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The forest was silent.
Morning sunlight spilled down, illuminating Gol D. Roger's face as he stood with his back to Kyle.
Kyle was stunned, falling silent for a moment.
He couldn't quite understand it.
For three days and three nights, Roger had held absolute dominance. Only just now had his condition collapsed due to his illness.
And yet… Roger wanted to teach him swordsmanship?
"Or," Roger said calmly, "you can arrest me right now."
"For you, that would be easy."
He stretched out his hands, completely unresisting.
Even at his weakest, facing imminent capture, the man wore a relaxed smile, utterly unconcerned.
Kyle's eyes flickered as he weighed Roger's intentions.
A pirate offering to teach swordsmanship to a Marine.
There was no denying it. Roger's lifetime of battle had forged terrifying experience and technique. The same strength wielded by Roger and by Kyle were two entirely different things.
Especially his swordsmanship. It was undoubtedly among the very best in the world.
After about three breaths, Kyle suddenly smiled.
"You're trying to trade this for time, aren't you?"
Roger smiled back. "I don't have much time left. I just want to leave something behind for this world."
Then he looked at Kyle seriously.
"Everyone who lives has their moment to take the stage."
"Marine Kyle… I think I can vaguely see your future. I can hear what's calling out in your heart."
"This power will help you."
Kyle relaxed completely, smiling.
"Then it's a deal."
He was deeply interested in Roger's swordsmanship, in everything the man had learned in his life. As for trading with a pirate, that was trivial to him.
"Thank you," Roger said, visibly relieved.
With his illness, he might dominate in battle, but the moment it relapsed, defeat was inevitable.
If he were captured now… he would owe Rouge too much.
Yes. He needed to leave something behind.
Proof that he had existed. Everything he had learned.
After the deal was struck, Kyle temporarily stayed on the island.
Everyone else on the ship, including Crocodile, Douglas Bullet, Donquixote Rosinante, and T-Bone, kept the matter strictly confidential. They supported their superior without hesitation.
Kyle even entrusted them with suppressing pirates in the South Blue.
From that day on, he became a hands-off commander, staying by Roger's side to learn swordsmanship.
Roger began teaching him the very next day.
This was a completely different school of swordsmanship from Bogard's. Roger taught from the basics, meticulous and serious.
To Kyle's relief, he discovered that beyond physical combat, he had real talent with the sword. He learned quickly.
The weapon in his hand was a standard-issue Marine saber, one he usually wore at his waist and often didn't even bother carrying.
"Swinging a sword isn't the same as throwing a punch," Roger said.
"It requires technique. Awareness of your surroundings. Of space. Of the world itself."
"Immerse yourself in your weapon. See the world from its perspective. Feel its breathing."
"When you grasp the world's rhythm and tempo…"
"You'll be able to cut through anything."
Roger spoke softly.
Kyle nodded, honing himself with care, reflecting on every detail.
How to swing the blade, how to channel force, body posture, choosing the angle of attack. All of that he had already learned before. What Roger taught now clearly focused more on intent and subtlety.
Because of this, Kyle meditated every day, adjusting his breathing.
The benefit was obvious. His perception of the world around him became sharper, clearer, more refined.
"A blade is the belief in your heart. Grip it. Swing it."
"Cut through everything in front of you, whether it has form or not."
"When the blade moves as your heart commands, when you think of cutting and it cuts, when you decide not to cut and even if the blade passes through it remains unbroken, then you have succeeded."
Days passed one by one. Roger's instruction was meticulous.
Kyle was certain of one thing. This man who had already become the Pirate King was holding nothing back.
It was as if he truly regarded Kyle as a successor, someone worthy of inheriting his path, and was pouring everything he had into him during the little time he had left.
Five months later, Kyle finally voiced his doubt.
"To me, this was just a deal. A way to extend your freedom a little longer."
"But you're teaching me with everything you've got."
Hearing this, Roger slowly stood up. Facing the sea, he suddenly grinned wide.
"Kid Kyle."
"I'm the King of the Pirates. And what are pirates?"
"The freest people on this sea. And I'm the king of the freest of them all."
"I do whatever I want, freely."
He paused, then turned back to look at Kyle.
"I pass my swordsmanship on to you. As long as you someday face the sea, face this world, and swing your blade even once."
"That will mean…"
Roger laughed loudly.
"That I'm still alive."
"That I'll never die."
Suddenly, he drew the saber at his waist, the one named Ace, and thrust it toward the sky.
"And more than that."
"I heard your roar at this world."
"I heard your desperate desire to change it."
"I heard that restless heart of yours, shouting every moment that you are different from everyone else."
Taking a deep breath, Roger fixed his gaze on Kyle.
"Kid."
"My time is running out. You're the bet I placed before I die."
The blunt honesty shook Kyle to his core. Sitting cross-legged by the shore, his eyes gradually grew deep.
He suddenly realized that the man before him could hear all things. Perhaps even the voices Kyle himself could not hear within his own heart were laid bare to Roger with ease.
"There's something terribly wrong with this world."
"I no longer have the chance to change it. But those who come after are still young."
"You can do it. You absolutely can."
Roger walked over and plopped down beside Kyle, set Ace into the sand, and smiled into the sea breeze.
"I'm retired now."
Kyle fell silent.
During this time together, he had come to understand Roger deeply and admired him from the bottom of his heart.
Free, bold, optimistic, open-minded, overflowing with personal charisma. When he sat beside you, when he spoke to you face to face, it was impossible not to trust him.
Roger truly was a man worthy of awe.
Not just for his physical strength, but for that intangible, almost unreal spiritual will.
"My time isn't much."
"If you ever get the chance, please look after Portgas D. Rouge in the future."
Roger suddenly added with a smile.
Kyle turned his head and looked at the mustached man beside him.
"In your life, do you have any regrets?"
Roger froze for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"Regrets?"
"When do humans actually die?"
"..."
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