The massive whirlpool was slowly subsiding, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and long-awaited sunlight bathed the Oro Jackson's deck, though it couldn't dispel the lingering scent of blood and gunpowder in the air.
On the sea's surface, the surviving ships dragged their battered hulls away in all directions, scattered and in disarray.
Kyle leaned against the ship's rail, observing from afar.
He saw "Golden Lion" Shiki standing on the bow of a floating ship, laughing maniacally at the empty sea, his laughter filled with madness and unwillingness; he saw Charlotte Linlin looking around frantically, calling Kaido's name but receiving no response, her eyes fierce enough to devour people; he also saw Edward Newgate standing silently at the bow of a small boat, his back like a mountain.
The Rocks Pirates—this behemoth that had once made the entire world struggle to breathe—had completely fallen apart today.
Well, everyone was putting on an act—only Rocks got his ass kicked!
"Boys! I'm back!"
A voice full of vigor, sunshine, and heroism broke the silence on deck.
Everyone whipped around to see Roger, covered in blood, climbing aboard the Oro Jackson from a piece of driftwood.
THUD!
Roger collapsed on deck along with his sword, but he casually got up, spread his arms wide, and flashed a smile brighter than the sun itself. "Let's have a feast!"
"Captain!" "Roger!"
The crew members rushed forward, helping him up with many hands.
Rayleigh frowned and pulled bandages from his pocket: "You idiot, at least treat your wounds first... never mind, forget I said anything." He skillfully gave Roger emergency first aid while the latter had already eagerly grabbed a barrel of rum and started chugging it down.
The exhaustion and pain from battle seemed to be swept away in this moment by the joy of victory.
The deck was quickly filled with barrels of alcohol and roasted meat. The injured crew members found places to sit, treating their wounds while loudly discussing that heart-stopping battle.
"Haha, you should have seen Rocks' expression at the end—it was absolutely priceless!"
"That old bastard Garp's punch was really something, too. I felt the island's tremors reach all the way to our ship!"
"But when it comes to who gained the most this time..."
Gaban was bandaging his arm, casting a meaningful glance toward Kyle, who was leisurely sipping orange juice in the corner. "I'd say it was probably our 'hunting specialist' here?"
Everyone's attention immediately focused on Kyle and the mountain-like pile of sacks behind him.
Roger drained the entire barrel in one go, wiped his mouth, and laughed heartily: "Guhahahaha! You're absolutely right! Kyle, you little bastard, well done! While we were fighting for our lives, you went and cleaned out the Celestial Dragons' entire household!"
Kyle shrugged with a matter-of-fact expression: "Leave professional work to the professionals. You handle the fighting, I handle getting rich—it's called tactical division of labor."
That's right—Roger just needed to take down Rocks, but Kyle had to consider much more.
"Cut the crap! Open them up and let's see what goodies you got!" Gaban couldn't contain himself any longer, rubbing his hands together like a fly as he crowded over.
"Yeah! Open them up!"
"Let me see what's in the Celestial Dragons' treasury!"
Amid everyone's cheering, Kyle smiled and kicked the sacks: "Alright, alright, everyone gets a share."
The crew let out a cheer and immediately crowded around.
Glittering Berries, gorgeous jewelry, diamond-encrusted art pieces... various treasures were dumped on deck like garbage, sparkling enticingly in the sunlight and nearly blinding everyone.
"We're rich!"
"Now I can get new weapons!"
The crew members excitedly dove into the treasure pile like a bunch of happy prairie dogs.
Kyle couldn't be bothered to manage them, letting them divide up the spoils as they pleased. His gaze swept over those ornate boxes—most of them he had "borrowed" from the Celestial Dragons, filled with nothing but gold and silver trinkets.
Kyle: I'm not interested in money! (In a pony voice)
However, just then, Roger was trying to pry open a particularly luxurious-looking box inlaid with pearls and gold.
"Hey, why is this box so heavy? There's definitely something big inside!" he called out, attracting several companions to help.
"One, two, three, open!"
Several people worked together to lift the heavy lid. The expected mountain of gold didn't appear. The box was lined with soft velvet, and in the center of this luxurious fabric, something lay quietly.
It wasn't a gem, wasn't a Devil Fruit, and wasn't any historical poneglyph.
It was a sleeping baby.
The baby's cheeks were rosy red, its little mouth slightly open, with a head of vivid, flame-like red hair that stood out particularly prominently in the luxurious treasure box.
The noise on deck came to an abrupt halt.
Everyone was stunned, their gazes fixed on that box and the red-haired baby inside.
Time seemed to freeze.
"..."
"..."
"Kyle————!!"
Rayleigh was the first to react, practically roaring Kyle's name.
"You bastard! You're even stealing babies now?!"
"Wha—?! You're slandering me!"
Kyle was just as stunned. He threw up both hands with a helpless look.
"This wasn't me! How was I supposed to know there was a baby inside?!"
He hurried over to the crate and peered inside.
And then… he saw it—that unmistakable fiery red hair.
In an instant, it was like lightning had struck him. His mind went completely blank.
No way... that red hair… that legendary red hair!
He had raided God Valley, hunted Celestial Dragons, cleaned out their treasures, witnessed Rocks fall, and Roger rise...
But now, fate had hit him with the most absurd twist of all—
He wasn't just a witness.
He looked at the baby in the box—
The one who would grow up to be the Red-Haired Emperor.
The one who would inherit Roger's hat and pass it to Luffy.
The one who would end the Marineford War with nothing but a single glare.
Then he looked down at his own hands—still dusty from the loot.
Kyle got the MVP. The rest of the Roger Pirates? Total carry.