"Eh? What are you all looking at?" Jerry scratched his head in confusion, noticing his friends staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Isn't it scary enough that sharks might show up?"
Seeing that even the youngest crew members, Bonney and Carrot, were at a loss for words, Deuce shook his head with exasperation. "Yes, yes, sharks are terrifying, but they're not nearly as beat up as you are right now. Come here quickly so I can finish patching you up."
"Alright, alright, don't worry so much—I'm not going to die," Jerry said with a casual wave of his hand, signaling everyone to relax. He turned his attention to the others, his expression growing more serious. "How is everyone? Is Carrot okay?"
The young rabbit mink's injuries had already been treated, and she was now leaning comfortably against Kotatsu's warm fur. She flashed Jerry a bright smile despite the bandages wrapped around her arm. "I'm fine, Brother Jerry! It takes more than that to keep me down!"
Jerry nodded, relieved, and made his way over to where Deuce sat next to an open medical kit filled with bandages, antiseptics, and various healing supplies.
Jerry was acutely aware of how he must look. His body was covered in bruises and swelling from Aokiji's relentless attacks, with several sharp cuts from the Admiral's ice blades marking his skin. His clothes were in tatters, barely holding together after the intense battle. But he considered these minor inconveniences—his face was unmarked, and at worst, he'd just need some rest to fully recover.
The real value of his confrontation with Aokiji wasn't in victory or defeat, but in understanding. Jerry had gained a clearer picture of where he stood among the world's strongest fighters. The battle had pushed his Observation Haki to new heights, forcing him to maintain maximum alertness for an extended period while managing multiple threats simultaneously.
Reflecting on the fight, Jerry realized that Aokiji's deceptively sleepy demeanor masked a brilliant tactical mind. The Admiral's attacks had been swift and unpredictable, mixing real strikes with feints in a way that kept Jerry constantly guessing. It was like fighting someone with multiple personalities, each one more dangerous than the last.
But now Jerry felt different—as if he'd gained an extra sense, a fourth eye that could see through such deceptions. He was confident that if he faced similar tactics in the future, he'd be able to respond with much greater calm and efficiency.
"Marco," Jerry said, settling onto the bench as Deuce began unwrapping fresh bandages, "how'd you manage to show up at exactly the right moment?"
"Pops sent me over a few days ago," Marco replied with his characteristic laid-back grin, leaning against the ship's railing. "I just flew over when he called."
"Well, you are a bird after all..." Jerry paused, noticing Marco's eyes narrowing slightly at the comment. "So why did he suddenly decide to send you our way?"
Marco scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "I didn't ask for details, but you know how Pops is—he's got a sixth sense about these things."
"Haha, such a dutiful son," Jerry said with a smirk.
Though Marco hadn't said it outright, Jerry could piece together Whitebeard's reasoning. When they'd first entered South Blue, the old man had contacted Ace and learned about their destination. Given Ace's true identity and the crew's growing notoriety, Whitebeard had probably anticipated that they'd face serious opposition—especially from Sengoku, who likely harbored strong suspicions about the Pirate King's son.
"Besides," Marco added with a warm smile, "it gave me a chance to catch up with Ace. It's been too long since we've had a proper conversation."
Ace, who had been quietly gazing out at the endless ocean, turned toward them with a mix of contentment and melancholy in his expression. "Jerry... Marco and I will be heading back to the New World."
Jerry noticed that Deuce and the others nearby didn't seem surprised by this announcement, suggesting Ace had already discussed his plans with them privately.
"Really?" Jerry nodded, keeping his tone light despite understanding the significance of this moment. "Well, you should get back to keep the old man company, or he'll blame us for kidnapping his favorite son."
"It's not like that," Ace said with his characteristic grin. "My original plan was just to visit that island and see where I came from. Now that I've done what I needed to do, it's time to return home."
He had briefly considered continuing the journey with the Black Star Pirates, but with Marco already here, it made sense to travel back together. There was something poetic about it—the Phoenix guiding Fire Fist home.
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Jerry raised his left hand dramatically, despite being flat on his back. "Let's throw a proper farewell party!"
"That's right—a party!" Ace's eyes lit up with excitement, his earlier melancholy evaporating instantly. "Let's make it one to remember!"
Everyone stared at the two injured pirates, each wrapped in more bandages than a mummy, and collective sweatdrops formed on their heads.
