When the fifteen billion berries were placed into King Neptune's hands, the young monarch fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
"It's the Roger Pirates who have saved the Fish-Men!" he cried out, voice trembling with gratitude.
With that sum and the treasures liquidated from his own treasury, Neptune was finally able to scrape together the amount needed to replace the "Heavenly Tribute" the World Government accused his people of stealing.
In thanks, he asked the Roger Pirates to stay another day on Fish-Man Island. To honour them, he even summoned the kingdom's fortune teller to divine their future, hoping to offer guidance against misfortune.
The Roger Pirates weren't the type to put stock in fortune telling, but refusing Neptune's earnest request would have been rude. With good humor, they agreed.
Half an hour later, the fortune teller arrived.
To the crew's astonishment, she wasn't some wizened old mystic, but a girl of about five.
She wore a violet hooded cloak, her pale face still round with baby fat, black hair falling across half her features. Her violet shark's tail swished faintly as she carried a small white crystal ball, glowing faintly under the lantern light. The image was equal parts adorable and unsettling.
The girl sat before them, staring intently at Roger with eyes far too deep for her age.
"This little girl is your fortune teller?" Roger asked Neptune, wide-eyed with disbelief.
Neptune nodded gravely. "Yes, Captain Roger. Her name is Shyarly. Though still a child, she was born with the gift of prophecy. Every vision she has ever spoken has come true."
"Oh-ho? Well then, little fortune teller, give it a try!" Roger leaned forward with a grin, his trademark laugh booming through the hall. "It's all in good fun! Wahahahahaha!"
But Shyarly's expression quickly shifted. Her small brows furrowed. Her lips trembled. Then she gasped.
"N-no… this isn't right… You… you should fall gravely ill. You should be dead soon!"
The crew froze.
Roger only laughed harder, deliberately teasing her. "Wrong, little one. I'm perfectly fine—healthy as can be!"
Shyarly shook her head, her gaze fixed on the crystal ball.
"No… Someone changed your fate."
Roger's smile faltered. Slowly, he turned to look at Shiro.
Shiro only returned a calm smile, feigning ignorance, though inside his heart was pounding.
"The one who changed your fate… is him!" Shyarly raised a small finger and pointed directly at Shiro.
This time, Shiro chuckled, curiosity piqued. He crouched down in front of her. "Then tell me, little fortune teller… what about my fate?"
Shyarly closed her eyes and pressed both hands atop the glowing crystal. The air in the room grew heavy as she chanted softly.
Half a minute later, her eyes flew open, brimming with shock.
"You… you're already dead…"
"What?!"
Her words hit like cannon fire. The hall fell silent, tension thick as a noose. Then the crew burst into raucous laughter, disbelief echoing against the stone walls.
"She said Shiro's already dead? That's nonsense!"
"Hah! What a load of rubbish—just trying to scare us!"
"C'mon, this is a waste of time. Let's get back to the ship!"
The men jeered, unconvinced.
But Shiro's eyes sharpened. Of everyone here, he alone knew the truth—the original boy whose body he now inhabited had, in fact, died.
He stepped closer, gaze burning. "Then what is my fate, Shyarly?"
The girl's lips trembled. She tried to speak, but suddenly blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her nose, eyes, and ears followed, streaking red against her pale skin. Her small body shook violently before her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the floor.
"What the hell—?!"
Shiro sighed softly, pity flashing in his eyes. He pressed a glowing palm to her, drawing out a mist of pink energy—the backlash she'd taken from forcing her vision. He fed the energy into his sword spirit, leaving her body cleansed.
Shyarly stirred, her face pale with terror. She clutched her crystal and whispered in a trembling voice:
"Your future… it's beyond anything an ordinary person could imagine. I only saw fragments… but the world itself will be turned upside down because of you."
Her words were filled with awe and fear, as though she'd glimpsed something unspeakable.
"That's it?" Shiro muttered, deflating. "I was hoping for some grand prophecy, not something so vague."
Roger only laughed and clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to nearly send him sprawling.
"Wahahaha! Sounds good to me, Shiro! We're gonna turn the world upside down anyway!"
The strange little interlude passed, and soon the Roger Pirates were preparing to set sail again.
Before leaving, Shiro pulled Fisher Tiger aside and left him with a cryptic warning.
"Don't put too much faith in humans. People are complicated. Many will betray even their saviors for profit."
Tiger frowned, baffled, but the words sank deep.
The Oro Jackson raised her sails, cutting through the endless waves once more.
But only days later, Rayleigh's face was lined with worry. Standing before the near-empty stores, he turned to his captain with exasperation.
"Captain, you gave everything to Fish-Man Island! We've barely any supplies left. At this rate, the crew's going to starve!"
Roger only shrugged, draining the last of his sake. The liquid ran down his chin, soaking his shirt, as he laughed and waved it off.
"So what? We'll just do what we used to—hunt down pirates with filthy hands, sell them off to the bounty hunters!"
Rayleigh groaned, massaging his forehead.
"This fool… He really doesn't get how famous we are now. The moment anyone sees the Roger Pirates' flag, they scatter. Catching other pirates? Easier said than done…"
Still, he couldn't help but chuckle at his captain's boundless confidence, even as the crew braced themselves for hungry days ahead.
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