As Shanks shouldered his pack and walked into the unknown, the sinking sun stretched his shadow into a golden bridge toward destiny.
At the prow of the Oro Jackson, Shiro stood alone. The deck was empty now, but in his ears he still heard Roger's booming laugh. For the first time, Shiro found himself unsure where to go.
After some thought, he decided. With the power of the Paw-Paw Fruit, he guided the Oro Jackson across the seas toward Sabaody. This ship—this vessel of dreams and glory—didn't belong in the hands of someone who couldn't even sail. It belonged with Rayleigh.
Half a day later, Shiro reached the archipelago and handed the ship to the Dark King himself.
Inside Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, Rayleigh sat behind the counter, smiling as Shiro took a seat.
"So, what are you planning to do next?"
Shiro had already pondered it during the voyage. Leaning against the rail, watching the restless waves, he had plotted his future again and again. Now his answer came without hesitation:
"I want to travel alone. See the world… and maybe heal some people along the way."
Rayleigh blinked, surprised for once. Then he threw back his head and laughed heartily, clapping Shiro's shoulder with a hand heavy as iron.
"Little Shiro, I never expected you to have such a big heart. As your teacher, that makes me proud! Hahaha!"
The word teacher made Shiro's mouth twitch. He wanted to shout that if it weren't for Rayleigh's half-baked guidance, he might've broken through years ago. But he swallowed it down, saying nothing.
The bar was thick with the scent of rum and chatter as the night deepened. Eventually, Shiro rose and took his leave.
He hadn't chosen this path out of some saintly compassion. No—this was calculation. In a world of pirates and predators, Shiro had his eyes fixed on one goal: the evolution of the Tetanus Fang.
Both his swordsmanship and Haki had hit bottlenecks; progress in the short term seemed impossible. Awakening the Paw-Paw Fruit would take a miracle, the kind of chance rarer than gold dust at the bottom of the sea. So he pinned his hopes on the weapon in his hand.
For more than a year, the Tetanus Fang had drunk in wounds and sickness displaced by his fruit. Its steel had darkened through countless refinements, its color fading into a deep, ominous gray. Shiro could see it—the day it would cross the final threshold and become a Black Blade, a weapon of legend. When that day came, its spirit would awaken fully, fighting alongside him as his partner.
From then on, Shiro wandered from village to village, leaving healing in his wake.
He cured the frail and elderly, eased the fevers of innocent children, and mended the shattered bodies of warriors. In quiet regions where few injuries could be found, he turned his gaze toward the local tyrants. He would strike them down, break their bones… then heal them. Again and again.
To Shiro, it was necessary refinement for his sword. To them, it was torture worse than death. Most chose to end their own lives rather than endure it. Each time, Shiro would sigh, almost disappointed.
"Why bother? Really, why? I wasn't even going to kill you…"
Meanwhile, the seas trembled with greater news.
The Roger Pirates had reached the Final Island. They had uncovered the truth of the Void Century—a secret capable of shaking the world to its core. And then, at the height of their triumph, Roger had disbanded his crew.
The headlines exploded across the globe, carried by Morgans of the World Economy News Paper:
"Shocking! The Roger Pirates Reach the Final Island—The Lost Hundred Years Revealed!"
"Legend Born! Gol D. Roger, crowned King of the Pirates, disbands his crew!"
The world buzzed. From bustling metropolises to remote fishing villages, people spoke only of Roger. His name had reached its zenith, the very symbol of pirate legend.
But in the shadowed chambers of Mary Geoise, the Five Elders convened in grim council.
The atmosphere was heavy. Saturn tapped the headline with his spotted fingers, worry etched into every line of his face.
"The Void Century exposed to the world… the consequences could be catastrophic."
Nusjuro, the Warrior God of Finance, the Golden Planet Venus, toyed idly with his blade, speaking with careless calm.
"I think you overstate things. The Roger Pirates are disbanded, aren't they?"
Marcus Mars slammed his fist against the table, his temper as fiery as always.
"Disbanded or not, their crew must be contained! If we don't restrict their movements, chaos will follow!"
"But they've already scattered," Topman Mercury muttered, stroking his chin. "Hunting them all won't be easy…"
It was then that Shepherd Ju Peter leaned forward, eyes gleaming with an idea.
"Then we make it worth the world's while. Raise their bounties to impossible heights. Let the seas themselves hunt them for us. And warn Steel Bone Kong—he'll be needed for the captures."
The suggestion was met with nods and murmurs of approval. One by one, voices rang out:
"Agreed."
"Seconded."
The world had a new Pirate King. And the World Government would stop at nothing to erase his shadow.
T/N: If you would like to read up to 20 chapters ahead for all my works, check out my P@treon: patreon.com/GhidorahWriter
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