In fairness, Ace's injuries were relatively minor—he was mostly bandaged because Deuce and Marco had insisted on being thorough with their medical treatment.
Despite their friends' concerns, the party went ahead as planned. As Jerry had pointed out, it was their bodies that were injured, not their spirits. What could possibly stop pirates from celebrating?
Under a canopy of brilliant stars, the deck of the Black Star Pirates came alive with laughter, music, and the warm glow of lanterns. Brook's violin melodies drifted across the water while Carina regaled everyone with exaggerated stories of their recent adventures. Even little Bonney had transformed into her adult form to help with the festivities, carrying platters of food that would have been too heavy for her child body.
"Ace," Jerry said, delivering a firm slap to his friend's back while they shared a quiet moment, "when you get back, remember what I told you before. Keep an eye on that guy Teach."
"Mmph!" The food in Ace's mouth nearly shot out from the impact. He quickly covered his mouth with both hands and nodded vigorously to show he'd heard the warning.
"And Marco!" Jerry called out, gesturing grandly toward the Phoenix, "you absolutely have to try this! This is meat from that massive Sea King goldfish I caught earlier. It's a collector's edition—don't eat too much, we need to make it last!"
Jerry's voice carried across the deck as he gestured dramatically, making sure everyone knew about his rare fishing success.
"Really now?" Marco looked genuinely surprised, his eyebrows raising. "Are you sure you didn't just jump into the ocean and wrestle it with your bare hands?"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Jerry waggled his index finger indignantly. "You can doubt my abilities, but you can't question my character and integrity! I caught this fair and square with my fishing rod, and everyone here can testify to it!"
Seeing Deuce and the others nod their reluctant confirmation, Marco set down his half-eaten piece of fruit—pineapple, naturally—and accepted the offered meat with exaggerated ceremony. "Alright, my apologies. I'll gladly taste this legendary catch of yours."
Jerry beamed with pride as he handed over the grilled Sea King meat, then turned to cheer enthusiastically as Brook began his musical performance. The skeleton's haunting but beautiful melodies filled the night air, adding a perfect soundtrack to their celebration.
The party continued well into the night, with stories flowing as freely as the drinks. Carrot entertained everyone with her impressions of their various adventures, while Skull shared increasingly unlikely tales from his collector network. Even the usually reserved Kotatsu seemed to enjoy the festivities, his enhanced intelligence allowing him to follow the conversations with obvious amusement.
As the night wound down, Jerry found himself watching Ace laugh with his old Whitebeard Pirates family member, and he felt a complex mix of emotions. They'd been through so much together—from their first meeting on that deserted island to their recent confrontation with an Admiral. But this was how it had to be. Ace had found his place with Whitebeard, just as Jerry was finding his own path with his chosen family.
The next morning arrived with gentle breezes and warm sunshine painting the ocean in shades of gold and blue.
"Alright, everyone," Ace called out from the ship's railing, flames beginning to dance around his feet as he prepared to board his personal ship. "Time for us to head out."
Marco stood ready beside him, his casual demeanor unchanged but his readiness to transform evident in the way he held himself.
After waving goodbye to the entire crew, Ace ignited his Flame-Flame Fruit powers, creating jets of fire beneath his feet as he stepped onto his Striker. Marco joined him, and together they began moving away from the Black Star Pirates, gradually disappearing toward the horizon.
Jerry watched the familiar figures grow smaller and smaller, feeling the weight of another goodbye. But this wasn't an ending—it was just another chapter in their ongoing story.
"Don't stare too hard," Jerry said, patting Deuce on the shoulder as his navigator continued watching the empty horizon. "We'll see each other again once we've finished sailing around the world."
Since early morning, Deuce had been caught up in pre-departure anxiety, double and triple-checking whether Ace had forgotten anything important—life cards, log poses, emergency supplies. But as always, his worries had been unnecessary. Ace traveled light by nature, carrying only what he absolutely needed.
"Yeah," Deuce replied softly, his voice thick with emotion. He turned to look at his friends—his family—gathered around him on the deck, and a warm smile gradually spread across his face.
He raised his fist high toward the sky, his voice growing stronger with each word. "Let's go! Our adventure continues!"
The Black Star Pirates cheered in response, their voices carrying across the waves as they prepared to chase their own dreams toward whatever lay ahead.
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