After the battle —
In an unknown part of the New World, aboard the slightly scuffed Oro Jackson.
The sky after the rain felt especially fresh. As soon as the weather cleared, Roger began rallying everyone for a new round of partying.
As for the reason... well, any excuse would do.
So let's say—it's to celebrate once again shaking off Garp's pursuit!
"Party time!!!"
"OOHHHHHH!!!!!!"
As the captain raised his glass with a loud cheer, the rest of the crew laughed and responded in kind. The deck was filled with a rowdy and heroic atmosphere.
Bang—!
In the midst of all this ruckus, a loud door slam didn't draw much attention. Nobody even noticed the red-haired kid storming out, a giant lump swelling on the back of his head, gritting his teeth and scanning the surroundings.
The straw hat on his head was tilted off to the side because of the bump, which looked so ridiculous that the nearby crew members burst into laughter when they spotted him.
"Did you get hit on the head during the last battle, Shanks?"
Roger, holding a bottle and in high spirits, noticed him. This kid was one of the promising young talents he had high hopes for in the new era. He walked over, ruffled his hair, and chuckled.
"It's not that... Where's Orin?"
Shanks clearly didn't want to talk about the bump on his head and awkwardly changed the subject.
After waking up, he'd grabbed Buggy and questioned him about the bump. But that traitor immediately threw Orin under the bus to shift the heat.
To be fair, Shanks considered himself a pretty easygoing guy. But getting sucker-punched by a teammate—and knocked out, no less—left him with a massive lump, which was just too much.
Everyone knew that aside from his crewmates, what Shanks valued most... was his pride.
Nine years since setting sail, this was the first time someone had humiliated him like this.
And so, the usually easygoing young Shanks was now red-hot with rage.
He wanted to prove himself—or maybe, just settle the score for that bump.
Weaving through the bustling party, Shanks searched around, eyes darting, looking for Orin.
Eventually, he found him in the middle of a group of burly guys.
The guy was eating roasted meat.
And not just eating—he was gnawing on giant bones and guzzling down drinks like a human vacuum. He looked like he was doing some kind of food livestream from Shanks' original world.
"Oh? Shanks, why're you glaring at me? You want some barbecue too?"
"Why're you holding a knife? This is all pre-cut, the meat's right on the bone."
"What? You wanna fight like a real man? I'm starving—at least let me finish eating. You wouldn't want an unfair victory, right?"
"I ate way too much, you get that, right? Let me digest first."
"...Hold up, I'm digesting, yeah, but I overate just now and I need to go take a dump. Wanna come?"
"Are you done yet?! You're even guarding the bathroom now? Fine, you really want a duel that bad?"
"Then taste my poop-soaked mop!"
Shanks was well aware of Orin's freakish strength and monstrous Observation Haki. So when faced with this weapon of psychological destruction, he wisely chose to retreat—for now.
It wasn't that he was afraid of a proper fight. Win or lose, he could just bandage up and rest a few days.
But the mop covered in poop? Yeah, no thanks.
Still, because of that incident, for the next few days, Shanks kept tailing Orin, making him increasingly uncomfortable.
Ah, forget it. A brat's a brat. If he wants a fight, then so be it.
Orin shook his head, walked to the storage room, and fetched a plain longsword. He tossed it to the still-pouting Shanks.
Shanks caught it in a fluster and saw Orin gesture with his index finger, smirking playfully with a devil-may-care grin.
"You bastard!"
Shanks felt a surge of excitement. He could tell—Orin was finally willing to fight him.
He gripped the sword in one hand, ready to strike. Seeing Orin stand there without moving, he wasn't about to hold back.
"Planning to use the gun on your back? I'm not giving you a chance to shoot."
He admitted Orin's marksmanship was top-notch, but in close combat? He wasn't afraid at all.
Seeing Orin's posture, Shanks got a little pissed and launched himself forward with a powerful leap, slashing down hard.
Trained by both Rayleigh and Roger, his swordsmanship was undoubtedly refined and aggressive.
But when two people have the same teachers, it's no surprise that Orin could counter every move.
Swish—
Swish—
Swish—
Orin didn't even open his eyes. He just kept dodging—tilting his head, turning his body, pulling in his stomach...
"You bastard, Orin! You gonna keep dodging forever?!"
Shanks was fuming. He felt like he was being toyed with.
"...If you really want me to use a weapon, fine."
Orin opened his eyes. He'd wanted to use this chance to sharpen his Observation Haki, but oh well.
He pulled out a tiny dagger he had swiped from Buggy.
"Sorry, this is the smallest blade I've got."
"Are you kidding me?!"
Turns out, Haki really made a difference.
Even for the red-haired Shanks, at age nine, he could only rely on his swordsmanship to spar with Orin. But every one of his attacks was easily parried by Orin using the tiny dagger—almost like a joke.
Clang! ×N
And even his most powerful strikes couldn't shake Orin's monstrous strength. All Shanks could do was keep getting pushed back.
"Shanks is totally getting dominated by Orin."
Several crewmates were spectating, including Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban. Seeing the situation, Rayleigh shook his head and sighed.
To them, it looked like two amateurs flailing at each other. But in reality, Orin was clearly holding the upper hand with his Observation Haki and inhuman strength.
...
Such a natural-born monster almost certainly had the qualities of a king—they had seen it time and time again.
"With kids like these around, the future's bound to be exciting!" Roger laughed heartily.
Besides the three of them, the rest of the crew were typical rowdy pirates—nothing made them happier than watching a good brawl.
Orin's teacher, Petermoo, even took the chance to open a betting pool:
Orin: 1:1
Shanks: 1:10
Draw: 1:5
This move even got Roger excited enough to pull out some treasure and place a bet.
"Let's go, Orin! Finish it in one go and win this thing!"
"Hey! Shanks, don't go down that easy!"
"Huh??? Are you blind? No way Shanks is winning this."
"You never know. It's a 1:10 payout."
"Gambling addicts never end well!"
The crew's arguing got heated, and Roger placed his bet, too—cheering loudly for the underdog Shanks.
He knew full well Shanks likely couldn't win, but still, this was a kid he had raised since young. He had to cheer him on.
Besides, the treasure he bet had been stolen recently. He had no use for it anyway.
Just as everyone was excitedly rooting for the fight...
Orin's Observation Haki suddenly picked up on something. A strange sensation. And then—a voice whispered directly in his ear.
"Call it a draw, Orin."
"Petermoo-san?"
(Note: This is similar to the Observation Haki usage in the One Piece Film: Red, where Yasopp and Usopp could communicate across dimensions.)
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
+100 chapters and support me on Patreon(.)com/Jixo