Noland's final words before his execution were a prophecy that the City of Gold and its island had likely sunk to the bottom of the ocean...
Mont Blanc Cricket had spent his entire life diving, searching for the remains of that bell in the dark, crushing depths. And now, this old man standing before him spoke of taking him to see the Golden Bell as if he were simply inviting him out for a casual lunch.
"Are you out of your mind?! You can't reach the seabed! A lifetime isn't enough to find Noland's treasure down there! Stop talking big!"
Cricket roared at Rowan, his voice echoing across the shore.
He was furious. He was furious at this old man's audacity—how could someone claim to find in a moment what he hadn't found in decades? But deeper down, he was furious at his own perceived inadequacy.
Rowan didn't take offense. Instead, he looked at this forty-something "brat" with a hint of pity. If he told Cricket the truth—that his diving was a fool's errand because the gold hadn't sunk, but had been blasted ten thousand meters into the sky—it might be too cruel. It would mean turning a man's life's work into a tragic comedy of errors.
Who could stomach that?
"I'll ask you one last time if you're coming. You only get one chance," Rowan said, his patience thinning.
As if possessed, Cricket nodded.
Even though the old man's words were terrifyingly surreal, there was something undeniably reliable about him. His voice had a magnetic quality, a weight of authority that commanded belief even when common sense screamed "fraud."
"I'll go."
Cricket barely understood why he had made the decision so quickly. "So... what is it you want me to do for you?"
Rowan gave a satisfied smile and pointed toward the shimmering horizon. "Calculate the exact timing, size, and location of the next Knock Up Stream."
"You... what do you want that for? The Knock Up Stream... where on earth are you trying to go?"
"You're asking the obvious. But what you need to know is that I'm taking you with me to fulfill my end of the bargain. For now, just focus on keeping that small body of yours in one piece."
Taking me with him...
Cricket stood frozen, his mind racing until the realization finally hit him like a lightning bolt.
"Aha! You are lying! Noland's deduction couldn't have been wrong! He wasn't a liar!" Cricket became agitated again. The only reason to seek the Knock Up Stream was for that legendary, "unrealistic" pirate dream:
Skypiea.
A place most doubted even existed, and this old man was casually talking about hitching a ride on a vertical geyser to get there. If you're so powerful, why don't you just sprout wings and fly to the sun? Why bother with the sea currents?
"Hey, old man! Come back and explain yourself!" Cricket shouted, chasing after Rowan's back as he walked toward Cricket's house.
Rowan had considered using Rokushiki: Geppo (Moonwalk) combined with Soru to reach the White-White Sea. With his monstrous stamina, he probably could have brute-forced his way up.
But he chose the conservative route. The situation in the clouds was still unclear, and he didn't want to burn half his energy before reaching the destination. The Knock Up Stream would do the heavy lifting; even if it didn't send him the full ten thousand meters, he could clear the remaining distance with Geppo without exhausting himself.
He needed to save his strength to deal with that arrogant "God" brat who played with lightning.
Cricket watched Rowan's silhouette. He looked like an ordinary old man—a sturdy walk, sure, but his age was undeniable. For a moment, Cricket regretted his impulsive agreement.
"Stop right there! Where do you think you're running? You made me lose face in Mock Town—there's no way out now!"
A familiar, buzzing voice sounded from behind, ruining Rowan's good mood. It was the "Hyena," Bellamy, who had apparently recovered enough to track them to the coast.
This kid really has no fear of death, Rowan thought.
"Spring Snipe!" Bellamy roared, his coiled legs vibrating as he stored immense kinetic energy.
Rowan kept walking, not even turning around, as if the air behind him were empty.
"Die, old man!" Bellamy launched himself, full of confidence.
Just as the impact was about to hit Rowan's spine, Rowan spun on his heel and thrust out a single punch!
BOOM!
A massive explosion of sound and a lingering curtain of dust erupted. When the dust settled, a huge crater had appeared in front of Rowan. Lying in the pit, bloody, mangled, and unable to move, was the arrogant spring-man.
"Is... is that... Bellamy?" Cricket's eyes were wide with shock. The "Hyena" who ruled over Mock Town had been flattened by a single punch from this senior citizen?
While Cricket's mind was in a whirl, the figure in the pit stirred. Bellamy used his hands to push himself up, barely lifting his head.
"You! You old bastard... who the hell are you?"
Bellamy finally realized that Rowan's earlier evasion wasn't luck—it was a gap in power as wide as the ocean. Rowan stopped, reached up, and slowly removed his black sun hat. He turned around fully.
"Rowan?!"
Bellamy would recognize that face anywhere.
"Hahaha! Marine Vice Admiral, the Marine Godfather... the man who repelled Kaido and personally executed Doflamingo and Crocodile!"
Bellamy rattled off Rowan's legendary feats. Since the moment Rowan killed Donquixote Doflamingo, Bellamy had branded him as a mortal enemy—a target he swore to kill even if it cost him his life.
Looking at Rowan's calm face, Bellamy's rage flared, completely forgetting he had just been one-shotted.
"You're the one who killed Lord Doflamingo! Rowan! Take this! Spring... Death Punch!"
With a burst of desperate strength, Bellamy's blonde hair stood on end. He threw his coiled arms forward with double the usual power, lunging at Rowan.
"Clueless brat," Rowan muttered contemptuously. He raised his fist to meet Bellamy's "Death Punch" head-on.
KABOOM!
Following the shockwave, the air seemed to solidify. Then, the distinct, sickening sound of something—and someone—shattering filled the silence.