"General, bad news, they've escaped!"
Shortly after Shirakawa and his group left the city, in a grand and imposing building, a soldier knelt humbly before a man.
"What did you say?"
The man's voice was cold. He crushed the wine glass in his hand with a crack, and the red wine dripped from his fingers to the floor.
"Th-they escaped, General," the kneeling soldier stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
"You useless trash."
The general stepped forward, pulled out a large saber from who knows where, and in the soldier's terrified gaze, slashed downward. Blood sprayed across the floor.
"Spending all that money to keep you lot alive is worse than keeping a dog. Someone, come here."
At the general's call, another person pushed open the door and entered. Seeing the dead soldier on the ground, his expression didn't change; he was used to such scenes.
"Clean this up. And bring my horse. I'll take care of this myself. Outsiders daring to meddle in our affairs, they don't know what death looks like."
"Yes, General."
After everything was prepared, the general stepped out of the shadows, revealing his appearance.
He was under 1.6 meters tall, weighed nearly 200 jin (~100kg), had a fat face with drooping ears, and was adorned with gold and silver. Each of his fingers bore a ring, but the rings were so small they were almost completely swallowed by flesh; only the occasional glint of sunlight reflected off a diamond could be seen.
Despite his rotund figure, he was surprisingly agile. He approached his horse and mounted it in a single, practiced move. The horse was no ordinary steed; it had scales. It was likely a hybrid breed; otherwise, it couldn't support his weight.
"I'll go first. The rest of you follow."
"Yes, General," the soldiers responded as the general gave orders atop his phosphorescent-scaled horse.
"Look, that bastard's got his sights set on someone again. Whoever he's after never ends up well."
"Yeah, yeah…"
The townspeople watching the general ride off wore expressions of concern and pity.
"Looks like Shirakawa and his group are in for trouble."
Rayleigh, who had just finished gambling and was drinking tea at a roadside stall, also noticed the general. He could sense the thick stench of blood radiating from him—something that only came from killing countless people. The man was ruthless and vicious.
Rayleigh had only ever sensed such overwhelming bloodlust from Barrett. Though that didn't mean this general was anywhere near Barrett's strength, Barrett could probably finish this guy in three moves, maybe even one.
Still, the bloodlust was real, meaning the man had truly taken many lives.
This made Rayleigh worry a little about Shirakawa and the others. But he didn't move to help; he believed this general would pose no more than a moderate threat to them.
As Rayleigh stared in the general's direction, a figure approached and sat down across from him. Without a word, the man poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip.
"What are you looking at, Rayleigh?"
"Nothing much. I just have a feeling that guy won't meet a good end."
"Because of Shirakawa and the others?"
"You already know?"
Indeed, the man in front of Rayleigh was none other than Gol D. Roger.
"Nope. Just a guess. After all, they made such a big scene last night, it's hard not to notice. By the way… didn't you get caught up in that too?"
"Haha…"
Rayleigh laughed awkwardly.
"I got dragged into it passively. But it's been a while since I felt the thrill of being chased. Kinda nostalgic."
"You are a sucker for punishment. And didn't we just escape from Garp a few days ago?"
"That monster doesn't count," Rayleigh said, his expression darkening.
"Monster? If he's a monster, what does that make you?"
"At the very least, I'm still not at his level… Anyway, aren't you worried about Shirakawa and the others?"
"Worried? What's there to worry about? Even if they can't beat that guy, they can still escape. Heck, I saw Shirakawa flying through the air carrying some girl earlier today. Who is she, anyway? What's their relationship?"
Roger leaned forward with a gossipy look.
"I'm not sure. But that girl seems to be the princess of this island's Moll Kingdom."
"So they're escorting her home, huh? Why?"
"They said they wanted to get the eternal log pose to the next island, and use the battlefield experience as training."
"Oh, I see. Training is good. But the log pose? That's not necessary."
"What do you mean?" Rayleigh asked, curious. Was Roger planning to stay on this island for three years?
"Because I already have one."
Roger pulled out a log pose from his pocket and set it on the table.
"Where'd you get that?"
"I bought it. These aren't rare here."
Because this country lacked skilled navigators and had poor navigation tech, they had a large supply of eternal log poses pointing to the next island. Any random store would have one.
"Oh, so that's how it is. Looks like Shirakawa and the others did all that for nothing."
"Maybe. But if they gain something from the battlefield, then it won't have been a waste. Still… this island is a mess."
"What, you planning something?"
Rayleigh squinted at Roger.
Roger had a flaw: he loved meddling in other people's business. If he saw trouble, he had to get involved. If he saw injustice, he had to try to fix it. Civilians caught in war zones? That was exactly the sort of thing that got under his skin.
"Who knows? We'll see how things go."
Roger smiled broadly as he said this, flashing a full set of teeth.
Seeing that grin, Rayleigh sighed and rubbed his forehead. He knew Roger would step in. He didn't know how yet, but bringing peace to three warring nations was going to be no small task.
"I do regret ever boarding your ship sometimes…" Rayleigh muttered helplessly.
"Haha! Now you want off the ship? Too late for that!"
Roger burst into hearty laughter. He didn't take Rayleigh's complaint seriously—he already knew Rayleigh well. Sure, he might grumble, but when it came down to action, he'd never hold back.
"Come on, forget this tea stuff. Let's go drink some real booze."
After paying, Roger threw an arm around Rayleigh and dragged him toward the tavern.
Rayleigh wasn't just Roger's first crewmate. He was also the one who suited Roger's personality best, which is why he became the first mate.
"If only it could always be like this…"
Rayleigh thought to himself.
But then he remembered Roger's illness, and his pleasant mood quickly turned heavy.