"Never thought we'd run into them this fast..."
The Oro Jackson seemed fated to spend her life encircled. In Ozz's memory, the last time was the Edd War, one lonely ship ringed by a whole fleet of enemies.
He also remembered Roger swearing, during God Valley, that he would settle a debt from a year before. Was this the ambush that planted that grudge?
Ozz didn't panic. He strolled to the rail and let the sullen gale slap his coat, eyes lifting to the armada on the horizon.
Ship after pirate ship flew the Rocks sigil. On every deck, cutthroats bared steel and teeth, shouting long before they were in cannon range.
"Die, Roger!"
"Daring to refuse Captain Rocks' offer. You're too arrogant!"
"With this many division captains, the Roger Pirates are done for!"
At the center of the formation, a giant of a man stood at the prow, crescent mustache bright against his face, bisento in hand, captain's cap shadowing his brow.
Thoom.
Every step he took shook the timbers and the hearts of the rank and file around him. Haki rolled off him in waves. A blonde with short bobbed hair lounged on his shoulder as if it were a couch.
"It's Captain Newgate!"
Second only to Rocks in sheer destructive power, Whitebeard drew a hush from the gathered pirates. None dared mouth off.
Whitebeard ignored them. He stared across the water at the Oro Jackson, the corner of his mouth lifting into a bold grin.
"Kurala-la-la. Bet Roger didn't think Rocks would predict his route and post us here ahead of time."
"Newgate. Every time we fight Roger, you're never far away."
On the neighboring ship, a man in a gold cloak chomped a cigar and answered through a smile.
"Jiehahaha. Roger's head is mine."
A living-looking ship creaked beyond them, and on it a towering, gaudy woman laughed.
"Ma ma ma ma. Wrong. It'll be mine." She flicked a glance at the hulking youth beside her. "And you. Keep your guard up, Kaido."
"I know. But we're not letting Roger walk away..."
Aside from a handful who were absent, it was an all-star lineup.
Three future Emperors. One sea-born overlord.
And a small ocean of hardened officers and hands who'd cut their teeth in real wars.
"So cool..."
On one of the Rocks ships, a burly mid-level head stared, eyes shining at the sight of the captains and elites. He slid twin blades from their sheaths and could barely keep from bouncing on his heels.
A crewmate clapped his shoulder with a crooked grin. "Hey, Gick. Do you have to get this hyped every time the captains move? Those monsters are a different breed. We aren't competing with them."
Gick's eyes flashed at the cold water, but he didn't bite back. He only made a promise to himself.
"The sea is wide enough to hold any dream.
One day I'll be king too."
That is how the world of pirates works. If your dream is big and your resolve is bigger, the sea will throw you a chance.
Only... Gick's time hadn't come yet.
...
"Some lineup."
Ozz picked out the familiar silhouettes at a glance. A few details were off from memory, but the cast was the same where it counted.
Bakkin and a teenage Kaido could be ignored.
Whitebeard, Golden Lion, Big Mom were problems even the Roger Pirates had to take seriously, never mind the flood of elite followers behind them.
Those three alone meant the real pressure would land on Roger's shoulders, with Rayleigh and Jaba bracing the sides.
"Think you can handle it?"
On a normal day, Roger and Whitebeard would go blow for blow. Old rivals.
Rayleigh could hold Golden Lion. The title of Dark King's right hand was earned the hard way.
Jaba was tailor-made to crash against Linlin's brute force.
The rest of the crew were no slouches. They could hold lines, protect the ship, and create space.
Even if they started behind on points, they could still break away. The problem was today...
Ozz had nearly gone all out when he took on the entire crew earlier. He'd pulled his killing intent and heavy hands, but judging by the heroic bandages, swollen bumps, and spectacular bruises, their combat readiness had taken a hit.
Monsters heal fast, but not from a full-tilt brawl in the same afternoon. Rayleigh especially was still feeling that lullaby kick.
"In your current state, you'd get wiped."
He spread his hands, helpless at the sight of his friends grinning like maniacs at a stacked battlefield.
Then again, that was the Roger Pirates he knew.
"What are you talking about? We're the Roger Pirates."
"The Rocks Pirates aren't new to us."
"If they think we're easy pickings because we're beat up, they're in for a world of hurt."
Ozz snapped his fingers. A bone-in hunk of meat popped into his hand. He tore in, cheeks pumping as he refueled.
He looked over their blazing eyes and couldn't help baring his teeth in a matching grin.
"Quit fronting, you idiots."
He thumped a knuckle lightly against a wrapped gash on Roger's side, drawing a hiss and a glare, then slid Ace free at his waist.
"If I'm the reason you're dinged up, then fighting Rocks is my job too."
He didn't say the last part out loud. He only thought it, and his grip on the sword softened for a heartbeat.
We share a ship. We share the fight.
"Move."
Keeping with the old Oro Jackson playbook, he snapped again. A pair of black shooting gloves formed around his hands.
While Roger and the others surged to meet the oncoming tide, Ozz raised a long black rifle beside Ace and began to choose the first head to pop. Through the scope he skimmed the ranks.
He found something that didn't fit.
"Hold on... That is..."
"Old man?"
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The tides are shifting, and secrets linger in the dark... Step into the shadows early on P@treon, where the next chapter awaits before the world sees it.
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