By the evening bonfire, Rhett finally accepted reality.
Roger, having eaten his fill, lay sprawled on the beach when he suddenly sat up. "Rhett, you're quite the interesting fellow. How about joining my crew?"
He threw an arm around Rhett's neck. "You could start your adventure on the seas right now."
Rayleigh chimed in with a dry remark, "Our captain didn't even prepare a ship when he set sail."
Roger suddenly leaned closer to Rhett, his eyes sparkling. "And now there's a little pirate on board, making things even more exciting! That makes three of us in our crew."
Rayleigh shook his head in resignation. "I don't think you're capable of properly taking care of a child."
"Huh?" Roger scratched his head, then laughed. "But Rhett, our adventure will definitely be more fun than anything you could do on your own! Because—"
He jumped to his feet, pointing dramatically at the sky. "This is the Gol D. Roger way of sailing! Kuhahaha!"
Rhett watched the two of them laughing and thought—maybe living in an era without knowing the future could indeed be more fun.
"Alright, Captain," Rhett said, looking at Roger. The man was practically a devil with that charisma. Damn him.
The next day, Rhett regretted his decision.
Right — Rhett had seen enough of the canon to know: when Roger first cast off with Rayleigh, they'd had nothing but a dinghy. Even though Rhett was nearly four years old, it wasn't exactly seaworthy. What's the difference between this and sailing in a barrel? Damn it.
Roger patted the hull proudly. "What do you think? Impressive, right? This is Rayleigh's ship!"
Rhett couldn't help but retort, "Captain, are we really going to set sail like this?"
Desperate, Rhett counted the number of people on board and checked the ship's capacity, arriving at a horrifying conclusion. "So there are three of us, but this ship... can only carry 2.5 people?"
"Kuhahaha!" Roger laughed heartily as he leaped onto the boat, causing it to tilt dangerously by thirty degrees. "Don't worry! Rayleigh did the math. We just need to halve the food, bring only three days' worth of water, and throw out the spare oars..."
"That's suicide!" Rhett screamed, tugging at his hair in frustration.
Rayleigh calmly adjusted his glasses. "According to my calculations, with the current load, we can last... about six hours in calm conditions."
Suddenly, Rhett wasn't so eager to set sail anymore.
In the end, the three of them accepted the plan. Rhett figured that since Roger was the chosen one, it couldn't be that bad.
Roger stood at the bow, shouting excitedly into the wind, "This is amazing! This is the taste of the sea!"
Rayleigh, holding the helm, called out, "Captain, we've drifted off course."
"Where are we?"
"Completely lost," Rayleigh admitted. "I don't have a map of this area."
Rhett weakly lifted his head. "Shouldn't we consider turning back...?"
As for why he was so weak—Rhett had never been on a boat before.
He was seasick.
Before he could finish speaking, a three-meter-high wave crashed into the boat. The small vessel groaned under the strain, and a rope snapped with a sharp crack.
"Oh, the rope broke," Roger said, pointing at the swaying mast.
Rhett instantly transformed into "The Scream"—what do we do, what do we do?
"Oh, the water barrel's been swept away," Rayleigh remarked, watching the barrel roll into the sea.
As the boat began to fall apart, Rhett suddenly had an idea. "Wait! I'm a Devil Fruit user!"
Ignoring his seasickness, he activated his Mist-Mist Fruit ability with full force, compressing the mist beneath the boat.
"Mist Sea—Floating Platform!"
Although it couldn't make the boat fly, the mist lifted the hull, significantly reducing its weight. The boat stabilized, and the waterline rose a few inches.
Roger's eyes lit up. "Wow! That's how you use it!"
Just as the mist was about to dissipate, a medium-sized merchant ship appeared on the horizon. Its sails bore a strange emblem Rhett didn't recognize.
"We're saved!" Rhett waved his arms excitedly.
However, Roger and Rayleigh looked unusually serious.
"What's that?" Rhett asked.
"Slave traders," Roger replied.
The merchant ship had already turned toward them, and several burly men armed with weapons stood on the deck.
"Prepare for battle!" Roger drew his sword, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We could use a new ship!"
Rhett glanced at his four-year-old body, then at the fully armed men across from them. "Uh... I've only been on board for three hours..."
"Welcome to the pirate life!" Roger laughed as he charged forward, leaping into the air just as their small boat was about to collide with the merchant ship.
Rayleigh patted Rhett on the shoulder. "Don't worry, the captain's great at 'borrowing' ships."
As the sounds of fighting and screaming came from above, Rhett sighed. He realized—life with these two lunatics was going to be more intense than surviving on a deserted island.
"Uncle Rayleigh seemed so reliable before," Rhett muttered under his breath. "Now look at this mess. Someone save me."
From the ship, Rayleigh's voice rang out: "Slave traders deserve to face the judgment of justice!"
"Charge, men!" Roger shouted.
Rhett felt his future grow increasingly bleak. But what could he do? He'd agreed to board this pirate ship, after all.
The thick fog spread, and the weaker pirates began coughing up blood and collapsing. While adjusting pH levels might not affect stronger opponents—they could protect themselves with Armament Haki—it was devastatingly effective against the weaker ones. After all, organs were the most vulnerable parts of the human body.
Anyone who frequently altered their body's pH balance knew how corrosive acids and bases could be. Rhett's methods couldn't exactly be called gentle, but when dealing with such scum, the most painful death was fitting.
It didn't take long before Roger and his crew had control of the entire ship. Rhett ventured into the hold and was stunned by the number of people crammed inside—not just humans, but various other races, including merfolk.
It seems the trade of races has been going on for a long time, Rhett thought.
He approached the cages and spoke gently to the enslaved: "We're the Roger Pirates. You're free now. Trust us."
But there was no response. Only hollow, numb stares from every face, regardless of race.
Rhett's blood boiled at their despair. He came from a world where equality was a given, and while he knew the society of the One Piece world was different, he also knew the world shouldn't be this way.
"Stand up!" Rhett roared. "Do you want to be slaves forever? Stand up, damn it!"
His hair, tied with nothing more than a few strands of grass, had come loose during the fight. Now dressed in Rayleigh's oversized clothes, with his long black hair cascading down, Rhett looked like an adorable doll—someone who naturally inspired trust. Children were disarming enough, let alone a good-looking one.
But his face was twisted with fury. Did being captured mean they had to accept slavery? This damned world, these damned Celestial Dragons.
And to make it all more absurd, while Rhett had been cleaning the deck earlier, he'd spotted a Navy captain.
"Government and bandits working hand in hand," Rhett muttered. "How laughable."
He spoke again, his voice cold: "I've been killing pigs on the island for eight months. My heart is ice-cold now, but most importantly—slave traders deserve to die."