An unnamed island.
The sun was shining, and a gentle breeze blew.
On the wooden villa's terrace, Kane lay sprawled on a beach chair like a salted fish, wearing sunglasses.
A glass of chilled juice beside him was still giving off a cool mist.
Not far away, Rouge, already showing signs of pregnancy, hummed a tune as she sewed a small piece of clothing for her unborn child, her expression serene and gentle.
The scene was so peaceful and idyllic that it hardly seemed like the world of pirates—more like the recuperation life of a retired veteran.
If it weren't for that damned Den Den Mushi making an incessant racket.
Buru buru… Buru buru…
Kane picked up the call with a look of annoyance.
"Moshi moshi, this is the G-5 Branch Recuperation Center. Whoever you are, you'd better have something important to say, or I'll crawl through this line and smash your head in."
"…It's me, Kong."
On the other end of the line, Fleet Admiral Kong's voice sounded choked, clearly taken aback.
Kane's attitude instantly did a one-eighty. He straightened slightly from his slouched position, his tone turning weak and filled with the tragic grandeur of "rising from a deathbed in shock."
"Ahem… Fleet Admiral Kong. My apologies, I just finished changing my bandages, and the pain is making me delirious. You know, for the sake of Justice, my body…"
"Enough! Cut the act!"
Fleet Admiral Kong roared, unable to bear it any longer. "I asked Sakazuki, and he said your injuries healed long ago!"
"Tsk, Sakazuki and his big mouth," Kane muttered under his breath before adopting a serious tone. "Fleet Admiral, what are your orders?"
The voice on the other end turned unusually grave, carrying a chilling, solemn air.
"Gol D. Roger has been secretly transferred to Loguetown in the East Blue."
"The World Government's final order has come down."
"Public execution in half a month."
Kane raised an eyebrow, twirling the cigar between his fingers.
So the day had finally come.
"The Five Elders intend for this execution to be an unprecedented spectacle, to show the entire world the consequences of challenging the World Government."
Kong's voice was devoid of emotion.
"You are the hero who personally captured the Pirate King. It's only fitting that you bring this chapter of 'Justice' to its conclusion."
"Therefore, you will serve as the chief supervising officer for this execution and proceed to Loguetown immediately."
Supervising officer?
Kane was taken aback for a moment before a grin spread across his face.
Making the prisoner watch as the very person who arrested him oversees his execution.
Those old geezers really know how to play.
But… this is a great opportunity to rack up points.
"Understood." Kane's tone instantly turned "resolute," brimming with the tragic sense of sacrifice for Justice. "For Justice, even with this broken body of mine, I'll crawl all the way to Loguetown if I have to!"
Hanging up the call.
He looked toward the East Blue, his gaze growing profound.
"The wheels of the era are finally about to start turning."
Rouge, who had been sewing, seemed to sense something and paused her needlework, casting a questioning glance his way.
Kane said nothing.
He stood up, flicked the half-smoked cigar into the sea, and cracked his neck.
A series of crisp, popping sounds echoed from his joints.
It was time to send that old bastard on his final journey.
...
One week later.
East Blue, Loguetown.
"The Town of Beginnings and Endings."
At this moment, the small town was enveloped in a morbid frenzy.
The relentless drizzle continued, yet it couldn't extinguish the volatile tension in the air, ready to ignite at any moment.
The Pirate King would be executed here.
This news had spread across the world as if on wings, drawing countless people from all directions, all eager to witness the end of the legend firsthand.
Pirates, bounty hunters, journalists, Revolutionary Army spies, and even more ordinary onlookers packed every street to the brim.
A warship flying the Marine Headquarters flag cut through the curtain of rain, slowly sailing into the port.
The massive anchor plunged into the water, stirring up a cloud of murky spray.
As the gangway was lowered, two rows of fully armed Navy soldiers had already formed up on the docks.
When that tall figure draped in a "Justice" coat appeared on the deck, the noisy dock fell silent for an instant.
Navy Admiral, codename "Calamity," Kane.
The man who had personally dragged the Pirate King down from his pedestal.
