Kaido grabbed a sake pot as tall as a man, tilted his head back, and chugged it down.
Amber-colored sake overflowed from his mouth, trickled down his blue dragon-scaled tattoo, and soaked his open clothes.
The sake pot creaked as he squeezed it, finally shattering with a snap.
"King!" Kaido flicked off the fragments of the sake pot, his voice like thunder, "Get me ten barrels of strong liquor! This time, I'm writing a sequel on my phone!" His eyes gleamed with a dangerous red light, "I'll make that pretentious Red Hair brat cry and admit defeat!"
King nodded silently, signaling his subordinates to hurry and prepare.
Several Beasts Pirates members timidly carried over a specially made explosion-proof phone stand, which Queen had modified specifically for Kaido, capable of withstanding Four Emperors-level typing force.
Kaido sat cross-legged on his throne, a small phone screen placed before his three-meter-tall body. His thick fingers clumsily poked at the virtual keyboard, stopping to chug a mouthful of sake after every few words. When the alcohol hit him, he'd pound the keyboard, sending sparks flying.
"Ch-Chapter Twenty..." he mumbled drunkenly, "I'm going to write... that Red Hair brat kneeling at Onigashima's entrance... begging me to take him as a subordinate..."
Suddenly, he slammed his fist on the armrest: "No! That's too easy for him!" Ferocity blazed in Kaido's eyes. "I'll write about him being beaten to tears by my club at Marineford! And Sengoku, that old geezer, wetting his pants in fear next to him!"
In the corner of the palace, Jack quietly asked Queen, "Is it really okay for Lord/Master Kaido to write like this...?"
Queen wiped the sweat from his forehead: "Shh... We'll talk about it when he sobers up..."
....
On the deck of the Red Force, the setting sun dyed the entire Sea golden-red.
Shanks leaned against the ship's rail, the shadow of his cloak concealing his smiling eyes. On his phone screen, reader comments were refreshing at an astonishing speed:
[I cried, this is the true Pirate King spirit!]
[Shanks wrote it so well, Captain Roger must be very pleased in heaven]
[Compared to Kaido's self-indulgent writing, this is a masterpiece worth collecting]
"Heh..." Shanks gently tapped the screen with his index finger, scrolling through comments from all over the world.
The sea breeze ruffled his red short hair, carrying a salty scent.
He raised a hand to adjust his slightly askew scarf, a warm smile curving his lips: "It seems everyone still remembers what Captain Roger was like."
Beside him, Beckman leaned against the mast, his silver long hair gently fluttering in the wind.
He exhaled a perfect smoke ring, his sharp gaze sweeping over the enthusiastic comments:
"Captain, you've started a literary revolution." The cigarette butt glowed in the twilight. "Now the New World is abuzz with discussions about 'the true Pirate spirit,' and even the Marine has taken notice."
Yasopp poked his head out from the crow's nest, laughing loudly: "I just saw Marco of the Whitebeard Pirates like our post! That old bird rarely shows up on social media!"
"What does'still needs practice' mean?"
"Does it mean the writing needs to be more refined?"
Lucky Roux, while gnawing on a chicken leg, leaned over: "Benn is right, TikTok is full of fanfiction imitating Captain's writing style now." His greasy fingers scrolled across the screen. "Look at this 'Ace's Logbook,' it's pretty well-written."
Shanks looked out at the horizon where the Sea met the sky, a flock of seagulls soaring over the waves.
He stroked the familiar worn spot on the edge of his cloak, murmuring, "The era that Captain Roger ushered in shouldn't be defined by violent fantasies like Kaido's." His single arm rested on the hilt of his cutlass. "Some things are worth preserving through writing."
Benn snuffed out his cigarette, a rare smile on his face: "So? Are you going to continue writing a sequel? I'm sure many readers are looking forward to the Red Hair Pirates' seafaring stories."
Shanks suddenly burst into hearty laughter, grabbing a sake barrel from the deck: "Before that, let's toast to this unexpected 'novel victory'!" He raised the barrel high, "To everyone who still remembers the shape of their dreams!"
The cheers of the crew echoed on the Red Force, startling more seagulls.
And in the ship's cabin, a young crew member was secretly writing in his diary: "Today, Captain Shanks taught us that true strength isn't just about speaking with a sword, but also about moving hearts with a pen..."
On the distant horizon, the sun had fully set, but Shanks's novel page continued to flicker, its likes approaching the one hundred million mark.
This "New World Novel Craze," personally penned by the Four Emperors, had only just begun.
....
However, in this Sea of the strong preying on the weak, passion and violence have always been the unchanging main themes.
While odes to dreams and friendship are moving, in the face of absolute power and naked self-interest, they can only become secondary.
Kaido's novel sequel, filled with violent aesthetics, was spreading rapidly among Pirates.
In the New World's most famous "Blood Axe Tavern," the murky scent of rum mingled with the acrid smell of tobacco. Two dozen drunken Pirates sat around a long wooden table. Kerosene lamps hanging on the walls cast their shadows on the mottled walls, twisting and deforming with the rocking of the ship.
"Listen up! Lord/Master Kaido's latest chapter!" A one-eyed Pirate suddenly jumped onto the table, his greasy leather boots overturning several sake cups.
His thick fingers trembled as he held his phone, reading hoarsely: "'Kaido's spiked club, wreathed in black and red lightning, split the Marine Headquarters' main building in half with a single strike! Sengoku, that old geezer's glasses—'"
"Shattered to smithereens!" the entire room of Pirates chorused, followed by a burst of wild laughter.
Someone smashed a sake bottle against the wall, glass shards glinting in the lamplight.
In the corner, a new Pirate, his face covered in tattoos, trembled with excitement.
He clutched the bounty poster he had just received, still stained with the blood of his last opponent. "This is the king I want to follow..." he murmured, copying the passage from Kaido's novel, "The weak do not deserve to live," onto the back of the bounty poster.
The old bartender by the bar silently wiped glass cups, his cloudy single eye reflecting the crazy Pirates.
Thirty years ago, the Pirates in this tavern talked about the golden city of Sky Island and the beautiful legends of Fish-Man Island. Now, everyone's eyes burned with a craving for violence.
"Keep reading!" A Pirate with half an ear missing slapped the table and shouted, "It's time for Lord/Master Kaido to deal with Red Hair!"
The one-eyed Pirate licked his cracked lips, turning to the page: "'Shanks's griffon was struck down and sent flying, impaled on the ruins of the execution platform, trembling uncontrollably. That brat who always had dreams on his lips finally knelt before true power—'"
....
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