"Rosinante."
"Dad…"
After some time, Sengoku the Buddha walked over once he saw that Rosinante had finally calmed down. He gently patted the boy's head. Rosinante looked up at Sengoku, his mood far more settled than before.
Logically speaking, Rosinante shouldn't have broken down crying like a child. After all, his true age was already over eighteen, and his mind was mature—he wasn't someone who cried easily.
But ever since his soul merged with the eight-year-old body of this world's Rosinante, some of his behaviors were subtly influenced by the original host's temperament. It wasn't significant, but in moments when his guard was down like just now, when he realized he had eaten the cursed Calm-Calm Fruit, it would surface.
Now regaining his rationality, Rosinante wiped away his tears. Sengoku gently caressed his head with fatherly concern, all while casting a scathing glare at Garp, who stood nearby absentmindedly picking his nose. This child had already endured more pain than anyone his age should bear, and now Garp had made it worse by letting him eat such a worthless fruit.
"Dad… Do you think eating the Calm-Calm Fruit means I'll be a useless failure for the rest of my life?"
Rosinante's voice was bitter as he looked at Sengoku.
Sengoku smiled warmly and replied, "Silly child. Remember this: in this world, there are no useless Devil Fruits—only people who fail to use them properly. As long as you train and develop your powers, the results might surprise you."
"No useless Devil Fruits… only useless people?"
Rosinante had heard that saying before, but he'd never truly believed it. Not everyone could be like Doflamingo, turning the String-String Fruit, something that sounded like it was meant for knitting sweaters into an absurdly powerful tool for offense, defense, and even healing.
But then he thought: If Doflamingo can do that with his fruit, why can't I? I'm a transmigrator, after all. Shouldn't his imagination and creativity surpass that of a native to this world?
In fact, in his past life, Rosinante had always had a different view on the Calm-Calm Fruit. Properly developed, its potential could rival even the Logia types.
There are no useless Devil Fruits… only useless people. And I am not useless.
In that moment, a fire ignited within Rosinante—a determination to defy fate. Sengoku, on the other hand, felt a pang of guilt after offering what was meant to be comforting advice. He knew the truth: with enough creativity and tenacity, even the most lackluster fruits could be honed into formidable weapons.
But the development cost was vastly different. Someone who managed to turn a "trash" fruit into a deadly ability might've been even stronger if given a high-tier fruit to begin with. That's precisely why the Marine HQ had a dedicated team to classify and appraise Devil Fruits, so the most promising ones could be awarded to top-tier Marines. Fruits were not handed out at random.
In other words, some fruits really were inferior. And the Calm-Calm Fruit? It was clearly one of the least desirable.
Trying to ease both Rosinante's and his own heart, Sengoku added, "Besides, becoming strong doesn't have to depend on Devil Fruits. There's also physical combat, swordsmanship… If you train hard, you can still become a mighty man."
He pointed toward the carefree man beside them.
"See that idiot over there? Garp doesn't have a Devil Fruit, and yet he's still one of the strongest man in the Navy. No one dares say they can beat him."
"Wahahaha! Sengoku, you flatter me like that out of nowhere—I'm gonna blush! Wahahaha! Hey, Rosinante, kid, want to train under me in hand-to-hand combat? I guarantee I'll turn you into a fine Marine!"
Garp laughed heartily, rubbing the back of his head.
"Damn you, Garp! Stop trying to lure my Rosinante away!"
Sengoku growled, face darkening. Garp just waved it off and looked back at Rosinante.
The boy quickly waved his hands in protest. "No thanks! I'll train with Dad instead!"
"Bah, what a shame. I'm off then. Yaaawn~ So sleepy. Sengoku, wake me up when we get to Marineford…"
Garp yawned, waved goodbye, and vanished into the ship's interior to nap.
Once Garp was gone, Sengoku looked down at Rosinante and said softly, "Don't blame Garp. He may seem careless, but he does feel guilty about what happened."
"Hehe… it's fine, Dad. You were right. My Devil Fruit may not be amazing, but I can still train in combat and swordsmanship. So please, Dad, teach me how to fight!"
Rosinante looked up at Sengoku, eyes full of unwavering resolve.
Sengoku was moved. That was the look of someone who'd chosen to fight back against fate. He'd seen that very same look in the mirror long ago.
"Alright then. Starting tomorrow, your training begins. But be ready to suffer, got it?"
"Yes, Dad! Bring it on!"
Rosinante struck a confident pose. Sengoku couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Ha ha ha! That's the spirit, Rosinante! Keep it up!"
"Tch. Not bad, brat." Garp muttered from inside the cabin, peeking through the glass. Seeing Rosinante's determination, he finally relaxed. He'd been worried that his mistake had crushed the boy's spirit—but thankfully, it hadn't.
After a long night, everyone was exhausted. Sengoku instructed his aide to find Rosinante a room, then returned to his office to work. He had hoped the seas would calm after the fall of the Rocks Pirates, but instead, the world had become more chaotic than ever.
Without Rocks to hold them together, monsters like Whitebeard, Shiki, Kaido, and Charlotte Linlin had split off to form their own crews, causing even greater devastation across the seas.
And to make things worse, right at this critical juncture, former Admiral "Black Arm" Zephyr's entire family had been slaughtered by pirates. Stricken with grief, Zephyr resigned from his post, further depleting the Navy's already thin lineup of elite fighters.
Now, only a few could hold the line: Fleet Admiral Kong, Admiral Sengoku the Buddha, and Vice Admiral Garp. But that damned Garp had refused the promotion to Admiral, leaving all the work meant for three to fall solely on Sengoku's shoulders. As a result, he was forced to burn the midnight oil nearly every night.
"Admiral Sengoku."
"Oh, is Rosinante asleep?"
Sengoku looked up from his papers to his aide.
"Yes, sir. Fast asleep."
"Good. You should get some rest too. And wake him up early tomorrow, I'll be assigning him training."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Alright, off you go. It's late."
"…But sir, what about you? Aren't you going to sleep?"
"I'll finish these two reports first. Then I'll rest."
"But sir, you haven't slept in two days…"
"I'm fine. These are deployment records for New World operations against pirates. The sooner I get through them, the sooner civilians can be protected."
(End of Chapter)
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