Somewhere in the North Blue...
"Another pirate who got scared off by the Roger Pirates and crawled back from the Grand Line," Gangplank muttered, clearly annoyed. "These cowards still dare call themselves pirates? By the way, Boss, who even is this Roger you keep mentioning?"
"Roger?" Roy leaned back lazily and cracked a smile. "That man's a bit like you—uses a cutlass and a pistol, but he's more skilled with the sword. You'll see his picture next time we get a newspaper. He's also a lot better looking than you."
In the far corner of a bloodstained pirate ship, a man named Ditra, once a feared pirate with a 66 million berry bounty, now cowered in terror—his arms wrapped around his head, trying to disappear into the shadows. Under the blanket of night, the two figures standing before him exuded a bloodlust even more terrifying than Gol D. Roger himself.
"Please spare me!" Ditra wailed. "You have no idea how terrifying Roger truly is—that's why you're saying that nonsense! But... I—I can worship your Holy Light! Please, Lord Roy, spare me!"
Why are all terrifying people named Roy?
This was the second time Ditra had felt such utter despair in his life, and both times, a man named Roy had been responsible. Now, add a guy named Gangplank to the mix, and it was downright nightmarish.
"Remember," Roy said, ignoring the plea, "don't shoot him in the head."
"You got it, boss. I promise I'll leave only the head." Gangplank grinned wickedly.
BANG.
A spray of blood erupted from Ditra's neck. Sure enough—his head remained intact, and only his head.
Roy and Gangplank continued slowly drifting toward the Grand Line. They weren't in a hurry—most days, Roy lounged on his deck chair, basking in the sea breeze. He only moved when they docked for a drink or encountered another pirate crew.
In most battles, Roy didn't even need to lift a finger—Gangplank handled everything.
In the past month alone, they'd taken down over ten pirate crews, swapping ships several times along the way.
Roy's stat growth so far:
[Paladin Power Level: 52%]
[Awakener Level: 51 (11% EXP)]
[Weapon Mastery – Ashbringer: 31.5%]
[Haste (affects all speed-related stats): 113%]
All of this was earned through battles and achievements. He hadn't spent a single Holy Light Point yet.
[Remaining Holy Light Points: 36]
[Unused Skill Points: 15]
"So stingy..." Roy muttered. "After so many fights, I only earned this much? How the hell am I supposed to hit 5,000 Holy Light Points to summon another follower?"
He shook his head. "Next summon—definitely going for a babe."
Hanging out with this guy all day wasn't exactly thrilling. Honestly, he'd rather be zoning out or arguing with the system than listening to Gangplank talk.
And talk he did—nonstop. Every. Single. Day.
Roy often had the urge to disintegrate him on the spot.
Still, Gangplank wasn't all bad. He had a head for money—every bit of income and expense was tracked to the last coin. He hated paper currency and converted all their cash into gold and silver coins. Right now, their ship's hold carried five chests of silver and three of gold. Roy had no idea how much that totaled—he left money matters to Gangplank. The guy was reliable that way.
Ever since that painful 50 million bounty mishap, Gangplank had formed a new habit—collecting bounty posters. He now had posters for practically every pirate in the North Blue.
Also, ever since they'd seized their current ship—a 100-meter-long war galleon—Gangplank had somehow gotten his hands on dozens of orange trees and planted them on the deck. Now Roy could enjoy fresh, juicy oranges whenever he pleased.
Lying back on his chair, peeling one lazily, Roy muttered, "Oranges and gold... is that what all navigators are into?"
---
One week later
Marine Headquarters, Marineford
Kuzan handed a bounty poster to Fleet Admiral Sengoku, then laced his hands behind his head.
"He took down another one. Didn't bother claiming the bounty though—guy's head was blown off. Looked like a pretty brutal fight. Marines in the North Blue found what was left of the body."
Lately, the Marines had been closely tracking Roy's movements. Wherever he passed, local patrols would double back and sweep the area. Occasionally, they lost track, but they were trying.
This time, the victim was Pisler Royer, a Logia-type Muck-Muck Fruit user with a 73 million bounty. His body had been shredded, leaving only the lower half of his jaw. If not for his bloody ID tag, they wouldn't have known who it was.
"Was it a hard-fought win, or a complete stomp?" Sengoku asked, brows furrowed.
"No way to tell," Kuzan replied. "Not a single pirate corpse was in one piece. Honestly, I don't think Roy himself lifted a finger. It was probably his companion."
He slid a photo across the desk—Gangplank's profile, captured from a surviving Rocket Pirates crewman. In the shot, Gangplank was mid-fire, flames bursting from his enormous flintlock as he executed Houston.
"He's got a partner?" Sengoku raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, and he's brutal. Calls himself the 'Scourge of the Seas.' Probably the one doing all the dirty work recently," Kuzan said, grabbing his coat.
[Judicator: Roy]
[Scourge of the Seas: Gangplank]
The infamous bounty hunter duo tearing through the North Blue.
Relentless. Ruthless. Survivors reported that anyone they targeted—even pirate officers—never made it out alive. Only the lowly cooks and shipwrights were spared.
Roy's signature was a massive, strange-looking greatsword. Gangplank's was obvious: a monstrous flintlock the size of a cannon and a beard braided like a rope.
[Estimated combat level: Elite Vice Admiral]
[Threat level: Approaching Admiral Tier]
This assessment came directly from Zephyr.
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door, followed by the familiar voice of Vice Admiral Tsuru.
"It's me."
Sengoku let her in and set the Roy dossier aside.
"Worried about that Roy kid again?" Tsuru asked, settling into the seat across from him.
"Yeah," Sengoku admitted. "I just have a bad feeling... he might become another Roger someday."
Tsuru chuckled softly. "Well, at least right now, he's killing pirates for us. No need to stress just yet. I actually came with more urgent news."
She pulled out a file. "Dr. Vegapunk's research team has officially joined the World Government. But one of his former colleagues—Vinsmoke Judge—escaped. The government wants to keep this quiet and deal with him discreetly when the time is right."
Sengoku rubbed his temples. "That guy? The one who used to work with Vegapunk? Yeah, I don't trust him either. Not the type to serve under anyone—not even the World Government."
"Exactly," Tsuru nodded. "Are we putting out a bounty?"
Vegapunk and Judge had been conducting illegal biological research—experiments banned by the government. If Judge couldn't be controlled, he would have to be erased. He simply knew too much.
"We can't let the world know he exists," she said quietly.
"Any idea where he might be hiding?" she added after a pause.
"North Blue, probably," Sengoku replied. "He's royalty there. He's likely holed up in his old stronghold."
Tsuru shook her head. "Too obvious. He knows we'll search North Blue thoroughly. I think he's hiding somewhere in the Grand Line."
She stood, brushing down her coat. "Anyway, this whole matter will be handled internally by the Government. What we do need to focus on is Roger. You're probably going to be deployed soon."
Sengoku crossed his arms. "Garp's probably foaming at the mouth already. The guy gets way too excited every time he hears Roger's name."