One Piece: So What If I Sin, Lie, and Lust? I'm Still a Good Marine Chapter 209: Volume 2 – - 111: I’m Here to Challenge... the

New World, a certain island.

The Oro Jackson was docked along the shoreline, its Jolly Roger flapping in the cold sea breeze.

A bonfire crackled on the beach.

The crew of the Roger Pirates sat around it, laughing loudly as they smoked and drank.

Chunks of red-and-white roast at sizzled over the flas, fat dripping into the coals and filling the air with a rich aroma that made mouths water.

"Hard to believe Garp actually gave up chasing us. That's definitely out of the ordinary."

Rayleigh, a blond man with glasses, raised his jug and took a sip, frowning in puzzlent.

"Wahahahaha! Garp must've realized he couldn't beat , so he gave up!"

Roger burst into laughter, unable to wait as he pulled out a dagger and sliced off a chunk of at.

He skillfully poured so broth over it and took a big bite. The flavor burst across his tongue, juices overflowing—he squinted in delight, the satisfaction washing over him.

Rayleigh rolled his eyes at Roger's usual nonsense.

"Sothing more important must've co up..."

Gaban, smoking a cigar nearby, said in a low voice. Two enormous black battle axes rested crossed beside him, glinting faintly in the sunlight.

"Sothing important..."

Rayleigh tilted his head back and took a long swig of liquor, muttering,

"This has never happened before. Ever since that great war back then, Garp's been on our tail nonstop—even ignoring World Governnt orders to keep chasing us."

Roger threw an arm over Rayleigh's shoulder, chuckling.

"Why overthink it? Isn't this good news for us?"

"If that bastard Garp hadn't pulled out, would we be sitting here eating at and drinking in peace?"

Rayleigh let out a sigh.

"I an, you're not wrong..."

"Exactly! Living in the mont is what matters most!"

Roger waved him off, laughing as he raised his jug high.

"Let's drink till we drop today!"

"Yeah!!"

The crew erupted in cheers.

Rayleigh rubbed his temples in mild frustration.

Drinking was one thing. Eating was another. But Roger, you bastard—could you not wipe your greasy hands on my clothes...?

He looked down at the oily handprint sared across his shoulder, his mouth twitching in annoyance.

Suddenly—

As if sensing sothing, Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban's eyes all lit up at the sa ti. A faint red gleam flickered deep within their pupils.

BOOM!!

The sea suddenly erupted in a towering column of water, tens of ters high.

With a crashing splash, a small submarine launched out from beneath the waves, surging toward the beach like a blade breaking through ice, carving a long trench into the sand as it landed.

"Who's there!?"

"Enemy attack!"

"A submarine?!"

"Is it the Marines?!"

The crew's expressions changed instantly. Weapons were drawn, and all eyes locked onto the submarine now resting on the sand.

Click.

A low chanical hiss echoed out as the hatch of the submarine opened.

A burly figure with wild, golden hair stepped out.

"You... are Roger?"

The man scanned the group briefly, then locked onto the figure wearing a blood-red captain's coat. A fierce, defiant grin curled at his lips.

Roger squinted at him for a couple of seconds, then smiled in anticipation.

"That's right. Who are you?"

BOOM!!

A surge of overwhelming pressure burst from the golden-haired youth, rolling outward like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from everyone nearby.

"Douglas Bullet."

As his raging Conqueror's Haki swept out, Bullet's hair whipped wildly in the wind. His eyes turned crimson, radiating a berserker's madness and thirst for battle.

"I've co to challenge... the strongest!"

The mont the words left his mouth,

Bullet's figure shot forward like a beast unleashed, rocketing straight at Roger!

...

Ten seconds later—

Bang!

Bullet was sent flying, crashing hard into the submarine and denting the steel hull.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he stared at Roger, who was still seated calmly, a chunk of roast at in his mouth. Disbelief filled Bullet's eyes, quickly giving way to a flicker of despair.

"How... How can the gap be this wide..."

Roger tore off another piece of at and grinned.

"Not bad—but you're still a few hundred years too early to challenge ."

"Damn it..."

Bloodshot veins spread through Bullet's eyes, his expression twisting with rage.

Just then, a flask was tossed toward him, landing in his arms.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you, kid?"

Bullet froze.

Looking up, he saw Roger's bold, smiling face, full of warmth despite its overwhelming presence. Around him, the rest of the Roger Pirates offered friendly, amused smiles.

"Even if you want to fight again, you gotta eat first,"

Roger chuckled.

"Right?"

...

The island was bustling with activity. Crowds packed the streets, weaving through rows of shops overflowing with all kinds of goods.

Daren strolled down the street, cigar between his lips, enjoying this rare mont of peace.

His old military uniform had long been destroyed during imprisonnt and battle. Now he wore a freshly bought outfit: a loose white shirt and casual black trousers. A black tie hung loosely around his neck—not ssy, just relaxed, lending him a wild, effortless charm.

This clean, sharp look, paired with Daren's carefree deanor and striking features, drew lingering glances from both young won and refined ladies alike.

He stepped into a tavern. As the small door closed behind him, the sunlight and noise from outside instantly faded.

Inside, the lighting was dim, the atmosphere quiet and alluring. A soft lody flowed gently through the air.

"One whiskey, on the rocks,"

Daren called to the bartender as he approached the counter.

"And a map, if you've got one."

Having a drink was nice, but he hadn't forgotten his real purpose.

Taverns, pleasure halls, and casinos—places like these were often hubs of information.

He'd never been to the New World before, so the first thing he needed was to confirm his current location.

After everything that had happened, Daren was confident that even in the New World—the "graveyard of pirates"—he now had the strength to hold his own.

As long as he didn't cross paths with one of those legendary figures, there were only a handful of people in this sea who could truly stop him.

The bartender handed him the whiskey and a tattered map. Daren tossed a few bills on the counter without a second thought.

Lifting the glass, he took a small sip. The rich, burning liquor rolled down his throat, making him squint in satisfaction.

Unfolding the crude map, he glanced over it, quickly pinpointing the location of this neutral island.

"So it's near the waters of Wano Country..."