Chapter 42 – The Ancient Zoan Bodyguard
At the top floor of Ross's office building—
Watching the Dog-Head warship docking in the distance, and the Nasdaq family guards hauling crates of gold aboard, Ross muttered to himself:
"Never thought you'd come in person to escort all this. If you ask me, my people here would have been more than enough. You showing up is just asking for trouble—sooner or later, someone's going to set their sights on you, oh great Navy hero."
"Hahaha—what's with that 'Navy hero' nonsense?" Garp stood beside Ross, grinning as he protested loudly. "And hey, what's that supposed to mean? I'm perfectly reliable, you know!"
He sighed, then continued:
"Actually, I'd planned to head straight home on leave after this. But there was no helping it—this matter was too big to ignore. Fleet Admiral Kong only agreed to give me an extra week off after he shoved me out the door to come here.
By the way… is it really true this whole plan was your kid's idea?"
In the end, Garp looked at Ross, his face full of curiosity.
When he'd first gotten the news, he'd been completely stunned. Even the ever-calm Tsuru had been equally shocked.
No one had expected that a mere ten-year-old child could come up with something like this. From Tsuru's rough calculations alone, once the plan was put into practice, the Navy's annual military budget could be reduced by at least ten percent.
That was an enormous figure. After all, the Navy didn't just cover food, lodging, and weaponry—it also had to pay wages, bonuses, and bounties. Every year, the military budget started at levels that could easily bankrupt a dozen allied nations.
And that was without counting all the other miscellaneous expenses—it all cost money.
Garp's question made Ross, who had been standing there with a relaxed expression, curl his lips into a smirk. He put on a deliberately nonchalant air as he bragged:
"Oh, nothing too remarkable. My boy just has a bit of a knack for ideas, that's all. In the end, he still needed my investment to make it happen!"
"Damn it! Why can't my son, Dragon, be that smart? The Monkey family has great genes—I even managed to make it to Vice Admiral! Why can't he be more like that?"
Garp grumbled sourly beside him, thoroughly exasperated by Ross's sudden swagger. He even rolled up his sleeves, as if ready to settle things with a good old-fashioned brawl.
In the end, though, the commotion ended peacefully. After all, Ross wasn't Sengoku—he and Garp weren't yet close enough to be the kind of friends who'd literally "spar" for fun.
---
Meanwhile, aboard the warship—
Moxxi was eyeing up and down, taking in how much the boy had changed.
Unbelievable.
Who could have imagined that the little brat who used to trail behind him everywhere would one day grow up to become someone so important?
What was I doing when I was ten? he thought wryly. Getting tormented by my evil older sister, probably.
"By the way, Brother Moxxi," Ator spoke up, as if he'd anticipated exactly this reaction. "Mother asked me to give this to you for safekeeping. There's a note inside—she said you should have a look."
He had expected as much. When he'd first shared this proposal via Den Den Mushi with Brother Sakazuki, the expression on the snail's face had looked almost identical to Moxxi's now.
As he spoke, he produced a small box he carried on him at all times and passed it up—it took some doing, since Moxxi was over a full meter taller than he was.
Taking the box, Moxxi opened it immediately—better to see whatever instructions were inside sooner rather than later.
But the moment he looked inside, he couldn't help swallowing hard. Internally, he was cursing in astonishment.
Holy hell—
Ross really went all out this time!
Then his gaze fell on the note—
Oh, come on—AN ANCIENT ZOAN?!
Dragon-Dragon Fruit, Ancient Model—Spinosaurus Form.
This wasn't just going all out—this was an absurd level of generosity.
"Your mom really dotes on you, huh? She's willing to hand over something like this to help you," Moxxi said, glancing again at the note in disbelief.
He could tell at a glance that the note was left by Ross. It even warned him not to reveal his true identity, instructing him to claim that Golly was the one who did everything.
"Mm. I understand."
Ator's words carried a hint of meaning neither of them chose to spell out.
Time passed quietly. Before long, Garp's warship had set sail for Marine Headquarters.
This operation would need the Navy's military support: establishing branch facilities between the North and South Blue at the Red Line's crossing, coordinating with both sellers and buyers, and building ships capable of safely crossing Reverse Mountain.
None of this could be accomplished in a matter of days. At the very least, it would take three months before operations could officially begin.
---
Inside the ship—
Roel had originally been on leave at Marine Headquarters, but one order had pulled him into Garp's entourage bound for East Blue's Sky Island.
He didn't know why, and he didn't ask. He was a soldier—and a soldier's duty was to obey.
Now promoted to Captain, he sat in the cabin methodically cleaning his beloved rifle. Even after all these years, it was still as pristine as the day he'd received it.
It had followed him through countless battles. By his rough count, no fewer than eight hundred pirates had died by its muzzle—making it a true instrument of slaughter.
"Roel!"
"Moxxi, sir. What is it?"
Roel hadn't disembarked to visit home. He didn't want to go back alone—better to stay aboard and gaze silently out the porthole at the familiar landscape.
They had set out with thirty-eight men, and they would all return together. Anyone who slipped away to sneak a visit home would be ruthlessly mocked as a "homesick coward."
"This is something Master Ross asked me to give you. And here—take a look at this appointment letter."
Moxxi walked over, took a seat beside him, and handed over a small box and an official document.
Three names were written at the bottom. The first was signed by Fleet Admiral Kong. The second, by Mr. Ross himself. The third line was blank, waiting for Roel to sign his own name.
Setting his rifle aside, Roel took both items slowly.
Without even glancing at the text, he drew a pen he always kept on him and signed with broad, confident strokes. Only then did he give the document a cursory read.
Personal bodyguard to Young Master Ator?
He paused, blinking in surprise, and then read it again to be sure he hadn't misunderstood.
"Me?"
"Yes—you. That box contains Master Ross's gift of support. Treasure it—he trusts you a great deal," Moxxi said, clapping him on the shoulder before standing to leave, giving him space to process it alone.
If not for his own single-minded devotion to the sword, he would have been the best candidate for this role. But Ross had never been the sort to force anyone's hand.
For that, Moxxi felt a pang of regret…
---
Moxxi hadn't been gone long when Roel finally stirred himself from his daze and opened the small box.
Inside lay an odd-looking fruit etched with spiral patterns. Beside it rested a folded slip of paper.
"An Ancient Zoan…"
He studied the fruit, then looked again at the appointment letter.
He said nothing. His face remained as cold as ever—the only time it ever showed a spark of madness was when he was unleashed upon the battlefield.
Wordlessly, he lifted the Devil Fruit and ate it whole.
Clenching his hand, he could feel it—he had become monstrously strong.
The power of the fruit responded to him as if it had always been his. The moment he wished it, he knew he could transform into a terrible Spinosaurus and rampage across the deck.
There were no words—only action could prove himself worthy of the trust and support Mr. Ross had shown him.
The days ahead would be long and dull, but it didn't matter. So long as he could be of use to Mr. Ross, that was enough.
"Sorry, old friend," he murmured, setting his rifle gently aside. "Looks like you'll be retired for a while…"