For nearly two months afterward, the World Government's various schemes against the Roger Pirates yielded no results.
Ever since the crew disbanded, no trace of them had been found—not even a single clue. How could anyone expect to capture them?
Ortoren's mission regarding the scholars had stalled at headquarters as well. The Intelligence Department received some vague leads from Gion, but after verification, none of it held any real value.
With things at a standstill, Ortoren finally decided to set sail for the South Blue to conduct an on-site investigation and search for any trace of the scholars.
Of course, as always, he had no intention of producing meaningful results in Ohara's case. This journey to the South Blue was nothing more than using the scholars as a pretext, with his real goal being to eventually claim the credit for capturing Roger.
Traveling to the South Blue was fairly straightforward. Ortoren's warship first departed from Marine Headquarters, then reached the Holy Land of Mary Geoise, where it was pulled up the Red Line by a massive winch before being lowered into the waters of the South Blue.
As the warship slowly descended into the sea, Gion raised her eyes to the Red Line behind them and suddenly asked, "By the way, you've passed by Mary Geoise several times, but you've never gone up there, have you?"
"No. Garp-san told me it's a rotten place, and that I should avoid going there unless absolutely necessary—better to stay clear than risk unnecessary trouble." Ortoren sat at the edge of the deck, set down a small bucket, and immediately cast his fishing rod into the water.
Gion thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "That does sound like something Garp-chan would say. But it's true—Mary Geoise really is a terrible place."
"That's why, aside from the Fleet Admiral occasionally going there to give reports, I don't think any of our higher-ups are eager to set foot in that place," Ortoren said with a faint smile.
"Yeah, but that's just self-deception. We Marines wave the banner of justice, yet the more contact we have with Mary Geoise, the more we run into things that go against everything we stand for. And no matter our position or rank, we're powerless to change it. In the end, we can only turn a blind eye and call it 'for the greater good.'" Gion's voice carried a bitter edge.
The older generation of Marine veterans, Garp included, had never complained about this in front of Ortoren. They only warned him to keep his distance from Mary Geoise whenever possible.
It was likely only the newer generation of Marines like Gion—still holding firm to their sense of justice, but unaccustomed to these recurring shadows—that dared to openly criticize Mary Geoise and the so-called justice it represented.
"You're talking about the Celestial Dragons and their outrageous behavior, aren't you?" Ortoren shook his head, then smiled. "But I believe that one day, sooner or later, we'll put an end to it."
"Of course you can say that—you've never felt the helplessness that comes with it. I used to think the same way, that one day we'd fix everything. But now... heh." Gion gave a small laugh, leaving the rest unsaid.
Ortoren stayed quiet, focused on his fishing rod. The warship glided steadily through the sea, leaving that stretch of water behind as it sailed deeper into the South Blue.
...
At the same time, on the port of Baterilla Island in the South Blue, after more than two months, a lone figure stepped off a small merchant vessel.
He looked utterly ordinary: a scruffy beard covering his face, weathered features marked by dust and fatigue, a half-empty bottle of wine dangling from his hand, and a drunken grin plastered across his face.
"Aren't you leaving with us, Rod? I've grown quite fond of you. Are you sure you don't want to stay on as my sailor?" The merchant ship's captain called out with some reluctance.
The man called Rod waved a hand carelessly. "I told you already, this is my hometown. I'm going back to settle down and get married. But if a few years from now you're still passing through Baterilla Island, maybe I'll hop aboard again."
"That really is a pity. But promise me this—if I pass through again in two years, you'll join me as a sailor. Only, you'll have to kick that drinking habit of yours. Start now, or else who'd want to marry a drunk like you?" the captain said with a laugh.
"Wahahaha! Quit drinking? Impossible. I'll never quit in this lifetime!" Rod let out a drunken laugh, then staggered off the dock.
Watching his back, the captain could only shake his head. Rod was a good man. Over the past two months, he had shown excellent seamanship and steered the merchant ship safely through several heavy storms. The only problem was that he was a bit of a mess—he hadn't bathed in over two months, kept himself drunk nearly every day, reeked of alcohol, and his thick beard had grown so wild that no one could even see his face properly. Because of this, the other sailors tended to keep their distance from him.
Before long, the merchant ship took on a few more passengers and set sail once again, leaving Baterilla Island behind.
The man called Rod, however, shed his drunken façade the moment he stepped into town.
Though his unkempt hair and thick beard still obscured his face, there was no mistaking him. He was none other than Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King the World Government had been chasing fruitlessly for over two months.
"You haven't changed a bit, Baterilla..." Roger stood in the shadow of an alleyway, gazing at the small, modest town. It wasn't bustling, in fact it was rather poor, but he muttered the words softly to himself.
From where he stood, he had a clear view of the main street leading from the port. Roger remained motionless, as if waiting—expecting someone.
By midday, after a couple of hours, a figure finally appeared. She had a strikingly beautiful face, long wavy hair tinged with pale pink and gold, and a slender figure. A gentle smile graced her lips as she greeted townsfolk warmly, clearly well-known and beloved by those around her.
She carried a small basket of groceries, looking very much like a young woman on her way to buy fresh vegetables and fruit at the port market. No matter how one looked at her, she seemed like nothing more than a lovely, ordinary town girl. Her name was Portgas D. Rouge.
As she passed the alley, Roger's body trembled. He took two excited steps forward, but hesitation flickered in his eyes—a trace of fear. Fear of disturbing the woman before him.
It was astonishing to see such an expression on the face of the Pirate King.
Roger knew where Rouge lived, but he hadn't dared to go there. He feared what he might find—that she was already married, raising children, living a quiet, peaceful life. If that were true, he didn't know how he would feel. Perhaps he would give her his blessing... but he also knew himself too well. He was a petty man, and jealousy would surely consume him.
So he didn't go. He simply waited here, hoping for this chance encounter.
Rouge seemed unaware of the figure lurking in the shadows. She walked past, but just as she was about to leave his sight, she suddenly stopped as if sensing something. Slowly, she turned her head toward the alley.
Neither the Marines' intelligence division nor the World Government's CP agents had managed to recognize Roger's shabby disguise after all this time.
But in that dim alley, despite the poor light, the obstructed view, and the distance between them—when their eyes finally met, everything became clear.
Rouge's basket slipped from her hand and tumbled to the ground. Her face filled with a complicated mix of surprise, joy, and worry.
In that instant, it was as if the dark alley was bathed in the warm sunlight of noon. Rouge no longer cared about appearances. She lifted her skirt and dashed into the alley with unrestrained abandon, forgetting all ladylike composure.
Even though the man before her looked filthy and reeked of alcohol, longing overpowered everything else.
In the shadows, the two figures came together and embraced tightly, holding each other with burning emotion.
"You're back!" Rouge choked out, her voice trembling with excitement.
Roger gently patted her back and whispered, "Sorry to keep you waiting..."
...
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