Kane ignored the surrounding gazes—a mix of awe, hatred, and admiration—merely tugging at his collar to shield himself from the annoying drizzle.
His gaze swept over the sea of people, landing precisely on the center of the town.
On the tall execution platform that had already been erected.
"What terrible weather," Kane muttered. "On a day like this, you should be hiding under the covers, not coming to this godforsaken place to watch an execution."
The Navy personnel from Loguetown behind him wanted to respond but didn't dare, only managing an awkward, ingratiating smile.
He waved his hand, declining the welcoming banquet offered by the local garrison commander, and alone, like a drop of water merging into the ocean, disappeared into the labyrinthine alleys of Loguetown.
...
Loguetown Navy Base, underground death row.
Before the solitary cell at the deepest end.
Kane dismissed all the guards, pulled over a chair by himself, and sat down in front of the heavy iron bars.
The cell was deathly silent.
"You're here?"
From the darkness came a hoarse yet still vigorous voice.
Accompanied by the clanking of dragging chains, a figure slowly moved to the edge of the bars.
Roger looked worse than before.
His signature wild black hair now appeared dry and brittle, his eyes sunken, his skin taking on a sickly, ashen pallor.
Seastone Handcuffs and shackles heavily bound his limbs, but the grin on his face remained wide, revealing two rows of stark white teeth.
As if death, to him, was merely a new adventure.
"Brought you something good."
Kane pulled two unlabeled bottles of liquor from a black cloth bag, sliding one through the gap in the bars.
"Homemade brew from the South Blue. Strong, but doesn't give you a headache."
Roger's eyes lit up. He bit off the cork with his teeth and tilted his head back, guzzling it down.
Gulp, gulp.
The fiery liquor poured down his throat. Roger coughed violently twice, a flush of color rising on his pale face, followed by a hearty laugh.
"Ha! Refreshing! You brat, finally did something decent!"
Kane opened a bottle for himself and took a slow, deliberate sip.
"Rouge is settled now. Nice scenery, the sea right outside her door. I think she's even put on a little weight recently, looks better than I do."
Roger paused mid-drink.
He didn't say thank you, only gripping the bottle tighter, a flicker of tenderness and relief that only men understand flashing in his eyes.
"That's good... it's good to be chubby. That way, my kid will be born a brat who can turn the sea upside down!"
"Don't dream," Kane mercilessly poured cold water on his hopes. "I'll send him to Navy school, starting as a cabin boy. When he catches pirates later, even if he catches your old crewmates, I'll have him cut them down all the same."
Roger was stunned for a moment, then burst into even more uproarious laughter, laughing so hard tears nearly spilled from his eyes.
"Wahahaha! Hilarious! Too hilarious! The Pirate King's son becoming a Navy man? That's probably the funniest joke I've heard in my life!"
He laughed so hard he slapped his thigh, the chains on his body clanking noisily.
Kane watched him laugh quietly until Roger had laughed his fill, leaning against the wall panting heavily. Only then did Kane lean forward slightly, lowering his voice.
The atmosphere was just right now—three rounds of drinks deep, camaraderie established—time to talk business.
"Hey, Roger."
Kane's voice was soft, unusually clear in the cold, damp death cell.
"Some things are meaningless to take to the grave. How about... giving me the location of that great treasure of yours?"
The air suddenly fell silent.
The smile hadn't fully faded from Roger's face. He tilted his head, his eyes first flashing with a hint of astonishment before that astonishment transformed into undisguised amusement.
"Location?" Roger blinked. "Laugh Tale?"
"Right. Even if there's no specific coordinates, an Eternal Pose would do."
Kane flicked his cigarette ash, his tone as casual as if he were asking a street vendor for a light.
Roger stared at Kane for a full half minute. Then, his expression turned strange.
"Didn't you say before that you had no interest in those historical truths, in that so-called great treasure? That you only wanted power and fame?!"
"A man's words are a devil's lies—you actually believed that?" Kane didn't blush or his heart race. "This is what they call 'times change.' Look, I'm helping you raise your wife and child. The expenses are huge, aren't they? Asking for some child support isn't too much, is it?"
