinks to satisfy an entire fleet covered the tables. Lucky Roux stood beside a massive grill, turning enormous pieces of meat over the flames while Lancelot hovered nearby, asking questions faster than Roux could answer them.
"Don't touch that one yet!" Roux shouted when Lancelot reached toward the grill.
"Why?"
"Because it's mine."
"That's not fair."
"Then you'll have to make your own!"
Roux's laughter echoed across the harbor.
Nearby, Yasopp had already gathered several of Arthur's children around him, entertaining them with increasingly exaggerated stories of his adventures. The Angeloids remained nearby without interrupting, their quiet vigilance blending naturally into the children's evening.
Beckman sat at the edge of the table, and when one of Arthur's children wandered closer, he quietly moved his cigarette away before the smoke could reach them.
Arthur noticed the small gesture, as did Hancock, but neither felt the need to comment on it.
Beckman simply didn't want smoke near the children.
The evening continued peacefully, and Arthur gradually found himself watching rather than participating. His crew had lowered their guard. Even Law, who had spent most of the evening monitoring every movement around him, was no longer gripping his sword. Hancock was listening to several Red Hair Pirates talk about their travels, Koala had joined Sabo in conversation, Robin had begun speaking with Beckman, and even Kuina seemed less tense than when they had first arrived.
The atmosphere made relaxation almost inevitable, and that was precisely what kept Arthur cautious.
Shanks sat across from him, laughing loudly at something Roux had said. There was no visible threat, no hidden army, and no indication that the invitation had been anything other than what it claimed to be.
A celebration.
Arthur took a sip from his glass, but the movement stopped halfway as something in the atmosphere changed. The wind passing through the harbor suddenly fell still, the flames beneath the cooking grills flickered sideways, and several birds resting on the rooftops abruptly took flight.
Arthur slowly raised his eyes.
Shanks had stopped laughing.
The Emperor was still sitting at the table, one hand resting casually around his drink, but his expression had changed. Beckman's eyes narrowed slightly. Yasopp stopped in the middle of his story. Lucky Roux looked up from the grill.
The laughter gradually faded.
Then Arthur felt it—a pressure settling over the harbor like an invisible weight.
Nothing moved and nothing struck the ground, yet the air itself seemed to grow heavier with every passing second.
Several members of the ART Pirates instinctively straightened. Law's hand moved toward his sword, Koala's expression sharpened, and Sabo stopped speaking.
Even the sea reacted.
Small waves that had been moving gently against the harbor suddenly became irregular, their surfaces trembling beneath the moonlight.
Arthur remained still.
He knew that presence.
Conqueror's Haki.
But this was nothing like the casual displays of power Arthur had witnessed before. Shanks' Haki was concentrated, refined, and so precisely controlled that it felt less like an attack than a deliberate reminder of the force hidden beneath his relaxed demeanor.
Shanks wasn't attacking anyone; he didn't need to. His presence alone was enough to make the entire harbor feel as though it had fallen beneath the shadow of an unseen storm.
Clouds began gathering overhead. The moon disappeared behind them as distant thunder rolled across the island, and the lantern flames trembled beneath an invisible pressure.
Arthur slowly stood.
For the first time since arriving, the smile disappeared from his face.
So this is the Emperor Shanks has become.
He had heard the stories.
Roger's former apprentice.
Mihawk's old rival.
An Emperor who had reached the summit of the pirate world without relying on a Devil Fruit.
But stories were different from standing directly before the man himself.
Arthur had faced monsters. He had crossed battlefields where armies had fallen and confronted enemies capable of reshaping the battlefield itself. Yet Shanks' presence felt different.
There was no transformation, no overwhelming physical display, and no elaborate technique—only Haki, refined to a degree that made it feel almost tangible.
Rather than frightening him, the realization drew a faint smile across Arthur's face.
Interesting.
Arthur's own Conqueror's Haki answered, sending a tremor through the air as the two invisible forces collided above the harbor.
A sharp crack echoed through the night as the sea pulled away from the pier before surging back. The clouds twisted overhead, and several wooden structures creaked beneath the pressure.
"Arthur..." Robin's eyes narrowed.
She understood immediately.
Arthur wasn't merely resisting Shanks.
He was answering him.
The pressure intensified.
Then—
CRACK!
The sky cracked open as a massive fissure tore through the clouds, allowing moonlight to pour across the harbor. Waves erupted around the harbor as several members of both crews instinctively stepped backward.
Yet neither Emperor moved.
They simply stared at one another.
Shanks' expression slowly changed.
"So you've got quite a bit of pride yourself."
"I could say the same about you."
Shanks laughed.
The pressure vanished. The clouds gradually separated, the wind returned, and the sea settled. For several seconds, neither crew dared to break the silence.
Then Lucky Roux looked toward the grill. "...Did anyone save the meat?"
