A few days later, the Red Force drifted slowly toward the direction of some island.
An island whale breached and dove around the ship in high spirits, the spray it kicked up drawing a chorus of startled shouts — which only egged Laboon on further.
Gavin was putting a group of the crew through their daily training when Crocus, lounging in a deck chair, suddenly flicked a 100-Berry coin up into the sky.
Caw~~ A News Coo dropped down the latest paper.
Crocus was in no hurry to read the news; instead, he dug out the wanted posters tucked inside.
“Just as I thought — Gavin, your bounty’s gone up again.
Exactly like it was in Roger’s day!
When they first set sail, Rayleigh’s was quite a bit higher than Roger’s too.” Without breaking the rhythm of his barbell swings, Gavin asked, “How high’d it climb, Mister Crocus?” [Red-Haired Shanks — Bounty: 300,000,000 Berries — ALIVE ONLY] [Sword Demon Hickman D.
Gavin — Bounty: 510,000,000 Berries — ALIVE ONLY] “You’re two hundred million over Shanks — five hundred and ten million now.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
A bounty like that when you’ve barely put out to sea…
You won’t be getting any peace and quiet from here on.” “Nani (ÒωÓױ)?!” Shanks dropped his barbell, bolted over to Crocus, and snatched the poster.
The sight of Gavin’s number — and his dashing photo — set him trembling all over.
“Those rotten marines…
those rotten, rotten marines!!!
Are they blind?!
I’m the captain!
Why is the first mate’s bounty higher than the captain’s?!
And that photo!!” Shanks howled at the heavens in a fit of helpless, impotent rage.
“Screw this, I’m going to Marine Headquarters right now.
I’m gonna ask those marines to their faces whether they’ve got eyes at all, I—” WHAM!!
Crocus threw an Armament-hardened fist.
Shanks: ◍×◍ K.O….
“Useless brat.
Roger was exactly the same back in the day — never picked up any of the good habits, but mastered all the bad ones without a single lesson!” Monster came trotting over, leading Riki, and the monkey and lion hauled Shanks off to one side.
At the helm of the Red Force, Buggy looked perfectly unbothered by all this.
He couldn’t win the comparison no matter how he tried, so he might as well lie back and take it easy.
Besides, a fat bounty wasn’t exactly a good thing — it’d only get in the way of his treasure-digging.
“Come to think of it, Crocus.” Crocus’s gaze drifted to Buggy, a faint, barely perceptible trace of resignation and regret in his eyes.
“Was Captain Roger like this back then too?
Rayleigh was the first to join the crew, wasn’t he?” Crocus set the posters down and started leafing through the day’s paper.
“That’s right.
Rayleigh told me plenty about Roger’s younger years.
The Roger Pirates back then didn’t have it anywhere near as easy as you lot did by the time you were old enough to remember.
Rayleigh was the one who paid for their first pirate ship.
Roger, that kid, was a real nobody in those days — no money, no connections, no strength.
Nothing going for him at all except guts and a thick hide.” Remembering when he himself had first come aboard, five years back, Crocus let out a long sigh.
“Fate never does play along, does it.
If only the Hickman clan’s ability had shown up a few years sooner — it might’ve cured Roger’s illness.” Roger’s illness…
Gavin’s barbell paused for two seconds, then resumed its rhythm.
“Fate’s a real bitch — the more you fancy her, the less she gives a damn about you.
And even if Roger had lived, the Great Pirate Era probably never would’ve begun, right?” The melancholy left Crocus’s face, and he nodded with a smile.
“You’re right, Gavin.
Besides, the one Laugh Tale is waiting for isn’t Roger — and the one who’ll change this world isn’t anyone in the Roger Pirates either.
Roger hoped his own child would become that person.
Kept insisting the kid was bound to be a boy, too.” Gavin didn’t ask what exactly was on Laugh Tale.
He knew that even if he did, he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
Every last member of the Roger Pirates spoke in riddles, and when it came to an open-ended thing like Laugh Tale, the only truth was what you saw with your own eyes.
A complicated look crossed Buggy’s face.
To him, Roger had been more than a captain — he’d been an elder.
The man hadn’t taught him much, but in those days, simply providing enough safety and a full belly was more than enough.
He truly did owe the man a debt.
Otherwise he’d never have said yes the moment Shanks came looking for him.
Buggy knew his own strength couldn’t tip the scales of any battle.
But whether you could do a thing was one matter — whether you had the nerve to do it was another.
