When the Roger Pirates' ship reappeared at Water 7's harbor, the atmosphere aboard was completely different from their arrival.
Gone were the initial amazement and clamor, replaced by a silence mixed with smoldering anger and resolute determination. Sunlight fell on the massive timber pieces at the deck's center, the Treasure Tree Adam radiating a warm, sacred glow.
The crew silently went about their duties, though their eyes would unconsciously drift toward that pile of wood, then invariably turn to Roger standing at the bow.
The captain's silhouette remained as reliable as ever, but his usual overflowing boldness had settled into something deeper and more imposing.
"We're back," Rayleigh's voice was soft, breaking the deck's quiet.
Roger didn't turn around, merely hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on the massive shipyard in the distance.
When their group shouldered those enormous timber pieces and entered Tom's shipyard again, the "clang clang" of hammering and hearty laughter came to an abrupt halt.
All the shipwrights stopped their work, staring in amazement at these pirates who'd returned, and at the obviously extraordinary wood on their shoulders.
"Hey! You guys..." A young shipwright started forward but was stopped by a massive palm on his shoulder.
Tom slowly approached, his bell-like voice unusually subdued: "Boys, what is this..."
His words caught in his throat the moment he clearly saw the timber.
The world's greatest shipwright's signature hearty smile vanished. He stepped forward, silently extending his rough hands to gently, almost reverently caress the Treasure Tree Adam's surface.
He knocked with his knuckles, listening intently to the steady, crisp resonance, closing his eyes as if communing with the wood's soul.
The entire shipyard fell silent except for Tom's heavy breathing.
"Wa ha ha... Wa ha ha ha ha!"
After a brief silence, Tom erupted in louder laughter than ever before.
"You bunch of... bastards! You actually got your hands on it! DON!" Tom punched his own chest with a dull thud.
He stared hard at Roger, those large eyes burning with fierce flames: "Well done! You're worthy of a ship built by my own hands!"
Tom turned to face Roger with unprecedented seriousness: "Kid, getting this proves your caliber! I keep my word—I'll build this ship for you free of charge! DON!"
He paused, breaking into a wide grin filled with creative desire: "But! A ship made from Treasure Tree Adam can't be some half-hearted knock-off! It must be a one-of-a-kind king! So tell me, what kind of ship do you want?"
This question immediately energized the Roger Pirates. Tom led them to a massive workshop, gathering around a table spread with enormous white paper.
"First, it needs to be big! Big enough for all of us, and for the best parties!" Roger slammed his palm on the table, spittle flying.
"Sturdy hull and deck for my training," Rayleigh added, fingers habitually rubbing his sword hilt.
"Kitchen! The kitchen must be huge! And a storm-resistant wine cellar!" Gaban's eyes gleamed.
"My inventions need a dedicated workshop!" Bankuro pushed forward, too.
"I... I want a bed where Millet-senpai's snoring won't wake me..." Nozdon weakly raised his hand.
"What did you say?!" Millet's beard bristled.
Everyone talked over each other, arguing from weapon storage design to how many toilets there should be, descending into chaos. Master Tom watched with interest, arms crossed.
"Everyone, quiet!" Roger's roar silenced the crowd. He looked at Tom with crystal-clear eyes: "Tom, the ship I want isn't just a collection of rooms and planks. I want a ship... that can laugh with us! A partner that can carry our dreams, break through any storm, and reach the world's end!"
These words mentioned no specific design details, yet silenced everyone present.
Tom's smile also faded as he looked at Roger, as if trying to know this man anew.
"...A ship that laughs?" Tom murmured, then his eyes blazed with astonishing light. "Interesting! Too interesting! DON!"
"A ship meant to conquer the seas must first understand how to dance with them." A clear voice spoke up.
Everyone looked toward the speaker—Kyle. He approached the table, dipped his finger in water, and lightly traced across the table surface.
The water stain seemed to come alive under his fingertip's guidance, sometimes forming gentle waves, sometimes creating small whirlpools.
"The ship's keel is its spine, the hull its muscles. If its lines can flow with the waves rather than fight them, then the sea becomes assistance rather than resistance."
Kyle spoke while using the water to sketch smooth, beautiful hull curves. "It would make us faster and more stable."
He used no technical terms, but the intuitive demonstration made everyone understand.
Tom's eyes brightened as he slapped his thigh: "Exactly! Kid, you hit the nail on the head! Using the waves' power... wa ha ha ha!"
"Not just dancing," Kyle smiled, looking at Roger. "The captain wants a ship that 'laughs.' Laughter needs sound. A king's ship should have a distinctive roar, too."
He pointed toward the bow: "Why not integrate the main cannon with the figurehead? Let every shot sound like the ship laughing boldly at the sea!"
"Mount the cannon at the bow?!"
This wild idea instantly ignited everyone's imagination.
Roger was stunned, then burst into thunderous laughter: "Gu ha ha ha! Well said, Kyle! Exactly! A ship that laughs with cannons! That's worthy of us!"
Tom's breathing grew heavy, his eyes burning with creative fire as if his very blood was ablaze.
He grabbed a massive charcoal pencil and began frantically sketching on the spread paper.
Flowing lines, bold concepts—Roger's dreams, Kyle's inspiration, the crew's wishes all merged under his pen.
The prototype of an unprecedented pirate ship leaped onto paper, with a deck broad enough for giants, an elegant yet powerful streamlined hull, and a majestic golden bow with beautiful twin maiden figureheads.
"It... it's like it's alive..." Nozdon whispered.
Everyone was deeply moved by the vitality and kingly aura radiating from the ship on paper.
Roger looked at the blueprint, his eyes shining with unprecedented light. He caressed the faintly golden-glowing Treasure Tree Adam beside him, as if already seeing it cutting through wind and waves.
"Let's call it..." Roger's voice filled with power and joy as he announced word by word: "The 'Oro Jackson'! The golden ship carrying all of us!"
"The Oro Jackson..." Rayleigh repeated the name, lips curving in a smile.
"Wooooo!" The crew erupted in thunderous cheers.
"Good! Great name!" Tom slammed the charcoal pencil on the table with a loud bang. "That settles it! I, Tom, stake my reputation as the world's greatest shipwright to build you this king's ship!"
He turned, taking a massive hammer and a long nail from the tool rack, walking to the shipyard's center, where space was reserved for laying the keel.
"Watch closely!" Tom roared, raising the hammer high. "This is the king's first heartbeat! DON!"
"Clang—!"
The clear, resonant hammer strike echoed throughout Water 7, announcing to the world that a new legend was beginning.
Kyle stood behind the crowd watching this scene worthy of the history books, his heart surging with emotion.
He knew this ship would carry these free souls to complete that unprecedented journey on the Grand Line, reach the final island, and unveil the world's secrets.
And he wasn't just a witness to this legend—he was a participant who'd personally added a crucial stroke.
Damn... this was exciting!