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Year 1500 of the Sea Calendar.
The Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, had been captured and imprisoned.
At the same time, the name of Marine Rear Admiral Kyle spread like wildfire throughout the world.
The seas erupted.
Marine prestige surged to an unprecedented height, and countless pirates who had been itching to move suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over their heads.
The latter half of the Grand Line.
Aboard the Moby Dick.
"Marine… Kyle."
"Is that the kid Roger mentioned before?"
The deep voice belonged to a towering man with blond hair and a crescent-shaped white mustache.
His massive frame dwarfed everyone around him. Even seated, he radiated crushing authority, a presence that made the air itself feel heavy.
Edward Newgate.
Whitebeard. One of the three great pirate legends of the world.
"Pops, something about this feels off," Marco said, frowning.
"Roger isn't the kind of man who gets captured so easily."
Newgate narrowed his eyes, then let out a low chuckle.
"You're right."
"But what really interests me is that Marine brat mentioned in the report."
Marco blinked. "You mean Kyle?"
"I never paid him much attention before. Just another young Marine with some talent."
"But now his name shows up again, tied directly to Roger."
Newgate's voice grew heavier, his gaze sharpening.
"This kid… even Roger kept him in mind."
Facing the sea breeze, Whitebeard slowly looked into the distance.
"So tell me."
"Did you truly have the strength to capture Roger?"
"Or is there something else behind all this?"
His thoughts drifted to the visit Roger had paid him the year before. The way he spoke back then felt like a farewell, like a man who had already made an enormous decision.
"What did you see on that island, Roger?"
Murmuring to himself, Newgate lowered his gaze back to the newspaper in his hand.
At the same time.
The wind howled.
A shattered fleet of flying ships hovered above the ocean.
A man with long blond hair cascading down his shoulders stood on the deck. A ship's helm was embedded in his skull, and his presence was as ferocious as a lion king.
Suddenly, his body trembled.
A violent shockwave exploded outward, sending nearby pirates stumbling as they struggled to keep their footing.
"Boss?!"
The crew stared at the towering figure in disbelief.
"No way…"
"This is impossible!"
Golden Lion Shiki's expression twisted, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Roger? Captured by the Marines?"
"And by some young punk like this?!"
His gaze locked onto the youthful face printed in the newspaper.
Then, abruptly, his expression froze.
He recognized that face.
"It's him."
The memory surged back.
Two years ago, during the Battle of Edd War, that very face had been surrounded by his fleet. Back then, Shiki hadn't even bothered to take the man seriously.
And now he was being told that same man had captured Roger?
"Shi hahahaha!"
Shiki threw his head back and laughed, but his eyes were razor-sharp.
"How could something like this ever happen?"
"If Roger was going to die…"
"It shouldn't be at the hands of the Marines."
"Being captured by someone this weak is an insult to the Pirate King."
"And an even greater insult to me, the man who stood on equal footing with him!"
The next instant, Shiki spread his arms wide. His mane-like hair whipped wildly in the air.
A deep hum echoed through the sky.
Space itself seemed to tremble as ripples spread outward. The entire fleet behind him shook violently.
"I'm going to Marineford."
Shiki roared.
Every pirate behind him stared in shock.
"Captain Shiki?!"
A cadre shouted, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"I, Golden Lion Shiki, will never accept this humiliation!"
He bent down sharply and slammed his palm into the deck.
A thunderous shockwave erupted.
Pirates were blasted into the air, screaming as they tumbled off the ships.
"This kind of thing…"
"I'll handle it alone."
Standing at the prow, Shiki stared straight ahead, blond hair billowing behind him.
The massive fleet surged forward, roaring through the skies toward Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
"Marines…"
"Prepare yourselves for my wrath!"
Marine Headquarters. Impel Down. Level Six, Infinite Hell.
Clang. Rattle.
Chains collided as the Seastone prison gate slammed shut.
Garp dropped heavily to the ground outside the cell, staring at the man on the other side of the bars. His expression was complicated.
"I never thought the next time I saw you… it'd be like this."
Roger looked up and burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! Garp!"
"Feeling a bit disappointed?"
"You spent your whole life trying to throw me in here."
"And in the end, it was your own student who did it."
Garp rolled his eyes. The tangled emotions in his chest scattered like smoke.
He fixed his gaze on the man before him.
"That pointless chase is finally over."
Roger's grin faded.
"Yeah. It's finally over."
"That sword," Garp said suddenly, his voice low.
He was thinking of the blade at Kyle's waist.
"I gave it to him. Surprised?"
Roger smiled.
"That thing is more than just a sword," Garp said.
"It was his choice," Roger replied calmly.
Garp fell silent.
In a lifetime, how many true equals could one meet? How many rivals could become something closer to friends?
Even as enemies, they had always understood each other.
Now, seeing Roger imprisoned here, Garp felt an unexpected hollowness, a quiet sense of loss.
"Garp," Roger said suddenly, his smile gone.
"I need to ask you for a favor."
"Oh?" Garp replied.
"I have a son."
Roger spoke slowly.
"I've entrusted him to Kyle."
"But—"
Garp's pupils shrank sharply.
In the dim corridors of Infinite Hell, candlelight flickered weakly, casting long shadows. Their voices grew lower and lower until they faded into nothing.
Marineford.
"Whoooooosh!"
The sea wind howled.
Standing at the highest point of the Marine fortress, Kyle looked down over the world below.
At that moment, everything lay within his sight.
Behind them, Bullet was barking orders nonstop, directing Crocodile, Rosinante, and the others through their training.
This squad that belonged to him was drenched in sweat every day, and their strength was rising at a visible pace.
Over the past year, none of them had slacked off. Crocodile, Rosinante, T. Bone, and the rest had all pushed their physical abilities to a superhuman level.
In other words, they were finally qualified to start learning the Six Powers.
Kyle had no intention of keeping secrets. Once Roger's execution was over, he planned to teach them the Six Powers himself.
They didn't need to master every technique. Understanding the moves they felt drawn to would be more than enough.
"Ha…"
Kyle exhaled a mouthful of smoke, eyes narrowing slightly.
"It's about time I went looking for that fruit."
At this point, aside from Observation Haki, he had hit a wall in almost every area. Armament Haki, the Six Powers, swordsmanship… all of them had reached a point where further improvement was painfully slow.
If he wanted to grow stronger again, there was only one path left.
A Devil Fruit.
For now, his sights were firmly set on the Goro Goro no Mi.
There was no question about it. That fruit was terrifyingly powerful.
"..."
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