"Oh? Not bad, kid."
"No wonder you had the guts to come knocking on our door."
Scopper Gaban praised Michael with a glance, then turned his attention to the man standing off to the side, who hadn't made a move.
"Long time no see, Garp."
"The Marines showing up in full force on Baterilla Island—is it to capture Rouge?"
Garp didn't offer any explanation. Instead, he smiled and said to Gaban:
"And what if I said yes? What would you do?"
"You alone can't stop me, Gaban."
Gaban didn't answer, but he knew full well it was the truth.
He had once fought side by side with Garp during the God Valley Incident.
That kind of raw strength and terrifying Haki was unforgettable for a lifetime.
"And what if you add me into the mix?"
A lazy voice drifted out from the manor.
Seeing who it was, Garp wasn't surprised in the slightest.
"Dark King" Rayleigh.
"I knew it. Before the Roger Pirates completely disappeared, you two were bound to show up and protect Rouge."
Garp nodded, then strolled straight into the manor without any hesitation.
Rayleigh didn't make a move, instead walking alongside Garp.
But his eyes remained full of wariness.
Michael twitched his lips.
What kind of cryptic conversation were these old men having?
Couldn't the old geezer Garp just say he came here carrying Roger's final wish?
And besides...
Michael grasped the Supreme Grade sword "Ace" hanging at his waist.
There was also a farewell letter from a soul that hadn't been delivered yet.
So, he folded his wings slightly and thickened his skin as he tried to squeeze past Scopper Gaban.
With a whoosh, a massive axe swung out and blocked his path.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What do you think? I came here with that old man inside. What else would I be doing? You think I'm here to deliver milk?"
Michael rolled his eyes, shoved the axe aside, and walked in.
But after just a couple of steps, the sound of the axe slicing through the air came again from behind.
Michael's patience was starting to wear thin.
"Cut it out already, Gaban! Are you done or not?!"
Without hesitation, he drew Ace from his waist.
In an instant, the blade was coated in Haki.
But Michael had an eye for aesthetics.
A plain coating of black was too dull. The Haki wrapped around the blade now followed the grooves and patterns, creating intricate designs.
A pure white holy flame also swirled around the edge.
The extreme contrast in colors created a striking visual effect.
But more than just impressive to look at, the power was nothing to scoff at.
This slash, like Gaban's axe, had no flashy technique—just a head-on clash of strength.
They were locked for only a moment before Michael was sent flying several meters back.
Even Gaban had to take a few steps backward.
Michael silently cursed him as a monster.
Even after transmigrating, with physical strength, speed, stamina, and Haki all advancing abnormally fast—
He still didn't have enough time.
But Gaban was far more shocked than Michael.
After a long silence, Gaban didn't strike again. Instead, he asked:
"Kid, what's your name?"
"Michael. A youthful and dazzling eighteen years old."
"Eighteen, huh... Looks like Roger entrusted 'Ace' to you."
Gaban sounded like he was sighing.
And when he said "Ace," it sounded like he was referring both to the blade and the child.
"Looks like Roger planned from the beginning to have Garp help raise the kid, huh?"
"Hahaha, having a Marine hero raise a child... Well, at least he's more reliable than us old pirates who are about to retire from the seas."
"At least you're self-aware."
Michael replied coolly, then turned and headed toward the white house in the manor.
This time, Gaban didn't stop him.
Pushing open the door, Michael saw Rayleigh and Garp standing outside a bedroom.
"Oh? Done already?" Garp blinked in mock surprise. "I thought you were gonna get your butt handed to you."
"Garp-san, could you not root for my failure for once?"
Michael twitched his lips, but he didn't bother arguing with the old prankster.
He walked to the door and knocked gently.
Rayleigh's brow furrowed, and just as he was about to speak, Michael said:
"Portgas D. Rouge, I'm Marine Headquarters Commander Michael."
"I have a letter from Roger that must be delivered to you in person."
There was a short silence from within the room before a soft voice responded.
"Rayleigh-san, please let him in."
Rayleigh sighed and slowly pushed open the door.
Michael didn't say much more. With a solemn expression, he nodded at Rayleigh.
Garp stood off to the side, watching with curiosity.
Michael's already handsome features, paired with his serious demeanor and angelic wings, really did make him look like a divine messenger.
...
Entering the spacious bedroom, Michael immediately saw the woman leaning against the headboard.
Though her belly was swollen, her figure was still frail.
Roger's death had been the cruelest poison to this woman.
There was no trace of a will to live in her eyes.
If it weren't for the baby inside her, she likely would have followed him into death already.
"Michael-san, you said there's a letter for me?"
"Yes. But it's not a letter written on paper."
Michael nodded, then drew Ace from his waist.
Rayleigh tensed and was about to move, but stopped when he saw Michael cradling the sword in both hands and offering it to Rouge.
"The letter is in here."
"Touch 'Ace,' and you'll hear Roger's final words."
Rouge stared into Michael's gemstone-blue eyes before slowly reaching out to the sword...
The moment her fingers touched it, she gently closed her eyes.
Michael raised his hand, and soft holy light began to flow from Ace into her body.
He was trying to restore this frail body to health.
...
Portgas D. Rouge opened her eyes again and found herself standing at the edge of a cliff on Baterilla Island.
This was...
The place where she and Roger had first met and fallen in love.
"Rouge, it's been a long time."
"You should be dead, Roger." Rouge felt an unprecedented calm as she turned and looked once again at the man who had changed her life.
"The fact that we can see each other now means Michael kept his promise and brought my message to you."
After speaking, Roger gently wrapped his arms around her.
Gentle. Weightless.
Utterly without substance.
It really was just a dream.
"The child will be born soon."
But even knowing that, Rouge still nestled deeper into the illusion of his arms.
As if doing so might let her absorb some nonexistent warmth from the void.
"I wonder what kind of person he'll become?"
"That's something Garp will have to worry about."
Roger laughed brightly, but a hint of regret lingered in his voice.
"I've never feared death... but I do regret not being able to watch my son grow up."
"I might be the most irresponsible parent the world has ever seen."
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