"Shiki certainly moves fast." Shirakawa read the newspaper with a blank expression, his voice flat.
He'd known the Golden Lion would go after the Marines. He just hadn't known *when*. He hadn't expected Shiki to make his move the instant news of Roger's capture broke. The next time he saw the old lion would probably be years from now.
Shiki's storm came fast and passed faster. After all, the entire world's attention had already locked onto one thing: the execution of Pirate King Gol D. Roger, one week from now.
By then, the big shots and the small-timers alike had already set sail for Loguetown. Even pirates with bounties on their heads made no effort to hide their movements.
There was still a full week until the execution, but Loguetown was already bursting at the seams. Advance Marine battalions had arrived in force.
At this point, they weren't even arresting pirates they spotted in the streets. They turned a blind eye to every single one. Because at the Pirate King's execution, there could be no incidents. Not one.
Throughout that week, the winds howled and undercurrents churned. Figures rarely seen in the light of day all found their own paths to Loguetown in the East Blue.
On the day of the execution, warships ringed the town's perimeter. Every single vessel carried at least a Rear Admiral or a Vice Admiral. Nearly every Marine heavyweight had gathered in one place.
Of course, to prevent a repeat of the Shiki incident, the three Logia-type monster Vice Admirals had not come. They remained stationed at Marine Headquarters.
Below the execution platform, the crowd was packed so tight there was barely room to breathe. And naturally, on an occasion this momentous, Shirakawa could not be absent.
He'd arrived long ago, hovering high above Loguetown, watching everything unfold below.
He spotted plenty of familiar faces. Hawk-Eye Mihawk. Flamingo Doflamingo. Gecko Moria. Crocodile.
More than half of the future Seven Warlords of the Sea, already gathered here in this moment. Beyond them, Shirakawa also caught sight of numerous members of the Roger Pirates. Including, of course, Shanks and Buggy.
And this execution was being broadcast to the entire world. A statement of Marine authority, seared into the hearts of every living soul. Let them see the Navy's power. Let them *remember*.
The Marines didn't keep the world waiting long. The hour arrived swiftly. Roger walked up the steps to the platform, one step at a time.
His stride was steady. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. You'd never guess this was a man about to die.
Reaching the top, Roger simply sat down cross-legged. Probably the entire world watching was more nervous than he was.
The crowd below was stunned speechless by his easy, conversational demeanor. As if the man on that platform wasn't a condemned prisoner, but an old friend they'd been chatting with for years.
"Well now. So many familiar faces." Roger gazed out over the crowd from his seat on the platform. His voice carried a note of wistfulness, but also joy—excitement, even. As he spoke, his eyes flicked upward. Toward the sky.
Shirakawa felt it. The Captain had found him.
*That's our Captain for you,* Shirakawa thought, a quiet sigh in his chest. Not even Sengoku or Garp—two of the sharpest eyes in the Marines—had detected him. But Roger had. Just like that.
Across the world, everyone watching through the Visual Den Den Mushi held their breath. Plenty of Roger's old friends watched the broadcast with tears brimming at the corners of their eyes.
Aboard the Moby Dick, Whitebeard sat in his captain's chair. Before him, a massive projection displayed Roger sitting cross-legged on that platform. Whitebeard's feelings were a tangled, heavy knot.
Was his greatest friend truly about to leave him?
"Roger. That's enough." Sengoku's voice carried a warning edge.
"Come on, Sengoku. You think I can still run?"
Roger raised his hands, rattling the chains locked around his wrists. The two executioners flinched.
"Don't make any sudden moves, Roger." Sengoku's glare could have cut steel.
"Alright, alright." Roger let his arms drop,垂垂 hanging at his sides. His expression was calm as he looked out over the crowd, though something stirred faintly beneath the surface.
Then he shook his head, just slightly. He knew what would happen to the world after this. He knew. But what a shame—he wouldn't be around to see the grand spectacle that would follow.
He glanced up at the sun. The time was almost here.
The executioners assigned to carry out Roger's sentence were drenched in sweat. Not just from the heat. From the nerves.
"Roger. Do you have any final words?"
At Sengoku's question, Roger said nothing. He simply sat in silence.
But from the crowd below, someone beat him to it.
"Oi! Pirate King! Where'd you hide all the treasure you found? It's in the Grand Line, isn't it? You got it, didn't you—that legendary great treasure! The one and only—*ONE PIECE*!"
A man cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed up at the platform. Every eye in the square snapped toward him.
Roger heard it. And he *laughed*. A deep, full, unrestrained laugh that rolled across the silence. Then he spoke.
"You want my treasure? Sure. You can have it all. Go find it. I left everything I own in one place."
Sengoku's stomach dropped. *Bad.* He barked the order to the executioners. *Now.*
Two long blades plunged into Roger's body in the same instant.
"Damn you, Roger. Even in death, you play us."
Sengoku's face was thunderous. Garp, on the other hand, was *laughing*. Great, booming laughs. Or perhaps it was just the only way he knew how to bury the grief cracking open inside his chest.
"What's so funny, Garp? The world's about to tear itself apart. All because of Roger."
"That's Roger for you. Looks like this was a plan he'd been cooking up for a long, long time. But I never imagined the price he'd pay was his own life."
After the blades fell, the square went dead silent.
Then it *erupted*. Roaring cheers. Wild, exhilarated shouts.
Not celebrating Roger's death. Celebrating the possibility that the Pirate King's treasure was *theirs* for the taking.
The sky darkened. Rain came down in sheets. But it couldn't douse the fire burning in the crowd's eyes.
Every face told a different story. Some blazed with excitement. Some were grim, heavy. Some grieved openly.
"So this is it, Captain. Your task is done."
Shirakawa had watched to the very end. His mood was, naturally, wretched. He'd held back the urge to intervene with everything he had.
But he'd made one decision. He would not let the Marines keep the Captain's body.
In the chaos that followed the execution, Shirakawa lightened the gravity around Roger's corpse.
Then, with blinding speed, he sent it rocketing skyward. The sight stunned everyone on the battlefield. Faces lit up with alarm—was someone starting trouble *here*?
"Who's there?!" Sengoku and Garp snapped to attention in unison, eyes sharp.
But by the time they launched themselves into the air, Roger's body was gone.
"Damn it. Someone had to stir the pot even after Roger's dead." Still—the execution itself had succeeded. Roger was dead. That much was certain.
"Who *was* that?" The only person Sengoku knew capable of pulling something like that was still rotting in Impel Down.
"Probably remnants of the Roger Pirates," Garp said. "Didn't want Roger's body falling into Marine hands."
And honestly? That was fine by Garp. If the Marines had handled Roger's corpse, who knew what indignities they'd have inflicted. Letting Roger's own crew take him… it eased something in Garp's chest. Just a little.
"Garp. Don't forget. You're a Marine."
Sengoku knew exactly what was going through the old man's head. So he said it plainly.
"I know."
/-\
Enjoying the story? Want to read ahead?
Support the novel and unlock early access to unreleased chapters!
~ +20 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon! (+1 Chapter daily)
https://p-atreon.com/Its_Zack
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access Patreon normally)