The setting sun stretched the Oro Jackson's shadow across the deck. The sea breeze was gentle, but a heavy atmosphere lingered.
Crocus removed his stethoscope and silently shook his head.
Rhett stood at the cabin door, fists clenched so tight they turned white. Crimson mist seeped uncontrollably from his fingertips, only to be forcefully suppressed back into his body.
"Still… no good?" His voice was hoarse, barely recognizable.
Rhett had been transferring his life force to Roger since the Valley of the Gods. He'd even invited Crocus aboard early to tend to everyone's health. Back in 1494, Roger's body had shown no signs of illness. Rhett thought he'd altered history. But by 1497, Roger was diagnosed, and his condition had grown even more severe.
Damn this pirate world. This wasn't something he could accept.
Crocus sighed. "We've done everything we can. This illness is unique. Your life force can only delay it, not cure it."
Inside the cabin, Roger leaned against the bed, his face pale but still wearing a bright smile. He glanced at Rhett and beckoned him over. "What's with that sour face? Come drink with me! Weren't you all cocky before?"
Rhett strode over and snatched the bottle. "Drink my ass! You should be lying down right now! Maybe you'll live a couple more years that way."
Roger burst into laughter, which triggered a violent coughing fit. Blood stained his lips. Rayleigh silently offered a glass of water, but Roger waved it off and grabbed a bottle of rum instead, taking a hearty swig.
"Kuahahaha! What's a little sickness?" He wiped his mouth and scanned the room—Rayleigh, Gaban, Bullet, Shanks, Buggy, Oden…
His gaze finally settled on Rhett. "I've already lived a full life! And our dream is right there. How can we stop now?"
Rhett turned his face away, throat tight.
Over the years, he'd tried everything—using his blood mist to replenish Roger's life force, scouring the world for rare medicines.
But Roger's illness was like a curse from fate itself, impossible to reverse.
Rhett had never felt so powerless. The kind of powerlessness that came from giving everything and still being unable to change anything. It was suffocating.
"Hey, Rhett." Roger suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remember our first meeting? You were all ragged, asking if I'd become the Pirate King."
Rhett snorted. "You were the cocky one. Whatever I said, you believed it. You're the one who kept shouting about becoming the Pirate King."
Roger laughed louder, but it quickly turned into another coughing fit. When he recovered, he spoke softly. "But I really heard it… at the end of the world, there's an 'answer' waiting for us. We really might become the Pirate Kings we talk about."
Silence filled the cabin.
Bullet, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, suddenly spoke up. "So, are you giving up?"
This Bullet wasn't like the one from the original timeline, who left the crew after learning of Roger's illness and the subsequent decline in his strength.
Now, his goal was to defeat Rhett. As long as Rhett remained stronger, Bullet's chances of leaving the crew were practically zero.
His tone was as arrogant as ever, but clenched fists betrayed his true feelings. He couldn't understand why Rhett would follow such a sickly captain.
Roger shook his head, a sharp glint in his eyes. "No, I'm going to complete my final voyage—to the final island!" (This was the island Roger would later name Laugh Tale.)
Rayleigh's head snapped up. "Your body—"
"It's enough," Roger interrupted. "Crocus said I still have some time left. That's enough!"
Rhett glared at him. "Are you out of your damn mind? If we head to the final island now, the World Government will hound us like rabid dogs! If you just lay low, you might—"
Rhett met Roger's unwavering gaze and couldn't finish the sentence.
Roger was the Pirate King who had ushered in the Great Pirate Era. In the original timeline, he never stopped. And now, he wouldn't either.
Roger grinned. "Isn't that even better? Let those bastards see—how the Pirate King makes his exit!"
He stood up, wobbling slightly. Rhett instinctively reached out to steady him, but Roger grabbed his wrist instead.
"Rhett." Roger's voice was soft but carried undeniable force. "The road ahead… I need you to help me finish it."
Rhett's pupils contracted.
Suddenly, he understood what Roger was trying to do.
"You—"
Roger didn't let him finish. He turned and pushed open the cabin door.
The sea breeze rushed in, dispersing some of the heaviness. Roger stood in the sunset, his straw hat casting a shadow over his face, but his laughter remained robust.
"Let's set sail, mates! Let the world—remember our names!"
On the deck, Shanks and Buggy raised their arms, their eyes red. Brook's violin began playing "Binks' Sake" at some point. Bullet snorted but was the first to head for the helm.
Rhett stood still, watching Roger's back.
After a long moment, he wiped his face.
"Damn… always causing me trouble."
But as he stepped out of the cabin, a long-lost smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
In the days that followed, the Roger Pirates went completely mad.
On the deck, Roger gripped the railing with one hand and held a crimson-red rubbing of a Poneglyph in the other. The wind whipped his coat violently. His face was paler than it had been three months ago, but the fire in his eyes burned fiercer than ever.
"Just two more pieces—" His voice was hoarse but brimming with excitement. "Rayleigh! Hard to port! Head for Totto Land!"
Rayleigh clenched his cigar between his teeth and turned the wheel sharply, but his words were cutting. "Have you lost your mind? Charlotte Linlin deliberately leaked the location of the second piece to lure us in! We don't even know if it's real."
Roger laughed, his voice mingling with coughs. "Kuahahaha! Then let's go see for ourselves!"
Inside the cabin, Rhett slammed a map onto the table, crimson mist seeping uncontrollably from his body.
"After Totto Land, it's Zou… Can't we shorten the time any further? Damn it, couldn't Oda have written this more clearly?"
Rhett glanced at the medicine simmering beside the table—a remedy Crocus and he had developed to alleviate the symptoms.
He grabbed a bottle and walked out.
"Drink this." He shoved the bottle directly to Roger's mouth.
Roger blinked. "Wow, so fierce—"
"Shut up!" Rhett bared his shark-like teeth. "Do you want to die halfway?!"
The sea breeze suddenly stilled.
Roger looked at this companion he had known for over twenty years and slowly stopped smiling. He took the bottle and drank it all in one go, then pulled Rhett into a tight embrace.
"Don't worry," he whispered in Rhett's ear. "I'll definitely show you that answer."