Let me ask you a question: what would a group of three people—two strong young men and one talented four-year-old—do while aimlessly wandering the endless sea in a small boat?
To put it more eloquently, they'd say they were going to "conquer the seas."
In reality, they were nothing more than a bunch of sea vagabonds.
Early morning. The surface of the South Blue shimmered like mother-of-pearl, and the small boat rocked gently with the waves.
On the deck, a black-haired boy with scarlet eyes—Reith—was desperately doing push-ups, breathing heavily.
Sweat trickled down his cheeks and dripped onto the wooden boards. His arms felt like overcooked noodles, trembling faintly from the strain. Reith was exhausted—truly exhausted. More than anything, he hated training Tekkai. Rayleigh hit far too hard.
"One hundred and ninety-nine… two hundred… phew… finally…"
Just as he was about to collapse, a large foot suddenly stepped onto his back
"Oi, isn't that little Wraith?" a lazy voice said. "Who gave you permission to stop? Didn't you say yesterday you wanted to sail the seas freely?"
Reith struggled to lift his head and saw Rayleigh adjusting his glasses as he looked down at him.
"Brother Rayleigh… I'm only four years old…"
"So what?" Rayleigh replied calmly. "Weren't you the one asking me the other day if you were really going to stay half-baked forever? Besides, Roger says he used to chase wild animals all over the island when he was a kid."
"But he was a savage! I'm a normal person!"
"Oh?" Rayleigh raised an eyebrow.
"So you're saying you're weaker than Roger?"
The corner of Reith's mouth twitched.
Provocation!
I'm a man of the new century—I saw through your cheap trick long ago!
"Old man Rayleigh, who exactly are you looking down on?!"
Rayleigh's mouth twitched in return.
He was only twenty-two, yet he'd already grown used to Reith's naming system: Brother Rayleigh when he wanted something, Uncle Rayleigh when he was being polite, and Old Man Rayleigh when he was picking a fight.
"Good. Very good."
"…Two hundred more," Rayleigh added calmly. "If you're not tired, begin."
"Watch closely, old man! A mere two hundred is nothing!"
As Reith continued writhing and grimacing through the push-ups, Rayleigh turned and walked away, satisfied.
At long last, it was over.
Reith collapsed onto the deck, spread-eagle.
"Ku-ha-ha-ha! Reith, today I'll teach you Haki!"
Roger laughed loudly and slapped Reith on the shoulder, nearly sending him crashing through the deck.
Reith snapped back immediately.
"Are you guys training a service dog or something?! Do you seriously have nothing better to do than take turns torturing me?"
"Roger…" Rayleigh sighed from the side. "Are you sure this is a good idea? He can barely hold a sword properly."
"What does that matter?" Roger waved his hand dismissively. "His body's strong enough now. This kid already has all three types of Haki—he just couldn't use them before because his body was too weak. Haki should be trained young!"
Reith rubbed his now-numb shoulder, feeling equal parts anticipation and dread.
I have a very bad feeling about this…
"First," Roger continued enthusiastically, "Armament Haki is the clearest expression of physical strength! Imagine your fist harder than steel!"
He slammed his fist into the deck.
BOOM!
A massive hole instantly appeared.
Reith's mind went blank.
—internal scream,
"...?"
"Go on, try it!" Roger said cheerfully.
Reith clung to Roger's trouser leg and roared, "Do you have any idea how much it costs to fix a ship, you idiot?!"
Don't ask why he grabbed his leg—he simply couldn't reach any higher.
With no other choice, Reith released a cloud of mist to plug the hole. It wasn't very effective, but at least it didn't look completely hopeless.
"Relax," Roger said with a grin. "Someday we'll definitely have our own ship."
"…Fine. I'll try."
Reith took a deep breath, mimicked Roger's stance, coated his palm with Armament Haki, and struck the deck.
Crash!
His hand immediately swelled.
"Shh—ah—ah! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"
Roger burst into laughter. "Not bad! Again!"
Reith bared his teeth like a shark. "Again?!
Don't think I didn't notice—you coated the board with Haki when I hit it!"
Roger casually adjusted his straw hat. "Oh? You noticed?"
"Of course I did! I'll hit it until I break through it for real!"
This is definitely Garp's style of training grandchildren… damn bastard.
Compared to Roger's brute-force approach, Rayleigh's training was far more systematic—but no less cruel.
Days passed in this relentless routine.
The scorching sun beat down as waves crashed against the rocks.
Roger stood on the bow and shouted excitedly, "Oi, Rayleigh! There's an island ahead—let's go check it out!"
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses. "Roger, our supplies are still sufficient. There's no need to waste time. We're saving for a new ship—we can't afford unnecessary expenses."
"Ku-ha-ha-ha! Since when are adventures a waste of time?" Roger laughed, leaping off the boat.
"What if there's treasure? Worst case, we catch some pirates and turn them in for a reward!"
Reith leaned over the side weakly. "Captain… you said the same thing last time. All we found was a nest of biting crabs… though they did taste pretty good."
"This time is different!" Roger slapped his chest confidently, then scooped Reith up under his arm.
"Come on! I'll show you what a real adventure looks like! Adventures should be exciting, right?"
Reith struggled briefly, then gave up.
They pushed through the dense jungle, Roger cutting vines aside with his sword.
Suddenly, he stopped and sniffed.
"…Smells like fried meat."
Rayleigh frowned. "People? On an uninhabited island?"
Reith's Observation Haki faintly detected a presence ahead—deliberately concealed, flickering in and out.
"Let's go!" Roger charged forward.
Breaking through the foliage, they entered a clearing. A fire crackled at its center, an unknown animal roasting above it. A dark-haired man wearing sunglasses sat beside the fire, two short hatchets tucked into his belt.
He chewed calmly, unfazed by their arrival.
"Yo," he said casually. "Did the current carry you here too?"
Roger's eyes lit up. "You a pirate? You don't feel ordinary. I think we'd get along great!"
The man shrugged. "Something like that. Name's Scopper Gaban. I boarded a merchant ship, got wrecked, and ended up here."
Rayleigh studied him closely. "Your presence doesn't belong to a weak man."
Gaban chuckled but didn't deny it. "And you lot aren't normal either. I've never seen pirates dragging a kid around."
Roger laughed and sat beside the fire, grabbing a piece of meat.
"I'm Gol D. Roger. These are my crewmates—Rayleigh and Reith. We're pirates!"
"Pirates?" Gaban raised an eyebrow. "Just the three of you? The sea's a dangerous place."
Reith puffed out his chest. "Don't underestimate us! We're very strong!"
He knew exactly who stood before him—the future right and left hands of the Pirate King.
Gaban looked down at Reith with interest. "How old are you? Four? Five?"
A vein throbbed on Reith's forehead. "…What's wrong with four?! I'm the Fog Ghost! Haven't you read the bounty posters?"
Gaban froze—then burst out laughing.
"Interesting. First time I've seen such a tiny pirate."
Mouth full, Roger mumbled, "Oi, Gaban… wanna join us?"
Gaban wiped his mouth. "What's your goal?"
Roger swallowed, stood up, and spread his arms toward the sky.
"To become the freest people on this endless sea!"
Silence.
Then Gaban laughed loudly. "Good! That's all I needed to hear!"
Classic hot-blooded shonen, Reith thought. No salary, no benefits—just one sentence and his soul's on fire.
"So this is Gol D. Roger," Rayleigh murmured, adjusting his glasses.
"Welcome aboard," he said.
As the four men drank and laughed around the fire, Reith felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Security.