The chaotic retreat of the Golden Lion Fleet had left the Oro Jackson crew with an unexpected windfall. Captured rum barrels were stacked high across the deck like miniature mountains, the rich scent of roasted meat mingling with the salty sea breeze. The aroma drifted far, teasing the senses of every sailor aboard.
"Cheers to Kyle's 'Heavenly Tides'!" shouted Ellio, raising a glass.
"Cheers to Captain's 'God Avoidance'!" Jabba bellowed, pounding his fist into his palm.
Laughter erupted as the crew linked arms, voices ringing out in joyous celebration. They had just faced overwhelming power, and yet, through courage, ingenuity, and a dash of sheer luck, they had triumphed.
Kyle leaned against the mast, holding a glass of orange juice. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched his comrades revel in their victory. His mind, however, refused to rest. It replayed the past few days in meticulous detail: the youthful Whitebeard, the haughty Golden Lion Shiki… and now the thrill of having crossed paths with two of the greatest pirates of the era.
It was exhilarating.
It's like starting a game in a quiet village, only to stumble upon two hidden BOSS storylines from the end of the version. The thought made him chuckle silently. Exciting, absurd, and completely impossible—but entirely real.
Rayleigh, noticing Kyle's thoughtful expression, approached and handed him a skewer of grilled fish. "What's on your mind, young man?"
Kyle bit into the skewer, savoring the smoky flavor. "I'm wondering if our logbook is wrong," he muttered. "Other pirates search for treasure or slay monsters. Our adventure… we specifically seek out legendary pirates. Our scope seems… unusually ambitious."
Rayleigh chuckled, shaking his head. "They seek us out themselves, especially Shiki. His ambitions are boundless. Clashing with Roger was inevitable." He glanced at Roger, who was arm-wrestling Jabba in the distance, laughing heartily. "But that's what makes it interesting, isn't it?"
Kyle's gaze softened as he looked at the Pirate King in his element. Yes… that was what made it interesting.
After the feast, the Oro Jackson set sail once more. This time, the destination was unusually clear. The Log Pose's needle remained steadfast, pointing straight ahead. Its unwavering direction suggested that the journey's end—or at least, the next milestone—was near.
Excitement permeated the ship.
"Nozdon! When we reach the Final Island, I'll announce to the world that we are the first to circumnavigate the Grand Line!" Ellio shouted, arms outstretched, as if embracing the glory that awaited them.
"I'm going to find the most beautiful girl and tell her I'm a crew member of the Pirate King!" Nozdon added with gleeful anticipation.
"Pirate King?" Jabba grinned. "That's a title worth claiming. When we arrive, Captain, you should wear it proudly."
"Kuhahaha! Sounds mighty!" Roger accepted their words with his trademark brazen grin.
Amidst the laughter and plans, Kyle quietly leaned against the rail, feeling the warm sea wind brush against his face. The Log Pose's direction was not the true end, yet he let himself be carried by the crew's pure joy. After all, being present in such historic moments—witnessing the birth of legends firsthand—was a reward in itself.
Weeks passed as the Oro Jackson cut through the endless waves. Then, Dolinger's almost-strained cry pierced the air from the crow's nest.
"I see it! Land! The island at the end of the Log Pose!"
Shouts of excitement erupted from the deck. Crew members surged to the bow, eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea kissed the sky.
The island that emerged was breathtaking. Countless waterways intertwined like glistening blue ribbons, weaving through dense green forests. At its center, a natural geyser erupted high into the sky, its mist refracting sunlight into a radiant rainbow.
"Water Seven…" Rayleigh murmured, consulting the sea chart. "What a name… what a place."
"Land! Land! Feast time!" Roger shouted, already running toward the shore with arms flailing in excitement.
The Oro Jackson slowly docked, and the crew eagerly leapt onto solid ground. Some kissed the earth, overcome with relief and triumph, while others busied themselves unloading barrels and provisions. They had achieved what many believed impossible: conquering the Grand Line.
Roger laughed heartily, drawing Ace and plunging it into the highest point of the shore, declaring their arrival with unmatched bravado.
But amidst the celebration, a subtle disruption caught Ellio's attention.
"Huh? Captain, Mr. Rayleigh… look at this," he said, pointing toward the Log Pose, now spinning erratically, as if drunk.
The cheers faded abruptly as the crew noticed.
"What's happening?" Jabba frowned, suspicion rising.
Rayleigh quickly produced a spare compass, yet it behaved identically. The air seemed to chill instantly, tension thickening.
They all understood. A malfunctioning Log Pose meant only one thing: there were more islands ahead. The journey was not over.
"You've got to be kidding me…" Nozdon whispered. His smile froze. "Then… where do we go next?"
Their most reliable tool for navigation had failed. Ahead lay unknown waters, uncharted territories.
Then came Roger's laughter—a deep, rumbling, infectious sound. It broke the tension instantly.
"Kuhahaha! Hey, what are those faces for?" Roger called, swinging Ace over his shoulder. "The adventure isn't over! Isn't this even better?"
The crew's confusion melted, replaced by renewed excitement. They were the Roger Pirates, following the freest man in the world. No unknown sea could dampen their spirits.
"You're right!" Jabba roared, clapping his massive hands together. "Let's keep searching!"
"Oh, oh, oh!" the crew responded in unified cheer.
Kyle watched quietly, smiling inwardly. This was the essence of Gol D. Roger: facing the unknown not with fear, but as the beginning of a new adventure. It was this indomitable spirit that had forged the Pirate King.
As the crew prepared to explore Shuixianxing Island, Roger's attention was drawn to an ancient ruin covered in thick vines. His eyes lit up with childlike curiosity.
"Oh? What's this?" he exclaimed, rushing forward. The crew followed, clearing the vines to reveal a massive cave entrance. At the end of the cave stood a colossal, reddish-orange cubic stone.
Rayleigh's eyes widened. "A Poneglyph…" he murmured. "But… I've never seen one like this. Its color is… different."
Kyle felt a surge of excitement. It's here. A road Poneglyph. This is what we've been seeking.
The crew gathered around the stone, intrigued but unable to decipher the ancient script. Roger approached and gently touched its surface. His body stiffened, his usual lightheartedness replaced by intense focus.
"Roger?" Jabba asked, sensing something unusual.
After a long pause, Roger slowly opened his eyes, filled with awe and ecstasy.
"I… heard it," he murmured. "This stone… it speaks."
"Speaks?" Ellio echoed.
"It told me that this island marks the end of the Log Pose… but not the end of the Grand Line. To reach the true Final Island, we must locate four red road Poneglyphs. Each records a location. The center of these points… that is where the Final Island lies. A place no one has ever reached."
The cave was silent. Every crew member stared in stunned disbelief. The Grand Line was far more complex than they had imagined. To conquer it, one needed not just a compass, but the wisdom to interpret ancient secrets.
Roger's laughter then erupted, filling the cave with pride and joy.
"Kuhahaha! So that's it! The world still hides secrets waiting for us!" He drew Ace and pointed toward the sea. "Our journey has just begun!"
He turned to his crew, eyes blazing with determination.
"My lads! Are you ready to find the remaining road Poneglyphs and reach the Final Island? To witness the ultimate treasure of the world with your own eyes?!"
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh—!!!" the crew shouted, their voices echoing off the cave walls.
Kyle stood among them, heart swelling as he looked at Roger, at the ocean, at the boundless sky. This was the beginning of the true adventure.
The voyage to the Final Island, and the discovery of ONE PIECE, was about to commence. The Age of Pirates, as history would remember it, was in their hands.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)