Ten years had passed. To the ever-shifting tides of the Grand Line, a decade was but the flick of a finger—yet for a youth, it was long enough to mature, and for a legend, long enough to ferment.
The deck of the Oro Jackson was even more vibrant and crowded than it had been a decade ago. Laughter, shouts, and the clash of playful competition filled the air. At this very moment, the crew had organized a unique "Strength Competition", pitting the ship's mightiest against one another.
"Ugh… ugh… ah! Ah! Ah!"
Sanbel, a towering blue Fishman over three meters in height, groaned as he locked arms with Nozdon. Their muscles bulged like mountains under straining skin, and the deck beneath their feet groaned in protest. Sanbel had been "picked up" from Fish-Man Island three years prior, a simple and honest powerhouse whose strength had earned him instant respect.
Nearby, a man named Yui, hair like flames shooting skyward and dressed in a high-collared black robe, sat cross-legged atop a crate, completely absorbed in meditation. He seemed oblivious to the chaos around him, isolated in his own world of thought. Beside him, Eye Dragon, whose jagged hairstyle resembled Godzilla's dorsal fins, methodically polished a naginata taller than himself with a coarse cloth.
Meanwhile, Max, a burly man with a thick beard reminiscent of a philosopher from Kyle's previous life, waved his arms as he lectured Spencer, spittle flying.
"…So, the Berries issued by the World Government are essentially an invisible exploitation of the labor of the people in their Joint nations! The system is rotten to its core!"
"Max, I admit your point has some merit," Spencer replied, adjusting his glasses, "but you overlook currency as a measure of value and a medium of exchange…"
Not wasting a second, Dolinger, a miniature man with small devil wings sprouting from his back, snatched a large roasted meat from the galley. He expertly dodged the furious chef, fluttering to the crossbeam above the main mast to feast in peace.
Over the ship's rail, Jialan, clad in ancient Greek-style bronze armor, performed one-handed handstands, sweat dripping and soaking the deck below.
The crew had grown to nearly thirty in number. Lowengu, Ellio, Conchino, and others had joined from all corners of the world, each with a distinct personality, a powerful ability, and a story waiting to be told.
Over the past ten years, this ship had carried countless stories of laughter and tears, witnessing the formation of bonds that could withstand even the fiercest storms.
Kyle leaned casually against the stern railing, eyes sweeping over the familiar chaos with a faint, knowing smile. Approaching twenty years of age, the awkwardness of youth had long left him behind. His ink-black, medium-length hair was tied back simply, a few strands framing his face, lending him an air of casual confidence. His golden pupils shimmered, deeper and more intense than they had been a decade ago.
Though still the youngest veteran aboard the Oro Jackson, Kyle's presence commanded respect. New and old crew members alike understood that behind his gentle, easygoing demeanor was one of the ship's top-ranking monsters, capable of delivering both guidance and overwhelming power.
Sometimes, his calm judgment brought a greater sense of security to his companions than the "hot-blooded idiot" Captain Roger, whose heart thrived on charging headlong into danger and seeking adventure.
"Kyle!"
A young crew member, Ellio, ran up to him, eyes bright with admiration. "Could you tell me again how you used 'Azure Dragon's Roar' to make everyone fly across the Water 7 sea back then?"
Kyle chuckled, hands resting on his hips, wearing a smug, yet profound, smile. "A hero doesn't boast about past glories. If you want stories, go to Nozdon—he can tell you a hundred versions."
A sharp chirp cut through the conversation. A news bird swooped down from the sky, dropping the latest newspapers and a stack of newly printed wanted posters onto the deck.
"Oh! Here they come!"
The crew instantly abandoned their previous activities. Max stopped mid-debate, Jialan ended his handstand, and everyone scrambled to claim the news of the latest bounties.
Roger snatched a few pages, his eyes scanning the numbers before erupting into his signature hearty laughter. "Kuhahaha! One billion five hundred million Berries! Those World Government fools finally got it right!"
Rayleigh calmly took his poster, glanced at the twelve digits, and smiled faintly. No surprise, he thought; he had already anticipated such a reward.
Jabba picked up his own wanted poster, wiping his axe as he grinned. "One billion one hundred million Berries, not bad at all," he said, clearly satisfied.
All eyes then turned to the remaining high-value poster.
"Kyle… one billion Berries!" Punk Rock gasped, staggering slightly as the number sank in.
Kyle walked through the cheering crowd to retrieve his poster. The image captured him mid-battle, his sharp gaze fixed on an unseen enemy, wielding his naginata with deadly precision. Beneath his youthful yet imposing face, the number glowed like a beacon: 1,000,000,000 Berries.
He had become the fourth member of the ship with a bounty in the ten-digit range.
"As expected of Mr. Kyle!"
"So cool!"
The new recruits gawked in awe, whispering excitedly. Kyle smiled, folding the wanted poster casually into his pocket. His gaze drifted across the endless blue horizon, calm yet filled with latent power. Around him, companions continued celebrating, boasting, and laughing. Roger was already plotting a banquet in honor of their achievements.
Yet Kyle's thoughts wandered back to that fateful afternoon over ten years ago. He remembered the first wanted poster he had ever seen: a youthful face, an amount that had seemed modest even then—1,500,000 Berries.
From that meager bounty to a staggering one billion, ten years had passed. He had survived countless life-or-death battles, faced enemies of unimaginable strength, and built bonds with companions he could trust with his life.
A gentle sea breeze tousled the tie at the back of his hair. Kyle exhaled quietly, his golden eyes reflecting nostalgia for the past but also burning with anticipation for the future.
The Roger Pirates had already cemented their status as one of the strongest crews on the seas, yet this was only the beginning. Their true journey—their legend—was just starting.
Above the deck, laughter, music, and the clatter of games continued. The Oro Jackson was alive, a floating testament to adventure, camaraderie, and the endless horizon of dreams..
Kyle smiled faintly, a spark of excitement igniting deep within him. A decade of memories had forged the crew into a family, but the seas ahead promised even greater challenges, stronger foes, and boundless opportunities for glory.
And for this young veteran, standing atop the world with golden eyes and a naginata that had seen it all, the next ten years would be nothing short of legendary.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)