When Roger and his crew returned to Water Seven with the Adam Tree, they entered the city quietly through the secret port Tom had told them about and went straight to his workshop.
The massive trunk alone nearly filled the entire space.
Tom arrived at a dead run the moment he received the news.
When he laid eyes on the intact Adam Tree—its surface rough, ancient, and radiating a sense of deep, timeless strength—his mind went completely blank.
Roger burst out laughing.
"Not bad, huh, Tom?"
Tom's eyes widened instantly, a fire igniting within them. He didn't even spare Roger a glance.
He hurried forward, gently running his hand over the bark, marveling at its resilience. Then he pressed his cheek against it.
"Who's the strongest baby here~?"
He rubbed his cheek back and forth.
"And who's got the finest keel in the world~?"
Rub. Rub. Rub.
"Uncle Tom," Reith said at last, unable to bear it any longer, "if you keep rubbing yourself like that, you're going to start bleeding."
Tom's lips twitched violently—then slowly stretched upward into an enormous grin.
His massive body trembled, as though he were barely restraining an overwhelming surge of emotion.
And it was no wonder.
Adam Wood was the ultimate treasure to a shipwright. No craftsman alive could resist it.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, Tom lifted his head and looked at Roger and the others. Gratitude and admiration filled his eyes.
"You… you really did it!" His voice trembled—not with doubt, but with joy. "This is real Adam Wood! With this, I can build that ship… a ship that'll never lose to the sea!"
"Uncle Tom, your reaction's kind of slow," Reith muttered.
Tom ignored him completely, turning back to the Adam Tree with eyes full of tenderness.
Stars practically sparkled in his gaze. A blissful smile froze on his lips—and disturbingly, a glistening line of drool slid from the corner of his mouth.
Roger laughed even harder.
"Looking at you, Tom, you seem happier than we are."
"Ha-ha! Of course I am!" Tom wiped his mouth and turned around, chest puffed out proudly. "This is the greatest moment of my shipbuilding career! Thanks to you, I get to create a legend with my own hands!"
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses and smiled.
"Then we'll look forward to the ship's birth."
Tom nodded vigorously—and then suddenly grabbed Roger, Rayleigh, Gaban, and Reith by their collars.
"One, two, three—out you go!"
Before anyone could react, he shoved them bodily outside.
Their eyes were filled with pure confusion.
Tom slammed the door shut.
"Come back in six months!"
BAM!
Reith stared at Roger.
Roger stared at Rayleigh.
Rayleigh stared at Gaban.
Gaban stared back at Reith.
"…So," Reith asked cautiously, "what do we do now?"
Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban all turned to look at him at the same time.
Reith: "???"
Gaban cleared his throat.
"Kid… don't you think you're a little weak right now?"
Reith suddenly had a very bad feeling.
Roger laughed loudly.
"Well, we've got six months. Reith—special training!"
"You'll be learning Rokushiki, heavy sword combat, advanced Devil Fruit control, and further refinement of all three types of Haki," Rayleigh said calmly, delivering the most merciless sentence possible in the gentlest tone.
Reith collapsed dramatically.
"Brothers… the sky has fallen!"
While Reith was enjoying his "pleasant" training—
What were the Gorosei doing?
Naturally, they were holding a meeting.
Beneath the Empty Throne, the Five Elders sat in silence. Candlelight flickered, the air taut like a drawn bowstring.
"The Adam Tree is gone. CP0 has been completely wiped out. And you didn't even glimpse the enemy?"
The elder with the sword clenched his cane, knuckles whitening.
"The investigation team found only Sea Kings in the area," said the Warrior God of Finance. "So what—are we supposed to announce we were robbed by fish?"
"Classify everything," snapped the blond elder. "Declare it an anomalous shipwreck."
An underwater volcano—that's an accident.
A Heavenly Tribute being plundered—that's humiliation.
"Intensify the search," the Finance God continued coldly. "And silence everyone involved. This matter must never reach the public. The authority of the World Government cannot be sullied."
The Gorosei were furious.
The culprits were impossible to trace—those useless fools hadn't even managed to send a message before dying.
Three months later.
Back to Reith.
He lay sprawled across a rooftop, legs dangling lazily over the edge. In his hands was a crude wooden sword—something Rayleigh had roughly carved for him a few days earlier.
"Tch… this thing's light as a feather. No weight at all."
He swung it casually.
Crack.
The wooden sword snapped clean in two.
"…My strength's increased a bit too fast lately," Reith muttered. "Sometimes I can't control it."
In the courtyard below, Gaban paused while wiping his axes and chuckled.
"That's not how you handle a sword, kid."
"I didn't do it on purpose!" Reith protested.
"This wood's just too fragile!"
Rayleigh stepped out of the house, holding a rolled sea chart.
"There's an island near Water Seven," he said. "They say a highly skilled blacksmith lives there in seclusion."
Reith sat up instantly, scarlet eyes gleaming.
"A blacksmith… So there might be some real swords there?"
Gaban raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Interested in swords now?"
Reith clenched his fists. For the first time in a while, his gaze turned serious.
"I want a real sword. Not a toy. Not a stick. A blade that can split sea waves."
Roger laughed heartily, leapt down from the mast, and slapped Reith hard on the back.
"That's ambition! Then let's go take a look!"
They borrowed a small ship from the shipyard and set sail.
That night, Reith lay on the deck, staring up at the star-filled sky. Waves gently lapped against the hull in a steady rhythm.
"Can't sleep?" Rayleigh asked, sitting beside him.
Reith rolled onto his side.
"Brother Rayleigh… what kind of sword do you think is worthy of the future 'Misty Ghost'?"
Rayleigh chuckled.
"The sword itself doesn't matter. The one who wields it does."
Reith frowned.
"That's way too cliché. Are you lecturing me?"
"But it's true," Rayleigh said, gazing toward the horizon. "The black blades of great swordsmen weren't born that way. They were tempered over time by their wielder's Busoshoku Haki. A good sword enhances your performance, but skill comes from you. In the end, it's just iron."
Reith was quiet for a moment.
Then—
"What if… the sword I find is extremely heavy? So heavy I can't lift it?"
Moonlight reflected off Rayleigh's glasses.
"Then you get stronger until you can. You said you wanted to wield a heavy blade, didn't you? Don't fear it. Train until it obeys you."
The next morning, the ship docked at the island.
They had barely stepped onto the pier when loud voices spilled out from a nearby tavern.
"Did you hear?! The old blacksmith's final masterpiece is finished!"