After their "friendly" meeting with Garp, life aboard the Roger Pirates returned to its usual chaos.
But as the crew kept growing, a very real problem was becoming impossible to ignore.
"Hey! Nozdon! Move your foot! You're stepping on my navigation log!"
Brumalin's angry voice came from a corner of the deck.
"Huh? Oh—sorry!"
The cone-headed giant Nozdon hurriedly shifted his foot—only to slam his back into Miller Pine, who was polishing his massive hammer.
"Bastard! You wanna die?!" Miller roared, his enormous spiked hammer occupying nearly a third of the walkway.
"This is all Punklow's fault! He's got his scrap junk piled everywhere!"
"What did you say?!" Punklow shot back.
"This is my newest invention—the Portable Fully-Automatic Barbecue Grill Mark III!"
Near the rail, Kyle was sparring with Isaac, but the space was so cramped that Kyle nearly tripped over hanging laundry more than once.
He used a "Quake Step – Flash" to pull back, then looked around at the chain-reaction chaos caused by sheer lack of space and sighed.
This "donated" ship was now nothing more than a sardine can for more than a dozen full-grown pirates.
Sleeping had to be done in shifts.
Meals required lines.
Even holding a banquet was a struggle.
"Looks like it's time for a new ship," Rayleigh said quietly beside him, having stopped cleaning his sword. His gaze swept across the crowded deck.
"Kuahahaha! I was thinking the same thing!" Roger burst out of the captain's cabin and planted a foot on the railing.
"Listen up, lads! This ship can't keep up with us anymore! Let's build the greatest ship in the world!"
"OHHHHHH!"
All complaints instantly turned into cheers.
"Build one? Where?" Gaban asked, taking a swig of booze.
"If it's shipbuilding, there's no place on the Grand Line more famous than Water 7," Spencer said smoothly, offering his expert opinion.
Kyle's eyes lit up.
Water 7.
The birthplace of legends.
The city of the world's greatest shipwright.
One name immediately rang in his mind—
Tom.
"Alright, then it's settled!" Roger pointed at the horizon.
"Destination—Water 7!"
Several days later, a colossal city built entirely on water rose from the horizon, and gasps echoed across the deck.
A towering fountain blasted skyward at the city's center.
Canals crisscrossed the metropolis like a web, and seahorse-like creatures called Bullos pulled boats through the waterways.
Layer upon layer of magnificent, bizarre buildings rose from the water, radiating life and craftsmanship.
"Whoa…! This place is huge!" Nozdon gaped.
"A city on water… magnificent," even Spencer murmured in awe.
As their ship docked, Roger grinned at the wide-eyed crew.
"Alright! Disperse! Enjoy the city while we look for shipwrights! Meet back here at sunset!"
"OHHHH!"
The crew scattered instantly—Miller heading straight for the taverns, Mugren toward what looked like a weapon shop, others forming groups and vanishing into the city.
Soon only Roger, Rayleigh, Gaban, and Kyle remained.
"Alright, let's handle business," Roger clapped his hands.
"Let's find out who the best shipwright here is!"
"Won't be easy," Rayleigh said.
"Top craftsmen are picky, and they don't always work for pirates."
"That's a problem…" Roger scratched his chin.
"I… might know a name," Kyle spoke up at just the right time.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.
"Let's hear it," Gaban leaned closer.
"Master Tom," Kyle said, pretending to recall.
"A fish-man. Supposedly the greatest shipwright in the world. But he's famous for being stubborn—he only takes jobs that interest him."
"A fish-man? The best in the world?" Roger's eyes sparkled.
"Kuahahaha! Sounds perfect! Let's find him!"
With Kyle's subtle guidance and a bit of asking around, they soon reached a massive shipyard in the outskirts of the city—
Tom's Workers.
The air was thick with sawdust and oil. Even from outside, the ringing of hammers and loud laughter could be heard.
Inside, a huge, round-bodied fish-man with bull-like horns was hammering a thick plank into a keel with astonishing precision.
"Hey! Who are you?" a young worker called out.
"We're looking for Mr. Tom," Rayleigh replied politely.
The fish-man stopped and turned, a huge grin on his broad face.
"I'm Tom! What do ya want, DON!"
"We're pirates," Roger said bluntly.
"And we want you to build us the greatest ship in the world!"
"Pirates?" Tom's smile faded slightly as he sized them up.
"You think the likes of you are worth my ship?"
"We're not ordinary pirates!" Roger grinned.
"And we're not asking for an ordinary ship! We want one that'll carry us around the entire world—a ship that'll conquer the seas!"
The dream behind his words silenced the shipyard.
Tom stared hard at Roger.
"Circle the world, huh…?"
He burst into laughter.
"Wahahaha! Big words, kid! DON!"
He stepped forward, looming over Roger.
"Why should I believe you deserve a king's ship?"
Kyle understood—it was a test.
Tom wasn't judging money or status, but whether they had the spirit to command such a vessel.
Roger didn't flinch. His grin widened.
"Because I'm Gol D. Roger—the man who'll conquer this ocean!"
Tom froze—then laughed even harder.
"I like you! But bravado alone won't cut it."
"Show me your current ship," Tom said seriously.
"A ship carries the soul of its crew. Let me see yours."
For an hour, Tom and his men inspected the Roger Pirates' battered vessel.
The more he looked, the more his expression changed—from amusement… to surprise… to deep respect.
"These scars… Marine cannon fire… this crack's from a Sea King… this cut was from a powerful slash, patched up rough but effective…"
He ran his hand across the ship's wounds like reading a legend.
"You crossed the seas on this thing?"
Roger patted the rail proudly.
"It's our partner."
Tom was silent for a long moment—then grinned.
"Alright! I'll build your ship! DON!"
Roger pumped his fist.
"But—" Tom's face turned solemn.
"If you want a ship that can conquer the world, ordinary wood won't do."
He spoke with reverence.
"To build the greatest ship, you need the strongest wood on Earth—
the Adam Tree."
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