"Hey, hey, what kind of joke is this?" Jabba was the first one to break the heavy silence. "You just became the Pirate King, and now you're kicking your loyal crew to the curb? You're being way too stingy, Captain!"
"Yeah, exactly! I haven't even earned enough to open my own bar yet!" another crewmate shouted, but the usual smile was missing from his face.
"I haven't even saved up enough for the ten wives I was planning on!"
"Stupid Captain! Are you drunk and just spouting nonsense?"
The deck of the ship erupted into noise once again. But this time, the usual fearless spirit of the crew was gone. It was replaced by a hollow feeling, an emptiness that everyone was desperately trying to hide with loud boasts and complaints. They were all shouting ridiculous things, acting as if the louder they were, the more they could fill the growing hole in their hearts.
Roger looked at his men, at these friends who were trying so hard to be tough. He saw their red-rimmed eyes and the way they forced themselves to stand in relaxed poses, and he knew he didn't need to explain anything more.
He simply grinned, flashing his signature, wide smile, and then lifted a heavy barrel of sake high into the air.
"Kuhahaha! In that case, let's drink! Before we all go our separate ways, let's have one last party with me, your stingy Captain!"
"Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"Cheers!"
The familiar sound of mugs clinking together echoed across the deck, and sake foam splashed everywhere. But this time was different. Everyone knew, deep in their hearts, that this was the end. This ship, which had been their home, was now on its final countdown.
The journey back was no longer a race toward an adventure; it became a long, drawn-out farewell. The Oro Jackson didn't speed through the waves with a clear destination in mind as it had on the way to the final island. Instead, it sailed slowly, almost lazily, like a wise old man taking his time to say a proper goodbye to each of his children before leaving them for good.
The next morning, the thick sea fog still lingered in the air. Roger stepped out of his cabin with a small bag slung over his back, looking as casual as if he were just heading out for a short walk. He walked directly over to where Shanks was standing.
The young boy kept his head down, his lips pressed together in a tight line. He didn't say a word. It looked like he had a thousand things he wanted to say, but he couldn't force a single one out.
Roger looked down at him and suddenly smiled a gentle smile. He untied the straw hat from around his neck—the very same hat that had been with him through countless storms and battles—and carefully placed it on Shanks's bright red hair.
"This... is for you."
The straw hat was a little too big for the boy, and it slipped down, covering his eyes. Shanks's whole body trembled. He slowly raised a hand and gripped the brim of the hat tightly.
"This is an important promise between us, Shanks."
Shanks didn't reply. He just nodded his head over and over again, his small shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Buggy stood nearby, watching the whole scene unfold. His eyes were filled with envy, and he couldn't stop himself from clenching his fists. He quickly turned his head away, crossed his arms over his chest, and started muttering quietly to himself.
"Hmph, it's just a stupid straw hat. What's so great about it, anyway? I, the great Buggy, don't care about stuff like that."
He tried to convince himself that the Captain must have saved the best gifts for the people he cared about the most. That red-haired brat was just a tag-along, but he was destined to rule the seas. He didn't need some sentimental old hat.
Just as Buggy was about to fully convince himself, Roger suddenly slapped his own forehead. "Ah, right, I almost forgot."
He turned around, and as Buggy watched with a stunned expression, Roger pulled something out from inside his coat. It was an old, ancient-looking dagger. The sheath was made from the tough hide of a sea beast, and a small, sparkling gem was set into the handle. Even with the blade still in its sheath, you could feel a sharp, powerful energy coming from it.
"This is for you, Buggy," Roger said as he pushed the dagger into Buggy's arms. "I've been pouring my Haki into this thing for a long time, so it's extremely sharp. It's perfect for picking your teeth… cough… or for ambushing people. Kuhahaha! It suits you, don't you think?"
Buggy held the dagger, which was still slightly warm from Roger's body, and stood completely frozen. He could feel that this was no ordinary weapon; it still held traces of Roger's overwhelming Haki.
"Who… who wants your junk, Captain!" Buggy's face turned as red as his nose, but he was too stubborn to admit it. "My flying knives are the strongest! This little toy… well, I guess I'll reluctantly take it!"
He clumsily tucked the dagger inside his shirt, handling it as if it were the most precious treasure in the world, while still muttering, "What a pain." His classic act managed to lighten the heavy, sad atmosphere on the deck, at least for a moment.
Roger laughed loudly and then walked around, patting the shoulders of the remaining crew members one by one.
"Rayleigh, I'm counting on you to look after things from now on."
"Ah, don't worry about it." Rayleigh simply adjusted his glasses. His eyes, hidden behind the lenses, were as calm and steady as ever. "As for you, just try not to cause me any more trouble."
"Jabba, try to drink a little less. Be careful you don't actually end up dying in a barrel of sake one day! No one will be around to find your body then!"
"You bastard! You should be worrying about yourself!" Jabba shouted back, his eyes turning incredibly red. "Even if I die, I'll take a few Marine Admirals down with me! Don't you dare die some pathetic death!"
Finally, Roger turned to Kyle.
"Kyle, thank you," he said with a serious tone. "Even though we couldn't see this journey through to the very end together, we never would have made it there without you."
Kyle's lips moved, but in the end, he only managed to say a few words. "Bon voyage, Captain."
Roger nodded and said nothing more. He turned and confidently walked down the gangplank, stepping off the ship and onto solid ground.
"Hey! Captain! Pirates don't cry! Don't you dare go secretly wiping away tears!"
"That's right! If you cry, you can't be the Pirate King anymore!"
"Get lost! You bastard Captain!"
Shouts, whistles, and laughter all mixed together, echoing across the entire port. Everyone was saying the kindest goodbyes in the roughest way they knew how. They all shouted, "The Roger Pirates never shed tears," but there wasn't a single person whose eyes weren't red, whose voice wasn't choked with emotion.
Rayleigh took off his glasses and wiped them furiously, as if trying to clean off a fog that wouldn't go away.
Jabba threw his head back and took a massive gulp of sake, letting the strong liquor burn his throat, doing anything to keep the tears in his eyes from falling.
Shanks pulled his new straw hat down even lower, but tears still dripped from the brim and splashed onto the wooden deck.
Buggy, clutching the dagger to his chest, cried like a small child, with snot and tears smearing all over his painted face.
Roger never slowed his pace. He didn't even flinch. He just kept walking, one step at a time, moving farther away from the ship he considered his life and the crew he considered his family.
Only when he reached the very end of the pier, just as he was about to turn a corner and disappear from their sight forever, did Roger finally stop. He stood with his back to the Oro Jackson, his back to all of his comrades, and raised his left hand high into the air, clenching it into a tight fist.
His silhouette was as imposing as it had always been, looking as if he could hold up the entire sky by himself. No one on that ship could see the expression on the face of the Pirate King, who had just turned his back on the world.
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