Twenty minutes later.
Back at the port.
Roger leaned over the railing of the Oro Jackson, staring absentmindedly at the nearby forest on the island.
Before long, Spencer emerged from the trees, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
"Huh? Where's Valthior?" Roger asked curiously.
As he approached the harbor, Spencer casually exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "We found a few locals and cross-checked the info. The Knock Up Stream won't happen for at least another month. No way we're staying on the ship that whole time, right? So I came back first to let you know. Valthior's cleaning up the town."
"Cleaning up the town?" Roger froze for a moment, then seemed to understand something. He smacked his lips. "At least a month, huh? Guess we'll have to rest here properly."
Nearby, Gaban was sharpening his axe blade with a whetstone. Hearing this, he grinned and said, "So that means all the ships in the harbor right now are unclaimed, right?"
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Nozdon burst out laughing. "Let's go loot those unclaimed ships—don't let it go to waste!"
At his call, part of the Roger Pirates eagerly disembarked and began hauling supplies from other ships.
Once they were finished, they left the Ganryu to guard the ship, while the rest strolled boldly toward Mock Town.
When Spencer and Valthior had come earlier, they could hear the town's liveliness from afar.
But now, it was much quieter.
Even so, the smell of blood hung heavily in the air from a distance.
"You call this 'cleaning up the town'? I can smell the blood from all the way here…" Roger complained as he walked.
"I don't want to sleep in a pile of corpses. And at this temperature, if no one handles it, the stench by tomorrow will be unbearable…" Rayleigh waved his hand in front of his nose, looking disgusted.
"Spencer, I suggest you don't let Valthior act alone next time. He looks refined on the surface, but he's basically a chopping maniac. Same thing happened in the South Blue…" Gaban laughed.
At their last stop in the South Blue—Daranis Island—the Roger Pirates had clashed with local nobles over some trivial matter.
The result? They slaughtered over three hundred people in the noble estate…
Clearly, it had been a group effort, but from Gaban's tone, it sounded like Valthior had done it all himself.
As they joked, the group entered the town.
There they saw Valthior sitting atop a mound of at least sixty or seventy corpses. Blood still dripped thickly from the axe in his hand, while chunks of flesh lay scattered across the streets.
Fortunately, a group of locals—terrified out of their wits—were cleaning up the remains with various tools.
"You guys are slow. I've already killed off all the useless trash in the town. Only left these ones who can work. Sure, they're not exactly good people either, but at least they're useful—they can clean up garbage…" Valthior said casually from atop the corpse pile.
Shakky looked at the scene and laughed. "You shouldn't be a pirate—you should be a Marine."
"Ai, you're wrong there. He's a Celestial Dragon. Doing things like this is perfectly within character," Rayleigh added.
Valthior jumped down from the pile and beckoned to a trembling figure nearby. Then he said to Gaban, "This guy's the town's shipwright. He specializes in repairing pirate ships. Apparently, quite a few pirate crews have tried to challenge the Knock Up Stream before—but according to him, they all died. Of course, that's none of our concern. But he says if we want to ride the Knock Up Stream, we'll need to modify the ship…"
Gaban immediately asked, "What kind of modifications?"
The shipwright of the Roger Pirates, Blumarine, also chimed in, "Do you have blueprints? So you're saying a lot of pirates try to challenge the Knock Up Stream?"
The shipwright didn't dare hide anything, afraid he'd be killed if deemed useless. He quickly explained:
Basically, the ship needs things like wind wings installed. Some setups also require additional paddles and external propulsion wheels.
Over the next few days, the Roger Pirates began modifying the Oro Jackson.
Mock Town—no, the entire Jaya Island—fell into an eerie calm, becoming a temporary base for the Roger Pirates.
The locals, who had once been capable of every evil imaginable, became docile in front of these bloodthirsty monsters. Every day, they kept the streets spotless and even prepared fresh food for them.
Occasionally, every few days, pirates drawn by Mock Town's reputation would arrive.
Their fate was simple: hand over all their treasure, then leave the area in tears.
Those stubborn enough to resist became practice targets for Valthior's axe.
And so, time slowly passed, reaching January of the Year 1487 in the Sea Circle Calendar.
...
On the shore of Jaya's harbor—
Valthior stood shirtless, his upper body bare, Armament Haki condensed around his fists as he repeatedly struck a block of iron before him.
The iron block looked slightly smaller than before—he was getting closer to forging it into an iron cap.
Not far away on the beach—
Roger lay on a lounge chair, a straw hat covering his face. The morning sunlight bathed him in warmth, making for a comfortable scene.
Judging from the scattered empty bottles beside him, he had clearly drunk himself into a stupor the night before and passed out right there.
Before long, two figures emerged from the waves—it was Rayleigh and his girlfriend Shakky, the best swimmers in the crew.
The two had come early in the morning to splash around in the sea, openly showing off their affection.
"I could swim from here all the way to Amazon Lily!" Rayleigh declared boldly, standing up from the water and brushing back his wet golden hair.
"Wow, you're amazing… are you better than a Fish-Man or something?" Shakky teased.
Soon after, Gaban came down from the Oro Jackson, which was still undergoing modifications, holding a newspaper.
"Hey, hey—there's an interesting piece of news today," Gaban called out casually.
Valthior didn't respond. He continued breathing heavily, pushing his stamina to the limit, each punch striking the iron block with full force.
Roger didn't hear a thing—he was still fast asleep.
So Rayleigh picked up the conversation, flexing his well-built body as he asked, "What news?"
"Shiki found that guy Red in the New World and tried to recruit him. They couldn't reach an agreement, so they fought in the Spara Sea," Gaban said with a grin.
"Red?" Shakky asked, puzzled, clearly unfamiliar with the name.
"Redfield," Rayleigh explained. "The 'Red the Aloof.'"
"Oh, him. Sounds like you guys are on good terms?" Shakky smiled.
"More or less. Roger gets along with him pretty well. You could say they became acquainted through fighting. That was before we reached Water 7…" Rayleigh sat down on a nearby rock and began recounting.
Patrick Redfield.
A peculiar pirate in the New World, incredibly powerful, possessing the ability to hear people's thoughts. His Observation Haki was monstrously strong, earning him the titles "The Red the Aloof" and "Red Count."
He was extremely solitary, never traveling with others—he had no companions.
But he loved seeking out strong opponents. Shiki, Newgate, Garp, and Sengoku had all fought him before.
Six years ago, he suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Rocks and disappeared for a long time. Only before the Roger Pirates reached Water 7 did he reappear.
Because he could hear people's thoughts, he had witnessed too much darkness.
But Roger, of all people, had an unusually simple and straightforward mind.
After their clash, the two formed a fairly good relationship.
Back then, Roger had even invited Redfield to join his crew—but was rejected.
Who would've thought that now Shiki had gone looking for him as well?
The New World was getting more and more interesting.