Chapter 56 – The Moment That Changed Everything
The usual laughter and warmth inside the small tavern of Foosha Village suddenly vanished—like someone had snuffed out the very air.
As Higuma basked in the glow of his imagined victory, a soft buzzing broke the silence. Hidden beneath the folds of Shanks' cloak, a Den Den Mushi vibrated faintly, its tone ominously sharp and urgent—far from the usual chime of casual contact.
Shanks' eyes narrowed.
Without a word, he stood from his seat and headed toward the door, searching for a quiet spot to take the call.
But Higuma—the self-proclaimed "Mountain Bandit King"—wasn't about to let him walk away.
"Oi! You lousy pirate! Who said you could leave?!"
"You think you can just walk off without my say-so?!"
Drawing his long blade with a metallic hiss, Higuma lunged forward and pointed it at Shanks' back.
But Shanks stopped in his tracks.
He slowly turned around—his calm expression now gone, replaced with piercing, cold eyes that could cut through steel.
"To draw a sword," Shanks said quietly, "is to wager your life."
"So tell me... Are you ready to die for it?"
The moment those words left his lips, Conqueror's Haki exploded outward.
Invisible yet overwhelming, the pressure dropped like a hammer across the tavern. Higuma and his goons crumpled to the ground, eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth—swept away by a wave of sheer will.
"Lucky Roux," Shanks said calmly, "toss these fools out. And make sure Miss Makino doesn't get troubled again."
"You got it, Captain!" the round, cheerful crewmate replied, still chewing on his massive pork leg.
With that settled, Shanks exited the bar and disappeared into the woods behind it.
As the Den Den Mushi connected, Shanks gave a single greeting: "Hello."
But a voice cut him off immediately—low, firm, and commanding.
"Saint Figarland Shanks... what are you planning?"
"Leave Windmill Village. Now. Vice Admiral Seiryu and the Hero of the Navy, Monkey D. Garp, are on their way to your location."
"Garp won't listen to reason. My men are stalling them, but I can't hold them off for long. Run."
The transmission cut instantly. No time to respond. No chance to argue.
"…Garp and Seiryu. Both of them?"
Did I poke the Navy's beehive harder than I thought? Tch... This is going to be a pain.
Shanks sighed and raked his hand through his hair, frustration written all over his face.
Then, without wasting another moment, he returned to the tavern.
Inside, he gathered his crew quickly.
They had to leave—immediately.
Shanks wasn't reckless. He knew better than anyone what it meant to face Monkey D. Garp, the same man who hunted the Pirate King himself across the ends of the Grand Line.
Shanks, for all his strength, was still far from his peak.
Taking a punch from Garp wasn't a challenge. It was suicide.
And as if that weren't enough... Vice Admiral Seiryu was coming too.
A mysterious newcomer who'd risen to power in just two years—rumored to have surpassed countless veterans.
Even Dracule Mihawk, the world's strongest swordsman, stood as Shanks' equal. And yet... Seiryu had defeated him.
A man like that couldn't be taken lightly.
Over twenty seasoned swordsmen had fallen to Seiryu afterward.
He wasn't just strong.
He stood at the very summit of swordsmanship.
To face both Garp and Seiryu at once...?
Even a Yonko would think twice.
Before Shanks could consider his next move, his vice-captain, Benn Beckman, approached with a rare hint of panic on his usually calm face.
He held a small, now-empty wooden box.
"Shanks… the fruit. Luffy ate it."
Shanks' eyes went wide.
He stared at the box.
Empty.
Completely empty.
His heart skipped a beat.
His gaze darted toward the bar counter.
There—standing proud with his chest puffed out and fists raised high—was Luffy, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"I'm gonna become the Pirate King someday!"
Shanks froze.
Time seemed to slow.
For a moment... Luffy's silhouette blurred. And in its place—
—appeared the phantom of another man.
The Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
Shanks blinked.
His mind reeled.
That fruit... was supposed to be locked away. He'd only opened the box earlier out of boredom.
He wasn't careless—never with something as important as a Devil Fruit.
And no one should've been able to take it.
So how...?
How did Luffy manage to grab it without anyone noticing?
Was this... destiny?
Right then, Shanks made a decision that would change the course of everything.
"Beckman. Get Luffy to the ship. Now."
"We're leaving Windmill Village immediately!"
"Garp and Vice Admiral Seiryu are almost here!"
This wasn't ideal.
Shanks had never intended to drag a kid into the dangerous world of pirates.
But... maybe fate had other plans.
There was no time to wait.
No time to plant dreams and let them grow, like in the original story.
This time, reality was cruel.
The Navy was coming. Now.
And they weren't playing around.
Even if the Red-Haired Pirates had reached Yonko status, the combined might of Garp and Seiryu was still... overwhelming.
It was their only option.
Their last card.
— — —
Benn Beckman hesitated—but only for a second.
Then he approached Luffy, calm and collected.
"Luffy," he said. "Didn't you always say you wanted to sail the seas and become a pirate?"
"Well... the captain's agreed."
"We're taking you with us."
With a single arm, he hoisted the boy off the ground and carried him outside.
Meanwhile, Shanks walked up to Makino, who stood by the counter, clearly shaken.
"Makino," he said gently, "don't worry."
"You always said Luffy had no one to look after him."
"Well, from today... he'll be with us."
"I can't promise him luxury, but I'll raise him to be a real man. That's a promise. From me—to you."
But Makino's expression only darkened.
She looked anxious, unsure of what to say.
Then, finally, she blurted out the truth.
"Shanks... I know you're not a bad person. But the problem is…"
"Luffy's grandfather is... Vice Admiral Garp!"
"..."
Shanks: "!!???"
— — —
Elsewhere, just a few hours' sail away from Windmill Village—assuming you had a warship going at full speed—the seas of East Blue seemed deceptively peaceful.
Two World Government ships drifted lazily in the path of the Blue Dragon, blocking the main route.
Their reason? "Mechanical damage."
A flimsy excuse.
Their real goal?
Delay.
— — —
Back aboard the Blue Dragon, Vice Admiral Garp's face was twitching.
He stared at the two ships refusing to move.
His fists were already tightening.
Rolling up his sleeves, he cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath.
"That's it. I'm blowing those ships up."
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