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An hour later.
After tireless effort, Annika finally completed a sumptuous feast.
Along the long table, Ron, Kaido, and Stussy stared at the plates and pots spread before them with varied expressions, their eyes filled with deep suspicion.
“Can this pitch-black stuff…
actually be eaten?” Stussy poked a charcoal-like lump with her fork, looking up with profound doubt toward Annika, who stood by the table full of anticipation.
“Yes!” Annika nodded with confidence, folding her hands in front of her as she spoke with earnest apology: “Lady Stussy, I’m truly sorry.
I didn’t control the heat properly and burned it.
But I promise it’s edible!”
“Then what is this pot of soup?” Ron asked with a puzzled frown, stirring the thick brownish broth with a ladle.
“It’s mutton, pork, beef, chicken…
and a few other meats I couldn’t quite identify, all stewed together,” Annika explained patiently.
“I tasted it, and the flavor is really good!”
Ron fell silent.
Whitebeard fell silent.
Kaido fell silent too.
Taking a deep breath, Stussy spoke slowly: “Who taught you to cook like this?
Tell me—I want to kill them.”
“I’m sorry, Lord Ron, Lord Kaido, Lady Stussy…” Annika hung her head, her long pink hair draping down to conceal half her face.
“It’s all because of my poor cooking skills.”
Ron glanced at her, then looked back down at the pot of soup.
To be frank, the presentation was indeed disastrous.
He picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth.
Hm?
It’s…
actually quite tasty?
Still, Ron didn’t think it was because Annika’s cooking was inherently great.
More likely, it was simply because he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days.
A long while later.
Out on the sea, a pirate ship was slowly sailing away from that battered, cratered island.
Roger sat cross-legged beside the figurehead at the bow, holding a Den Den Mushi in one hand while resting the other on his knee, his face noticeably darker than usual.
“I’m sorry…” Roger spoke slowly.
“In the end, we arrived too late and couldn’t prevent the tragedy.”
Silence lingered on the other end of the line for a long time.
So long that Roger almost thought the other party had hung up.
After a long pause, the receiver’s lips twitched slightly, transmitting a trembling voice choked with held-back tears: “Did you…
find a body?”
“There are bodies,” Roger’s expression grew heavier.
“However, because of the collateral damage from the battle, only severed limbs were left at the scene…
It’s impossible to tell which one is Annika’s.”
“We searched the entire area, buried all the remains we could find together, and set up a simple marker.”
Unable to hold it in any longer, a long-suppressed sob leaked through the receiver.
Roger lowered his head slightly, his expression hidden: “Shakky, I will help you find Ron and make him pay for what he did.”
“Ron?” On the other end, Shakky’s voice rose sharply in total disbelief.
“How did Ron get involved in this?”
Roger didn’t answer immediately, switching the Den Den Mushi to his other hand: “You made a deal with the Rocks Pirates, right?
But while snatching the treasure, that guy Ron completely ignored the conditions you laid out, leading indirectly to Annika’s death.”
Shakky froze.
Her mouth opened, and only after several seconds did she manage to squeeze out a question: “Didn’t you…
arrive too late?
How do you know these inside details?”
A faint glint flickered in Roger’s eyes.
“I heard the crucial details from Ochoku’s mouth.”
“They fell out over dividing the spoils and abandoned Ochoku.
But before that, Ochoku saw with his own eyes that Ron ignored your primary terms.
In the battle against the Marines, every single captive slave was killed as collateral.”
Shakky fell silent.
She didn’t believe for a second that Ochoku would be kind enough to tell Roger the truth—especially regarding the humiliating fact that he had been ditched.
“You believe him?”
“I don’t trust him, but I trust his weakness.
A man driven entirely by self-interest—as long as my price is high enough, he will ruthlessly sell out anyone for profit.”
In Ochoku’s account, all the blame was directed squarely at Ron.
And across these seas, Ron was known as the “Cold-Blooded Butcher,” where slaughtering the innocent was as routine as drinking water.
Because of this, Ochoku’s words carried high credibility.
“Even if we can’t be one hundred percent certain Ochoku told the truth, the logic is entirely sound,” Roger stated in a measured tone.
After a long silence, a heavy sigh came through the receiver.
“In the end, this was Annika’s fate,” Shakky’s voice was filled with exhaustion.
“Doing this much for me is already enough.
There’s no need to go after Ron anymore.
Thank you very much, Roger.”
After all, Ron was a member of the Rocks Pirates.
Shakky didn’t want Annika’s death to deepen the friction between the uninvolved Roger Pirates and the Rocks Pirates, as that would only bring harm to Roger’s crew.
Shakky paused, then added softly, “Lastly…
please tell me the location where you buried the remains.”
“Alright,” Roger gave a slight nod.
Two days later.
On a certain island in the New World.
The morning sea fog had just dispersed.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the clouds, casting a soft golden glow over the entire town.
Ron’s group had arrived on the island early.
According to their plan, they were to wait here for the rest of the Rocks Pirates to return.
After drifting at sea for consecutive days, setting foot on solid ground brought an exceptionally comfortable relief.
Taking advantage of Ron’s good mood, Annika carefully made a request, asking if she could walk around the island to stretch her legs.
Ron agreed.
The main reason…
was that he was getting rather bored on the boat as well.
The bustling market streets were alive with the clamor of the crowd.
Ron’s steps slowed down instinctively, taking in the lively atmosphere around him.
“Mr.
Ron.”
Annika suddenly turned around, taking a couple of steps backward as she asked, “Why did you become a pirate?
For freedom?”
Through these past few days of interaction, Annika had gradually come to feel that Ron was actually a good person.
Even though he always called her clumsy and was sharp with his words, every time she ruined a meal, Ron would patiently teach her how to cook.
“To live,” Ron replied flatly.
Annika paused, speaking with earnest sincerity: “But…
if it’s just simply ‘living,’ there are many other ways.
Like the people here…”
“Their tomorrow rests on someone else’s blade.
But as for me—whether it’s tomorrow, the day after, or the distant future—every single tomorrow of mine must be clutched tightly in my own hands.”
“Living isn’t just breathing or a beating heart.
Living means your fate is decided by you alone.”
Annika couldn’t grasp the full meaning behind Ron’s words all at once, only feeling the heavy weight resting within those sentences.
Just then, a booming voice rang out from behind Ron.
“Ron, great news!!!”