"My lord, I am Tess Omic, a native of Loguetown. Do you... know me?"
The young man with messy grass-green hair looked at Ross warily, his grip tightening on the ship's railing.
Ross studied him in silence. The name meant nothing to him, yet the man somehow knew that his son was Bartolomeo. That alone made Ross pause.
Bartolomeo? He's barely two years old now. No one outside Loguetown should even know this man exists, let alone that he has a son.
Tess Omic swallowed hard under Ross's gaze. Something in the man's quiet composure felt wrong, like a predator that didn't need to roar to prove what it was.
Whoever this stranger was, he clearly wasn't ordinary.
Ross smiled slightly, reading the fear behind Tess's cautious posture. "Relax. I've only heard a bit about you. I'm not here to kill you."
He folded his arms, his tone calm but certain. "If I really wanted you dead, you'd already be in the sea. I don't need tricks or pretense. Just keep your head down and don't do anything stupid, and you'll be fine."
Ross's casual confidence wasn't a bluff. Tess could feel it in his voice the kind of quiet assurance that belonged to men who had already seen blood and survived worse.
"By the way," Ross added, tilting his head. "That hairstyle of yours... not bad, but your name's a mouthful. From now on, I'll call you Roosterhead."
Tess blinked, startled, then quickly bowed his head. "Understood, sir. Then from now on, I'll be Roosterhead."
He was quick to adapt. Smart. The kind of man who knew how to survive under stronger ones. His life was in Ross's hands now, and he had no illusions about that. If the young stranger could casually mention his son's name, there was no point in testing him.
And besides, a nickname was nothing. Every captain gave his crew nicknames. If playing along meant better food, safer days, and a chance to rise higher, Tess no, Roosterhead wasn't about to complain.
Ross nodded in approval, amused.
He had always liked Bartolomeo in the original story: that fiery loyalty, that reckless devotion to Luffy. Now fate had somehow handed him Bartolomeo's father as a crewmate. The irony was almost comical.
Still, the father was nothing like the son. Roosterhead lacked that passionate heart, that fearless worship of heroes. But Ross didn't mind. He only needed a sailor who could steer the ship and keep his mouth shut.
He had no intention of keeping the man forever. Once he found a quiet island suitable for retirement, he'd let him go.
As for building a grand crew and becoming a "Great Pirate"? Ross chuckled to himself. That dream belonged to fools.
He turned toward the deck, ignoring the furious shouting from the shore where Captain Dirk was still cursing his name.
"Roosterhead," Ross said calmly, "where's Dirk's treasure hidden?"
Without waiting for an answer, he gestured to the helm. "Set sail."
The ship began to drift away from the harbor, its sails catching the wind as the sound of Dirk's rage faded behind them.
Ross didn't notice that one of Dirk's crew had quietly taken a photograph of him before they left.
Back on shore, Dirk glared at his trembling men. "What are you doing just standing there? Go after them!"
The man with the camera, however, slipped the photo into his pocket, a small smirk playing across his lips.
"Apologies, Captain Dirk," he said coldly. "But I didn't expect you to be this weak. Beaten by some no-name kid... after all this time I spent undercover."
He pulled out a navy officer's cap and placed it on his head.
"My name is Shuzo, Major of the Marine Branch. Dirk, I suggest you surrender peacefully."
Then, without hesitation, he fired three signal shots into the sky.
Dirk's eyes widened. "A Marine? You've been with me for months!"
The sea answered before Shuzo could.
On the horizon, a Marine battleship appeared, sails full, cannons ready. The flag of justice fluttered in the wind.
Dirk's confidence wavered. He knew he couldn't take on a warship. Not even at his peak had he dared to face the Marines head-on, and now without his ship, without half his men he was finished.
He tried to flee in a small skiff, but the battleship was faster. Within minutes, the Marines had surrounded him.
Dirk lunged at Shuzo in desperation, hoping to take him hostage, but Shuzo's training showed. The major countered swiftly, disarmed him, and bound him in rope.
Dirk spat curses, but Shuzo ignored him and climbed aboard the approaching Marine vessel.
"Well done, Major Shuzo," said a stern man waiting on deck. He was middle-aged, his uniform decorated with a brigadier's insignia. His name was Brigadier Steger.
Shuzo saluted crisply. "Thank you, sir. However, there was a complication. While setting the trap, someone else interfered. A young man seized Dirk's ship before I could arrest him."
Steger frowned. "A pirate?"
"I'm not sure," Shuzo admitted. He pulled out the photo and handed it over. "This is the man. Looks to be in his twenties."
Steger studied it for a moment, then shrugged and tossed it aside. "Never seen him before. Probably a bounty hunter. If he isn't on our wanted list, he's not worth the trouble."
Shuzo hesitated, uneasy, but nodded.
Before he could speak further, the lookout's panicked voice rang from above. "Enemy ship! Enemy ship approaching fast!"
Both officers rushed to the deck's edge.
A massive pirate vessel was cutting through the waves toward them, almost as large as their own. Its black sails bore a flaming insignia the mark of the Fire Pirates.
"Fire Pirates," Steger hissed. "That madman Buck! He's the only one insane enough to attack a Marine battleship in broad daylight!"
The cannons roared.
Explosions thundered across the water, plumes of spray rising high. Some shells splashed harmlessly nearby, but two struck true, blasting holes in the Marine hull.
"Return fire!" Steger shouted, but before the order could spread, a blur of gold leapt from the enemy ship onto the deck.
The man who landed moved like lightning. Blond hair, calm eyes, and a faint smile that didn't reach his face.
"Damn Marines," he said softly. "Since you dared execute Captain Roger, don't blame me for returning the favor."
Steger drew his sword. "Buck, former member of the Roger Pirates! You're under arrest!"
Their blades clashed with a deafening clang.
Buck caught the brigadier's sword in one bare hand and crushed the steel as if it were tin. Then his fist connected with Steger's chest, sending the officer flying backward.
Shuzo rushed in from behind, but Buck moved like a ghost. He sidestepped and kicked the major squarely in the ribs, sending him sprawling across the deck.
Then came the slaughter.
Buck moved through the Marines like a storm, every motion clean and brutal. Within minutes, only Steger and Shuzo were left alive among the wreckage of their men.
"You two can die next," Buck muttered, striding toward them.
But something on the deck caught his eye a torn photograph lying near his feet. He paused, stooped, and picked it up.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Well now... why do you have my brother's picture?"
Steger's expression changed instantly. "Your brother? The man in that photo he's one of the Pirate King's crew?"
Buck chuckled. "You could say that. Roger's godson, actually. That makes him family, doesn't it?"
The Marine brigadier's blood ran cold. If this young man was truly Roger's godson, and a friend of Buck's... then the world had just gained another dangerous name to fear.
Buck tucked the photo into his coat and turned toward the sea, his smile fading into something darker.
"Ross," he whispered. "So you're still alive, huh?"
The wind howled across the ruined deck. The flames from Buck's ship reflected off the water like blood.
Far away, unaware of the chaos behind him, Ross steered his stolen ship into the open sea, thinking only of finding peace.
But fate, as always, had other plans.