I never liked simple things.
Who does?
Only someone without ambition could truly appreciate something that came too easily, and although many things could be said about me, one of them certainly was not that I lacked aspirations.
I had entertained a few hopes that Ace would recognize me quickly, accept me without resistance, and everything would go smoothly, but in truth I expected a much harder battle.
Divine providence liked to play games with me.
Sometimes she listened to my prayers, more often she did not.
But in this case she decided to favor me.
So I received a full blessing for the war that was about to begin.
The sun stood high in the sky while I wandered patiently along the edge of the forest, climbing the slopes of Mount Korubo, and I wondered myself why I possessed such patience.
I should have cut this entire forest to the ground.
And yet I walked quietly, breathing in the smell of resin, not particularly bothered by the fact that I had been chasing a child for half a day.
The trail had taken me far away from the Grey Terminal.
Even deep within the forest the trees were beginning to thin, and in front of me rose the slope of a massive mountain.
Overgrown with all kinds of bushes, it hardly looked like a tourist path.
After a moment I discovered why.
Two children suddenly came running toward me from the right.
Both of them held long metal pipes in their hands and kept glancing over their shoulders, completely failing to notice my presence.
One wore an orange shirt stained with dust from his feet all the way to his elbows and was breathing heavily, as if he had been running for a long time.
The second child wore a cylinder hat on his head—an extremely unusual one—with blue goggles attached to it. He was also dressed in an oddly elegant manner, because who in their right mind ran through the forest wearing a scarf around his neck and black polished boots?
A bear was chasing them.
And it was probably the largest specimen I had ever seen.
Almost three times larger than a normal animal.
It ran on all fours at an incredible speed for its size, and I had the unpleasant feeling that the two boys would not escape.
"Run!"
The boy with the cylinder shouted at me while speeding past.
Children.
Their fearlessness was astonishing.
I drew Habanero and slashed sideways above their heads.
The two boys stopped immediately, uncertain which threat was greater—the woman with the katana or the furious animal charging toward them.
Personally, I suspected I was more frightening.
The cut brought down several nearby pines.
The bear was nearly sliced in half. The massive ball of fur collapsed with a thunderous crash, blood pouring from the long wound.
The children stared at the dead beast in disbelief. Then they slowly turned toward me.
Habanero returned calmly to its sheath.
"Hey, kids," I said casually, "I'm looking for Portgas D. Ace."
"I don't know him," the boy with the cylinder muttered, though he glanced toward the other child. The black-haired boy with freckles lifted his dark eyes.
Roger's eyes.
He straightened up and said firmly despite the fear visible in his posture:
"I'm Ace."
Oh yes.
There was no mistake.
The same eyes.
The same bold look.
The same attitude that said: nothing scares me, come and try.
His facial features were a mixture of Roger's sharp lines and something softer that he had probably inherited from Rouge.
For a moment I simply stared.
I could not believe that a living reflection of my brother's childhood stood before me.
My eyes widened.
I hesitated before answering, even though it was obvious the boy was impatiently waiting to hear what I wanted from him.
I drank in the sight.
After a few long moments I forced myself to hide the tears beneath the brim of my hat.
Something unfamiliar tightened my throat. That feeling was mixed with longing for my brother, grief for the life I had lost, and above all with an overwhelming sense of injustice.
My nephew had grown up on this disgusting island among mountains of garbage.
He had been chased by wild animals and threatened with death every single day.
And I—
I, Emeral D. Ralagan, his only family—
had spent my time drinking and complaining that life was not unfolding according to my wishes.
How pathetic I felt at that moment.
"I'm… Pebble," I finally managed to say, though the words caught painfully in my throat. "Dadan sent me." I hesitated. "I'm supposed to watch over you."
"Dadan?"
The blond boy in the cylinder, a toothpick between his teeth, glanced at Ace with a puzzled look.
"Yeah, right," Ace snorted. "Dadan would be happy if I died. She probably sent you to cut me down with that huge katana."
Ace was not easy to fool. And what was worse, his words fit my theory about Dadan disturbingly well.
But thinking something was one thing. Hearing such words from a seven-year-old child was another entirely.
My blood began to boil.
"Listen, young blood," I snapped, "when I say I'm going to keep an eye on you, that's exactly what's going to happen."
The boy only shrugged disrespectfully and tried to walk past me.
"So many years at sea," I muttered with a laugh, "and in my old age I end up babysitting the rebellious generation." I watched him closely. "You really are your father's son. A true tiger's cub. But Roger was stronger," I added calmly.
Ace stopped immediately and turned around.
His body rotated a full one hundred and eighty degrees as he stared at me with wide eyes.
The mention of his father filled him with anger.
I did not understand that reaction at all.