The excuse was shameless yet carried a refreshingly unique logic.
After hearing it, Roger was stunned for a moment, then that familiar, punch-worthy laughter exploded once more in the cell.
"Wahahaha!! Kane! You bastard! You really are one of a kind!"
Roger laughed until he was breathless, pointing at Kane's nose with his shackled hand as he laughed.
"No! Absolutely not!"
Kane's face darkened. "Why? I'm cleaning up your mess, and you're this stingy?"
"It's not about the money!" Roger wiped away the tears of laughter from the corner of his eye, but his expression suddenly turned somewhat solemn—the last bit of insistence belonging to a king.
"That's an 'adventure,' Kane."
Roger's voice lowered, carrying a magnetic depth like the sea.
"If someone directly tells you where the destination is, what meaning does the voyage have? If you know the ending, then all the storms, the laughter and tears along the way—don't they all become worthless?"
"My whole life was for that final glimpse. You want to see it? Then go find it yourself!"
"Whether it's you, or the brats who want to set sail in the future."
Roger fiercely gulped down the remaining half bottle of liquor in his hand, waving his arm with heroic abandon, even though the motion tugged at his wounds.
Kane watched this old bastard who, even until death, clung to so-called "romance," and couldn't help but roll his eyes dramatically.
To hell with your damn romance.
I'm a pragmatist, understand? Efficiency comes first.
"You're hopelessly stubborn."
Kane cursed irritably, stood up, and brushed the dust off his pant legs.
"Fine, since you won't give it, I'll find it myself. But if I end up clearing out your precious treasure or selling off that so-called truth for money, don't get so angry in hell that you flip your coffin lid."
"Wahahaha! Do as you please!" Roger laughed arrogantly. "As long as you can get there! It's a destination only the freest can reach! You, a watchdog leashed by the World Government—I doubt you'll make it!"
"Provocation won't work on me."
Kane kicked the remaining bottle of liquor to Roger's feet.
"Drink up, it's the last one. Next time we meet will be on the execution platform."
Kane turned and walked away, waving a hand behind him without looking back.
"Hey... Kane."
Roger's voice suddenly came from behind. This time, there was no teasing or wild laughter, only a low, fatherly tone.
Kane stopped but didn't turn around.
"Thanks."
Just two simple words.
The corner of Kane's mouth twitched, and he let out a disdainful snort through his nose.
"Don't get the wrong idea. It was just a transaction. If that kid Ace grows up crooked, I'll still beat him up."
With that, he strode into the dark corridor without looking back.
Only after Kane's figure had completely disappeared did Roger lean back against the cold wall. He looked at the empty bottle in his hand, listening to the faint sound of rain outside, his smile gradually softening.
"Whether Navy or Pirate... this sea ultimately belongs to the young."
"Rayleigh... you all better watch closely. This kid is even more of a troublemaker than I am."
...
Leaving the death cell, the rain outside was falling harder.
Kane stood under the eaves and lit a cigar.
The cold, damp air mixed with the taste of tobacco filled his lungs, calming his mind, which had grown restless from the rejection.
Kane exhaled a smoke ring, his gaze deepening as he looked at the blurred execution platform through the rain.
If I can't find that island, then I'll just flip this world's table even more thoroughly.
As long as chaos erupts, as long as this stagnant water is stirred up, whether it's the Ancient Weapons or that damn Laugh Tale, they'll eventually surface.
"Admiral!"
A messenger ran over through the rain and saluted.
"Fleet Admiral Kong has called, asking if you've arrived and to confirm the execution procedures."
Kane tossed the expensive cigar, only two puffs in, into the muddy water and crushed it under his polished leather shoe.
"Tell the Fleet Admiral everything is ready."
He raised his head, revealing a ferocious smile that would give the messenger nightmares.
Also, notify them to push the cordon around the execution platform out another fifty meters."
"Since we're holding the world's biggest funeral, we might as well let everyone see it clearly."
"This show has only just begun."