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The frame held then the barrage flared again, skimming like whitecaps over the image:
"Wait—Shakky? That Shakky?!"
"Boss lady of the Shabondy rip-off bar?!"
"No way she was more popular than Gloriosa back then—right?"
"Think about it: even now she hasn't lost her figure. Kinda tracks."
"If that's true… Brook basically hit the jackpot, skull emoji."
The video rolled.
Gloriosa still fumed over Shakky's mail mountain when the sea itself seemed to rise. A ship cut hard across the swell, sails fat with wind Oro Jackson.
The Jolly Roger left no doubt.
"I'm Roger!"
"I'm Roger!"
"Stand down, Kuja Pirates!"
The voice boomed across the water, loud, impatient, and entirely Roger's.
Gloriosa's cheeks flushed; she hid her face for half a second like a flustered schoolgirl until the next line detonated her mood.
"Today I'm here to make you—"
"—Hand over Vice-Captain Shakky!"
Gloriosa's smile snapped.
"Roger! You again!"
"I'm right here and not enough for you?!"
The Oro Jackson and Perfume Yuda slid abreast, hull to hull. Ropes thudded home. Roger lifted a hand like a banner.
"Crew—with me!"
"We're taking Shakky aboard!"
He vaulted first coat, snapping, landing on Kuja planks with a thud. Roger Pirates poured after him; Kuja warriors surged to meet them. Steel rang. Heels skidded. The deck became a storm.
A cabin door blew open with a single, casual kick.
A voice drifted out low and amused.
"You're taking who, exactly?"
Fighting stopped as if the world had frozen a second time. Every gaze swung to the doorway.
"Aaah—Lady Shakky!" the Kuja cried.
"It's her!" the Roger Pirates sighed, hearts turning into punctuation.
Roger craned for a glimpse nearly climbing over his own men.
The narrator returned, velvet and merciless:
"They say her smallest gesture was temptation."
"Flowers dimmed by her shadow; birds forgot their songs."
"Strong men became fools; rivals turned graceless."
She stepped into daylight.
Ink-dark hair, a languid cigarette balanced at her lips; a cropped jacket carelessly buttoned just once; a short slit skirt with the Kuja sigil; long red heels that ticked like a metronome on wood click, click.
Every motion was a conversation she didn't have to speak.
Shakky, Vice-Captain of the Kuja.
[Gol D. Roger]: "Shakky! The young you still perfect! I missed this so much!"
[Rocks D. Xebec]: "Tch. Can't deny it, she could topple fleets by smiling."
[Edward Newgate]: "Gurarara~ Back then, no man walked past her unmoved."
[Shiki]: "Regret of a lifetime—never won her over."
[Big Mom]: "Mama-mama~ You boys haven't changed at all."
[Boa Sandersonia]: "That's really Senior Shakky? Gorgeous…"
[Boa Marigold]: "If Granny Nyon was one-tenth of our sister's beauty, Senior Shakky was… equal footing with Sister herself!"
[Usopp]: "So the knockout from the bar… was this knockout?!"
[Sanji]: "Aaaah! If only I'd been born earlier!"
[Brook]: "To have asked such a beauty about her panties truly, I can die content! Yohoho already dead!"
Shakky moved through the parted crowd, accepting none of the thrust-forward flowers, ignoring the hands that almost reached for her and thought better under Kuja's glares.
She stopped before a long-haired man with twin axes.
"Ara~ Ara ~ Scopper Gaban," she purred.
Gaban went weak at the knees simply hearing his name.
Her leg flashed clean, fast, decisive thunk. The future left arm of the Pirate King sailed across the deck, skidding to a halt among coiled lines.
Roger's teeth clicked.
"You kicked Gaban—!"
He charged, fury painted on like stage makeup. Shakky looked up, eyes half-lidded; the cigarette traced a tiny, glowing arc.
"Long time no see, Roger."
The anger melted right off his face. The Pirate King forgot the script.
Her leg rose again whap.
Roger, future legend, present disaster, flipped backward and landed in a heap at the hem of her skirt. A welt swelled on his forehead; his pupils turned into cartoon hearts.
"Ahhh—Shakky!"
"I like you so much!"
Freeze-frame.
Barrage comments cannoned across the sky:
"Peak Roger down bad, powered by haki and hope."
"Gaban: flies business class off the deck."
"Shakky speedruns 'shut up and fall in line.'"
"This is why the title is [Repressed King]. Case. Closed."
"Somebody get the man a cold towel and a therapist."
[Dimensional Chat Group System]:
[Playback Note: Exhibit A supporting title assignment Gol D. Roger — Repressed King.]
[Criteria referenced: Persistent pursuit; public loss of composure; repeated defeat without deterrence.]
The decks exhaled.
Kuja blades lowered. Roger Pirates pretended they hadn't just been dazzled senseless. And Shakky, without breaking stride, walked past the flowers, the flustered men, and the history she kept neatly filed behind her eyes.
Somewhere in the crowd, Rayleigh hid a smile he would deny later.
And on his back, Roger grinned up at the sky like a fool in love because he was.
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Thank you so much for your support and for reading!