The absurd question shattered the tension.
Both crews burst into laughter.
Law stared at him.
"That's what you're worried about?"
"It's dinner." Roux pointed toward the grill with complete seriousness. "The meat is important."
Arthur shook his head, laughing quietly. "You people are unbelievable."
"That's why we're still alive," Yasopp replied.
The banquet resumed.
Yet the atmosphere had changed. Everyone now understood the difference between entering an Emperor's territory and sitting at the same table as one.
Arthur watched Shanks calmly return to his drink and understood what mattered most: the red-haired pirate had possessed enough power to turn the harbor into a battlefield, yet the moment Arthur answered his Haki, Shanks had chosen to let the confrontation end.
There had been no escalation and no attempt to establish superiority—only acknowledgment between two men who now understood exactly where the other stood.
Arthur lifted his glass.
Shanks noticed.
Their eyes met.
They drank.
As the night deepened, the younger members of both groups gradually drifted away from the main tables. Some children were escorted below deck by the Angeloids, while others remained nearby under careful supervision; meanwhile, the music softened, the grills burned lower, and the once-deafening conversations settled into quieter exchanges.
Arthur looked toward the dark sea.
Shanks followed his gaze.
For several moments, neither man spoke.
Then Shanks smiled. "Arthur."
Arthur turned.
"There's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time." The casual tone was gone.
"What is it?"
Shanks lowered his bottle. "You were there that day, weren't you?"
Arthur's expression changed slightly.
The memory returned.
A platform.
A massive crowd.
The execution of Gol D. Roger.
"You remember."
"I never forgot." Shanks smiled.
"You were crying." Arthur's lips curved faintly. "And you had that red-nosed friend beside you."
"Buggy?" Shanks laughed softly. "You remember that?"
"I remember a lot from that day."
The laughter faded.
For a moment, both men looked toward the sea.
They both remembered Roger standing upon the execution platform, the announcement that shook the world, and the impossible smile of the man who remained the Pirate King even as he faced death.
"He knew," Arthur said quietly.
"Yes." Shanks nodded. "Captain Roger knew what would happen after his death."
Arthur lowered his eyes. "His era didn't end that day."
Shanks smiled faintly. "No. It only changed shape."
Silence followed.
Then Shanks reached for his bottle.
"After Captain Roger died, everyone started chasing his treasure."
"The One Piece."
Shanks nodded. "Everyone wants to know what's waiting at Laugh Tale."
"You've been there?"
"No."
"But you sailed with Roger."
"I did."
"Then you must have heard something."
Shanks looked toward the horizon. "I heard enough to know the world isn't what people think it is."
Arthur's eyes sharpened. "And Laugh Tale?"
"That island isn't simply the end of a journey." Shanks paused, his gaze settling on the horizon. "It's an answer."
He looked back at Arthur.
Arthur said nothing.
"Roger and the others laughed when they reached it," Shanks continued. "They came back knowing something that changed the way they looked at the world."
"What did they find?"
"That's the question." Shanks' smile returned. "The question everyone should be asking."
Arthur leaned back. " "You don't know."
Shanks shook his head. "No."
"But you still want to find out."
"Of course."
Their discussion gradually moved from Laugh Tale to another mystery woven throughout the history of the world—the inherited will carried by those who bore the initial D.
"The Will of D."
The name carried a weight neither man ignored.
"Gol D. Roger carried it," Shanks said.
"That name matters." Arthur looked at him. "More than most people realize."
Neither elaborated.
They didn't need to.
Names.
Inherited wills.
Ancient secrets.
Pieces scattered across centuries.
Then Arthur's expression hardened slightly.
"And the World Government?"
Shanks became quiet.
"The Government has ruled for eight hundred years," Arthur continued. "They erased an entire century from history, control what the world is allowed to know, and become unusually violent whenever someone gets too close to whatever they're hiding."
Shanks slowly rotated the bottle between his fingers.
"You're already looking deeper than most pirates."
"They're afraid of something."
"They are."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You know what it is?"
Shanks gave a faint smile. "I know enough to understand that the people sitting at the top aren't the only ones you should be watching."
Arthur remained silent.
Shanks' expression became more serious.
"The Five Elders are dangerous, Arthur. Not because of the authority their positions give them, but because of how much power they can exercise without ever appearing on the battlefield."
"Then because of what they are?"
Shanks didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward the dark horizon.
"There are powers within the Government that most of the world doesn't even know exist."
Arthur's gaze sharpened. "The Holy Knights?"
For the first time, Shanks' expression revealed genuine surprise. "You've heard that name."
"I've heard enough."
Shanks slowly leaned back. "Then you already know why the Government doesn't simply rely on the Marines."
Arthur said nothing.