And he wasn’t about to let Shanks look down on him.
Flustered and out of sorts, he cranked the wheel hard to the right with both hands.
Catching the whole thing out of the corner of his eye, Gavin finally caught on.
‘Wasn’t the Red Force supposed to be drifting with the wind toward some island???’ “Oi, oi, hold on, Buggy!
Why the hell are you steering the Red Force?!” Buggy blinked, the picture of innocence.
“Huh?
You lot don’t know where we’re going anyway, so I figured I’d just steer wherever and see — maybe I’ll get lucky.” Gavin fell silent.
When it came to luck, Buggy was the undisputed authority; there was no arguing the point.
“Besides, my ship…
got wrecked by you Red-Haired Pirates, didn’t it?!” Remembering how his ratty little boat had been smashed to splinters by a single flick of Laboon’s tail, Buggy fixed him with a hard, unblinking stare.
“You bastards owe me a ship!
That was a pirate ship the great Buggy worked his ass off to get his hands on!!” Guilty as charged, Gavin gave up on correcting him — they had no idea where Batilla Island was anyway.
They’d have to rely on a South Blue sea chart bought at their next landfall to set their course from there.
“Whatever.
As long as you’re happy.” …
Meanwhile, in the town of Zorn, on Fenrir Island in the South Blue.
Outside an open-air noodle shop, a middle-aged Garp in a big straw hat was wolfing down a bowl of cold noodles.
“Sllurrrp~~~ Great flavor!
You’ve really got the touch, boss!” The ramen master roared with laughter at the praise.
“This is a family recipe, passed down for generations — good enough to make you swallow your own tongue!” Garp finished the noodles without a word, then hollered for another bowl.
“Ah, the South Blue’s a restless place these days.
Those fellows are dead set on hunting down some ‘son of the Pirate King’ — as if the South Blue could ever have such a thing!” The shopkeeper, kneading his dough, agreed without giving it much thought.
“Right you are, right you are.
That wretched World Government — and those marines doing their dirty work are just as bad!” Hearing the man curse the marines, Garp could only manage a wry, pained smile.
On the matter of the South Blue, the Marines were in the wrong when all was said and done — even though Fleet Admiral Kong had done everything in his power to keep them clear of it.
But not even he could flatly refuse an order from the Five Elders.
Especially the marines born in the South Blue…
Never mind his own hot-blooded, justice-obsessed aide Kuzan — Sengoku alone had bent his ear about it plenty.
If the New World hadn’t kept him so swamped, Sengoku might well have come down to the South Blue under the pretext of some mission and pulled a bait-and-switch of his own.
“Ahem — boss, you ever heard of Batilla Island?
I happen to be traveling around, and I was thinking of paying it a visit.” “Batilla Island?” The ramen master dropped his freshly worked noodles into the pot and gave him a puzzled look.
“What d’you want with a backwater like that?
There’s nothing out there — even the Marines only sent a handful of men.” Garp gave a rueful chuckle.
“I’m just after a bit of peace and quiet, and Batilla Island fits the bill perfectly.” “Fair enough.
The place is poor, sure, but the scenery’s not half bad — especially that field of hibiscus.” The shopkeeper had clearly been to Batilla Island himself; he lifted a hand toward the south with practiced ease.
“Ask around down at the docks — there ought to be a boat headed that way.
It’s not far from here, so someone’ll be glad to take you along on their route.” “Thanks, boss — you’ve been a real lifesaver!” …
Batilla Island.
The harbor.
Early afternoon.
Unlike the islands of the East Blue, the South Blue had a warmer, more neighborly feel to it.
Even in these bad times, even with the South Blue under persecution, nothing could dampen the warmth and good cheer of its people.
Gavin came down off the ship, asked a dockworker for information about the island — and promptly went slack-jawed.
‘Isn’t Buggy’s Conqueror-tier luck just a little too absurd…?
He steered us straight to the destination???’ “Oi~~ Gavin, where are we?” Shanks bellowed from the ship.
Gavin waved back up at him.
“Shanks, let’s restock our supplies here!
We’ve been sailing so long, we’ve earned a proper rest~~!” The whole Red-Haired crew filed down off the ship, leaving only Yasopp and a few of Buggy’s underlings behind to watch it.
Once ashore, Crocus turned a thoughtful gaze toward the island’s southernmost tip.
There, at the edge of a cliff far in the distance, he sensed a presence — strange, yet somehow faintly familiar.