"Aren't we the Roger Pirates? Why are we running?!"
Aboard the Oro Jackson, Douglas Bullet—freshly defeated by Roger and won over by his charisma—had chosen to join the crew as their third apprentice. Of course, he had conditions: he demanded the right to challenge Roger anyti, anywhere.
For Roger, that was hardly a problem.
"Idiot! Do you even rember where we are? What are you standing around for? Raise the sails!"
Rayleigh smacked Bullet on the arm without ceremony. Since the man had joined them, he would be treated as one of them. Bullet instinctively frowned—he wasn't used to such familiarity. As a lifelong lone wolf, the gesture felt strange.
But he quickly accepted it.
Then Rayleigh's words sank in.
His pupils shrank.
"The Edd War Sea… the territory of Golden Lion Shiki—the overlord of the New World!"
Only then did Bullet understand what they were worried about. He fell silent for a mont before rushing to hoist the sails.
Roger's strength had exceeded his expectations. Having been defeated in a single strike, he had no excuses. But what about Whitebeard—who was said to rival Roger? And Golden Lion Shiki, whose infamy surpassed even that?
The Oro Jackson soon displayed its remarkable maneuverability. It was as if the heavens favored them—the wind aligned perfectly with their course. The hull sliced through the blue sea, ripples spreading in its wake.
But then the navigator suddenly frowned.
"Roger!"
"What is it?"
"Based on the wind patterns, the air temperature, the movent of the fish beneath the surface… the weather's about to change drastically!"
That was the advantage of having a top-tier navigator. Not only could he guide the crew, he could also sense the shifting temperant of the sea.
The weather of the New World was erratic and treacherous. One mont it could be clear skies and calm seas—like now. The next, a storm powerful enough to destroy entire islands could erupt.
Roger took the warning seriously.
After issuing brief instructions, they made no attempt to seek shelter or change course. They trusted their ship—that was one reason.
The other?
They didn't have a choice.
Boom!
A cannon shell exploded in the sea less than a few dozen ters from the Oro Jackson. Water sprayed violently, droplets even splashing onto the deck.
The sudden blast startled everyone.
Roger shot up to the top of the mast in an instant. At first, he saw nothing. Only when he raised a telescope did he finally catch sight of a distant silhouette.
"Those guys really don't give up…"
He smiled wryly.
Below, the crew looked up at their captain, awaiting orders.
Then Roger roared:
"Full speed ahead! They're here!"
The distance between the ships was astonishing—over three kiloters—yet the shells were landing within re dozens of ters.
That wasn't normal artillery.
And none of the Golden Lion Pirates had that kind of accuracy.
That familiar "greeting"… could only belong to one person.
"Don't tell
you're joking! Over 3,000 ters away and the deviation's only forty-sothing ters?!"
Buggy shuddered violently. He grabbed Shanks and dragged him to one of the oars. The two of them rowed desperately, muscles straining.
Nearby, Bullet was equally shaken—
But what followed was excitent he couldn't suppress.
It had to be him.
The man known as "Rampaging" Roldy.
The greatest prodigy the Marines had produced in a century. A rising legend in pirate history.
Fitt Roldy.
He was one of Bullet's targets as well.
How big is the gap between us right now…?
For the super rookies of the new era, Roldy was a benchmark. They had grown up hearing countless tales about him. Yet he was absurdly young—even younger than most of them.
To possess such terrifying power at that age? Doubt was natural.
No matter.
A beating would clarify everything.
The Roger Pirates pushed their ship to maximum speed.
But against the flying fleet of the Golden Lion Pirates, it was aningless.
On the horizon, more pirate ships appeared—rising into the sky.
The distance between them was closing rapidly.
Behind them lood a vast pirate armada, blotting out the sky like a storm cloud. Its oppressive presence felt suffocating.
Ahead lay another darkness—the real storm.
The warm sun lost its heat as black clouds spread at astonishing speed. The wind howled, shifting violently. The brief advantage they'd had vanished. With the wind no longer aiding them, the gap shrank visibly.
Through his telescope, Roger could even make out Roldy's feral grin—muscles bulging as he hurled cannonballs by hand.
To him, the shells were pebbles.
Even without amplification from his Devil Fruit, the sheer force behind his throws was monstrous. At this distance, his shots were virtually guaranteed to hit.
Rayleigh stood at the stern, saber flashing as he desperately intercepted shell after shell.
Watching Rayleigh's frantic defense, Roldy suddenly felt a little embarrassed.
This was getting excessive.
He couldn't keep bullying them like this.
So—
A cannonball sixty tis the size of a normal one ca flying through the air.
The Mo-Mo no Mi Awakening.
The most basic amplification surged from thirtyfold straight to sixty-sixfold. That was rely the most visible change.
Beneath the surface, the amplification extended to the many powers within Roldy's body.
The massive shell—sixty-six tis the size of an ordinary one—hurtled forward like a falling teor.
For once in his life,
Silvers Rayleigh cursed aloud.
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