"The Emperor said whoever catches our two sisters will receive his reward!" a maid exclaimed excitedly.
"What are we waiting for then? Sisters, surround them!"
The maids laughed and played, splashing water across the hot spring pool.
Raiver leaned against the corner of the pool, arms resting on the edge, watching the scene with a faint smile.
At this moment, he didn't resemble the "God Slayer" who struck fear into the hearts of Celestial Dragons, but rather a lazy emperor enjoying his peaceful time.
"Your Majesty!" a maid swam over, cooing, "Sister Xingmian swims too fast, I can't catch up~"
"Then try harder," Raiver chuckled. "My rewards aren't given out easily."
The maid pouted before turning back to join the chase.
Raiver watched this delightful scene, feeling particularly content.
He picked up a wine glass from the poolside and took a sip.
Just then—
Buru buru~ Buru buru~
A golden-shelled Den Den Mushi on the stone platform beside the pool suddenly rang.
Raiver raised an eyebrow and set down his glass.
He reached out, and the Den Den Mushi jumped into his palm.
"Boss."
Jieming's voice came through the receiver, steady but with a hint of urgency.
"Whitebeard and Big Mom have clashed in the New World. Their fleets are already in a standoff. According to intelligence, there's over an 80% chance of combat breaking out."
Raiver didn't respond immediately.
Listening to the playful sounds from the hot spring, he simply uttered a calm "Hmm."
"Understood."
He hung up.
The chase in the pool continued, the maids completely unaware of the turmoil brewing outside.
But Xingmian and Xingwan almost simultaneously stopped their movements.
After consuming the Devil Fruits, their perception had greatly improved, allowing them to overhear the Den Den Mushi conversation.
Two serpentine shadows shot out of the water, tracing elegant arcs through the air before landing steadily beside Raiver.
Their white and green tails swaying gently, Xingmian and Xingwan transformed back into human form.
Xingmian took the imperial robe from the rack and gently draped it over Raiver's shoulders.
Xingwan knelt down, carefully fastening his belt.
"Will Your Majesty be traveling far?" Xingmian asked softly.
"I'll be back soon," Raiver replied. "Whitebeard and Linlin are causing trouble. Someone needs to mediate."
Xingwan looked up, concern flashing in her eyes. "Will it be dangerous?"
Raiver looked down at her and suddenly smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
"What danger could possibly threaten me? I am the world's strongest man. The only one who could pose any threat to me is that guy."
Raiver stood before the floor-length mirror.
The man in the reflection wore robes black as ink, the Black Dragon Blade hanging at his waist, his Haki restrained yet profound.
Xingmian adjusted his collar while Xingwan carefully smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders.
"I leave the Sky Palace in your care," Raiver said.
"Yes, Your Majesty," the sisters replied in unison.
Raiver raised his hand, spatial ripples unfolding before him.
He stepped through and vanished.
...
South Blue, an inconspicuous small island.
In the center of the island stood a small establishment called "Rouge's Bar."
The shop was modest in size, simply decorated, but clean and tidy.
The liquor cabinet displayed various types of alcohol, the bar counter gleamed from polishing, and although the wooden tables and chairs were old, they were comfortable.
This place served as the temporary base for the Roger Pirates.
At that moment, the bar was bustling with noise.
"Hey, hey, hey! Something big is happening again in the New World!"
Vice Captain Rayleigh strode into the bar, holding a newspaper.
The bar quieted down slightly as several crew members who had been drinking turned their heads.
At the bar counter, Roger sat on a high stool, holding a glass of rum while chatting with the proprietress, Rouge, behind the counter.
A bright smile adorned his face as he vividly recounted an encounter with a giant Sea King during one of their adventures.
Although he had told this story at least ten times, Rouge still listened with a smile, occasionally interjecting with just the right question.
"Roger."
Rayleigh slapped the newspaper onto the bar counter.
"Whitebeard and Charlotte Linlin are about to go to war."
Roger's smile faded slightly. He set down his glass and picked up the newspaper.
The front-page headline was printed in bold letters:
[Two Emperors Confront Each Other in the New World! War Clouds Gather Over the Simido Sea!]
Accompanying it was a blurry photo—Whitebeard's Moby Dick and Linlin's Queen Mama Chanter facing each other from a distance.
Their fleets were lined up across the sea.
Even through the newspaper, the tense, confrontational atmosphere was palpable.
Roger frowned, reading the report twice over.
"Whitebeard and Linlin... what conflict do they have that requires going to war?" He set the newspaper down, his tone puzzled.
Rayleigh took the rum Rouge handed him, took a small sip, and calmly said:
"It's nothing more than territory, interests, pride—things like that.
Minor friction turns into conflict, conflict escalates into confrontation, and confrontation spirals out of control into war.
That's the usual pattern for those Emperors in the New World."
He paused, then added, "Besides, you know Linlin's temperament—she can go berserk over the smallest thing.
Whitebeard isn't the type to swallow insults either."
Roger fell silent for a moment and sighed.
"The problem is we're in the South Blue right now. Even if we wanted to intervene, we couldn't make it to the New World in time.
By the time we cross the Calm Belt and go around the Red Line, the battle over there will already be over."
"So we can't do anything about it," Rayleigh stated bluntly.
"And honestly, this is an internal matter for the New World.
What business does a small pirate crew from the South Blue have getting involved?"
Roger didn't reply, only picked up the newspaper to read it again.
His gaze lingered on a particular name.
Raiver.
The report mentioned in passing: The Emperor of the Fengtian Empire, Raiver, has yet to comment on the matter.
"That guy..." Roger murmured, "He'll probably go."
Rayleigh understood his implication. "You mean Raiver will try to mediate?"
"Both Whitebeard and Linlin are former members of Rocks' crew, and so is Raiver.
That guy is the strongest and holds the highest status now. If he says something, those two will have to show him some respect."
Rayleigh thought it over and nodded. "That makes sense."
Just then, two small figures came running out from the back of the bar on their short legs.
"Captain!"
"Vice Captain!"
Two boys, around seven years old, one with red hair and the other with blue hair—Shanks and Buggy—rushed over and clung to Roger and Rayleigh's legs.
The gravity on Roger's face instantly melted away as he laughed and stretched out both arms, scooping up both little ones in a single motion.
"Oof! You've gotten heavier!" he exclaimed dramatically. "Did you two sneakily eat all the pastries Miss Rouge made?"
"No way!" Buggy protested loudly. "Shanks ate the most!"
"You ate plenty too!" Shanks retorted.
The two little ones bickered back and forth in Roger's embrace, amusing the surrounding crew members who burst into laughter.
Rouge emerged from behind the bar, smiling as she placed two cups of warm milk on the counter.
Her gaze toward Shanks and Buggy was gentle and affectionate, as if looking at her own children.
"Mr. Roger, let them have some milk."
"Right away!" Roger settled the two little ones on the barstools and pushed the milk cups toward them.
Shanks and Buggy immediately reached out their small hands to grasp the cups, gulping down the milk with audible swallows.
Roger watched them with soft eyes.
He secretly glanced at Rouge behind the bar—she was lowering her head to wipe glasses, her freckles faintly visible under the lighting.
Rayleigh observed everything with a meaningful smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Without exposing anything, he simply picked up his wine glass and walked toward another table of crew members, leaving this small space to his captain.
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