"Captain, what is this?" More was utterly shocked to see Shirakawa return from a trip with a person in tow—and not just anyone, but the very man who had the entire world in an uproar right now.
"Don't tell me you went and raided the execution ground?"
"How could I? I'm not that stupid," Shirakawa shot More a look, then laid Roger's body down on an empty patch of ground next to his house.
By this point, Roger had already drawn his last breath. Even with Shirakawa's abilities, there was no saving him now. Thinking of this, Shirakawa let out a helpless sigh.
"So this is the Pirate King, Gold Roger?" More peered carefully at Roger's corpse from behind Shirakawa. Seeing the smile still lingering on the man's face even in death left More feeling utterly incredulous.
"It's Gol D. Roger, not Gold," Shirakawa corrected the error in the name.
"But the newspaper the Marines published clearly wrote Gold," More asked in confusion. His memory shouldn't be failing him.
"That's just a trick the Marines use to throw people off. The Captain's real name is Gol D. Roger."
"I see," More nodded in understanding. If the Captain said so, then it had to be right.
"Then, Captain, what should we do with the Pirate King's body?"
"Of course we have to give my Captain a proper burial. You stay here and wait. Don't let anyone come near this spot, and absolutely do not let anyone touch Roger's body. Understood?"
Shirakawa spoke to More with a serious expression.
"Yes, Captain! I absolutely won't let those weather scientists touch the Pirate King's body," More vowed. On this island, besides the two of them, there were only those weather scientists.
"And you. You can't touch him either."
"Yes, Captain. I won't touch the Pirate King's body either."
After hearing More's repeated assurances, Shirakawa leaped straight off Weatheria Island. He needed to find a good piece of wood to build a worthy coffin for his Captain.
After Shirakawa left, More indeed didn't touch Roger's body. Instead, he leaned in close, his face nearly brushing against the corpse's. He just wanted to see what was so special about this Roger that made him the Pirate King.
As More drew near, he felt a wave of heat radiating from Roger's body. The man clearly wasn't breathing anymore, yet he felt as warm as a living person.
After a thorough inspection, More realized Roger didn't seem any different from an ordinary person. His build didn't look particularly muscular or imposing either.
About an hour later, Shirakawa finally returned. Trailing behind him was a rather large tree. Judging by its color alone, one could tell this was no ordinary tree.
"Captain, what kind of tree is this? Why is it black?"
More was puzzled again. The world was truly full of wonders. He had seen green, brown, and tan trees, but a black tree was a first for him.
"Probably an ironwood tree. I'm not entirely sure myself," Shirakawa replied.
More let out a soft "oh" and stepped back a safe distance, watching as Shirakawa carved the ironwood into the shape of a coffin.
He then etched intricate patterns along the coffin walls, instantly making the pitch-black casket look elegant and imposing.
Once the coffin was ready, Shirakawa walked over to Roger's side, pulled out the two execution blades lodged in his body, and gently laid Roger's corpse flat inside.
"Goodbye, Captain," Shirakawa murmured. Barring the unexpected, this would be the last time he ever saw Roger.
Afterward, Shirakawa buried Roger and erected a tombstone above the grave. It read: Here lies the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger. Erected by crew member Adolf K. Shirakawa.
With that done, Shirakawa plopped down right in front of Roger's grave. Pulling out two bottles of liquor from who-knows-where, he started drinking.
"Captain, try not to take it too hard."
Seeing Shirakawa like this, More naturally understood what he was feeling. Wasn't this the classic case of drowning one's sorrows in drink?
"I know. Go on back first. Just let me be alone here for a while."
"Alright. If you need anything, Captain, just call for me," More said, sensing that leaving Shirakawa alone was the best choice right now.
"Mm."
Meanwhile, the Blue Sea below had already been thrown into complete chaos. After Roger's execution, his body had vanished without a trace, sparking widespread public outcry.
Although the Marines stepped in to dispel rumors, claiming they had taken the body into custody, the Den Den Mushi broadcast had already spread across the entire world. Only a fool would believe such a statement.
But what truly set the Blue Sea ablaze was the final words Roger had spoken.
Within a single day, no fewer than five thousand pirate crews had sprung up across the seas. Their sole objective was the treasure left behind by the Pirate King, and the legendary secret of the sea—"ONE PIECE."
At Marine Headquarters, everyone was already at their wit's end. The loss of Roger's body alone had earned them a severe dressing-down from the Five Elders. Now, with so many new pirates emerging overnight, their workload had skyrocketed.
The number of pirate crews had multiplied dozens of times over compared to before.
Fortunately, the quality of these new pirates was uneven. Most were ordinary people—youngsters yearning for adventure, and middle-aged men who had abandoned their wives and children in pursuit of freedom.
But there were no shortage of elite pirates among them. Some bounty hunters had switched sides the moment Roger was executed, becoming pirates themselves.
Gangs had also set sail on the pirate's path.
Some nations, desperate to claim the Pirate King's treasure, had even ordered their national guards to disguise themselves as pirates.
In short, the world had descended into utter chaos.
Normally ostentatious nobles had become exceedingly cautious during this period. Who knew if some reckless madman might come after them with a death wish?
The Marines had also accelerated their recruitment efforts. With their current manpower, dealing with this many pirates was simply unrealistic.
To curb the arrogance of these upstarts, Marine Headquarters had already dispatched reinforcements to the Four Blues.
Their strategy was to start with the weakest, nipping any future threats in the bud before they could rise to power.
However, the Marine stationed in the East Blue was particularly formidable—Vice Admiral Garp. He simply couldn't trust anyone else to guard his homeland.
So whenever he encountered a pirate crew near Foosha Village, regardless of whether they were newly formed or had a criminal record, he would deliver a devastating blow.
This taught the pirates of the East Blue a harsh lesson: there was a ruthless monster among the Marines here. As a result, the pirates in the East Blue walked on eggshells, not even daring to hoist their Jolly Rogers.
They could only raise their flags again after reaching the Grand Line, praying fervently in their hearts never to cross paths with someone like Garp again.
"Now this is truly the Great Pirate Era in name and reality," a retired Marine remarked with a sigh. He had just received a notice calling for former Marines to re-enlist.
The world had changed dramatically. Perhaps the Marines were still the most powerful organization in the world, but the pirates were undeniably on the rise.
/-\
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