"The Marines protect the Government's authority in the world," Shanks continued. "But there are things the Government doesn't want handled publicly. When something threatens the order at its very foundation, they don't always send an Admiral."
"Because they send the Holy Knights."
Shanks' eyes met Arthur's.
"Sometimes."
The single word carried more weight than any explanation could have.
Arthur studied him carefully.
"So you really know more about the World Government."
Shanks smiled faintly.
"Unfortunately."
The atmosphere around the table seemed to grow colder despite the warm night.
Arthur had heard rumors before. Whispers about a group that existed above ordinary military authority, a force whose existence was barely acknowledged by the world and whose members could act without answering to the people they supposedly protected.
But Shanks wasn't speaking like a man repeating rumors.
He was speaking like someone who knew.
"And the Gorosei?" Arthur asked.
Shanks' smile faded.
"They're closer to the truth than almost anyone alive."
Arthur's gaze hardened. "How close?"
Shanks took a slow drink.
"Close enough to know which parts of history must never be remembered."
The words settled heavily between them.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Shanks looked toward Arthur.
"That's why I wouldn't rush into the Government's secrets."
Arthur smiled faintly. "You're telling me to be careful?"
"I'm telling you that the deeper you dig, the more likely it becomes that someone will start digging for you."
Arthur gave a quiet laugh. "I'm afraid it's already too late for that."
Shanks laughed. "That's what I was afraid you'd say."
The tension eased slightly.
But Arthur's thoughts remained focused.
The Gorosei.
The Holy Knights.
The erased history.
Laugh Tale.
The Will of D.
The pieces were scattered, but they were beginning to form a picture.
And the more he learned, the more certain he became that the world he had spent years traveling through was only the surface of something far larger.
Shanks studied him.
"You're different from the others."
"How?"
"Most pirates who reach your level want something."
"Power. Wealth. Territory."
"Or the title."
Arthur waited.
Shanks leaned forward.
"But you don't seem interested in any of them."
"I have territory."
"That's not the same thing."
Arthur chuckled.
Shanks continued.
"You've crossed the Grand Line. You've fought the Government. You've uncovered secrets most pirates don't even know exist." He paused. "So what are you actually looking for?"
Arthur's gaze moved across the harbor.
The peaceful village.
The sleeping homes.
The children.
The sea.
"I want to understand the world."
Shanks became more attentive.
"All of it," Arthur continued. "The kingdoms, the seas, the people, the history—the things the Government wants hidden and the truths everyone else has learned to ignore."
He paused.
"How can I change something I don't understand?"
Shanks stared at him in silence.
"I'll visit every island in this world if I have to."
"That's quite a goal." A slow smile appeared on Shanks' face.
"It's mine."
Shanks laughed quietly.
Then his expression changed.
"Then answer me one thing."
Arthur met his eyes.
"Then why aren't you interested in becoming Pirate King?"
The question seemed to silence the harbor.
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
The waves rolled softly against the pier.
The lantern flames flickered in the night.
Finally, Arthur smiled.
"Because Roger already became one."
Shanks stared at him.
For one heartbeat, there was complete silence.
Then he burst into laughter.
"Exactly!"
Arthur's smile widened.
"Roger was the Pirate King," Arthur continued. "And nobody can take that from him."
Shanks raised his bottle.
Arthur raised his glass.
Clink.
The sound was small.
The meaning was not.
Shanks leaned back, still smiling.
"Now I understand why Rayleigh remembered you."
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"What did Rayleigh say about me?"
Shanks' smile remained.
For the first time that night, he didn't answer.
Instead, he looked toward the dark horizon.
"That's a story Rayleigh should tell you himself."
"You're enjoying this."
"Maybe."
Shanks stood.
The casual atmosphere around him seemed to disappear for just a moment.
His hand rested against Gryphon's hilt.
"Arthur."
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow..." Shanks smiled faintly. "Let's talk about what Roger left behind."
Arthur's eyes sharpened.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tonight was for drinking."
Shanks turned toward the sea.
"Tonight was for drinking. Tomorrow..." Shanks' fingers tightened slightly around Gryphon's hilt. "...is for the things that can't be discussed over a bottle."
Without another word, Shanks turned and walked toward the darkened harbor.
Arthur remained seated, watching the red-haired Emperor disappear into the darkness as the last sounds of the banquet continued behind him.
The banquet continued quietly behind him, but Arthur could no longer shake the feeling that something had changed. Their conversation had not truly ended. It had only reached the point where words were no longer enough.
Arthur slowly looked toward the horizon.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Whatever Shanks intended to reveal tomorrow, Arthur knew one thing for certain: it would not be something that could be explained over another bottle of sake.
Somewhere beyond the quiet harbor, the first light of dawn was already waiting. And when it came, the meeting between two Emperors would no longer be about the past.
It would be about what came next.