"These people don't look simple at all… and that guy in the lead seems a bit familiar!" Lucky Roux bit off a huge chunk of chicken as he spoke, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The moment Rosinante and his crew appeared, the members of the Red-Haired Pirates became highly alert.
Just by looking at their aura, it was clear—these weren't the sort of nobodies one could just brush aside.
"This is definitely a big shot… never thought he'd show up here. But it looks like he has no intention of making a move," Benn Beckman said, his voice calm but laced with caution.
"Man, today's just one unlucky thing after another," Yasopp muttered. "We set foot on this island and immediately ran into the Flathead Pirates. Then, out of nowhere, we get dragged into a fight with that battle lunatic. And now, we bump into a big name like this… Captain's luck really sucks today!"
"Grey Kingdom, huh? Yeah… that really is a big name. Let's hope we don't end up crossing them!" Lucky Roux said as he gnawed on his chicken, as though just now recognizing who Rosinante's group was.
"Everyone stay sharp and be ready to retreat at any moment," Benn Beckman instructed in a low voice. "These people are the ones stirring up the seas lately, and that man leading them? He's their captain. A man who can fight Fleet Admiral Sengoku to a standstill. Any one of them could match our strength. If things go bad, we withdraw—fast."
"Even if we want to retreat, it's not going to be that easy," Yasopp replied grimly. "That lunatic's already gone blood-crazy in this fight. He won't stop until one of them's dead." He glanced toward the animal-type Devil Fruit user locked in a fierce battle with Shanks.
"Yo, members of the Red-Haired Pirates, greetings!"
Just as Yasopp and the others were whispering among themselves, a voice suddenly rang out beside them.
When?
Without a sound!
No one had noticed him arrive.
Just like the rumors said—he could move without a trace, so silent that even Observation Haki couldn't sense him.
The Red-Haired Pirates were stunned by Rosinante's sudden appearance.
After all, many among them were skilled in Observation Haki.
Shanks, once an apprentice on the Pirate King's ship, had long known how dangerous the New World was, so he had trained his crew early in the use of Haki.
Benn Beckman and Yasopp in particular had honed very powerful Observation Haki.
And yet, neither of them had the faintest clue when Rosinante had appeared right next to them.
No sound, no sign—not even their Haki picked up a thing.
If this man had attacked them just now, half the crew would likely be dead before they could even react.
Even Benn Beckman, usually cool-headed and unflappable, felt cold sweat slide down his back at that thought.
Rosinante's silent movement might not be much against true monsters like Garp or Kaido.
But to Benn Beckman and the others—whose strength hadn't yet fully matured—it was absolute, suffocating suppression.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Ryan and the rest also noticed that Rosinante had vanished from before them.
When they looked again, he was already standing on the Red-Haired Pirates' side.
The group exchanged glances, then Ryan, Raijin Kisu, Shaxia, and Robin walked over to join him.
"What an honor. Never thought the famous 'Dragon King' Rosinante would even know of a small pirate crew like us," Benn Beckman said.
"Dragon King? When did I ever get called that?" Rosinante asked, puzzled.
"You didn't know? Because your Grey Country flag has a dragon on it, people started calling you Dragon King—or sometimes Grey Dragon King," Benn Beckman expRyand.
Ever since the great battle at Marineford, the World Government had canceled Rosinante's bounty.
After all, Grey Kingdom now ruled over twenty-four sky islands, and though it was technically a pirate crew, it functioned more like a nation.
It seemed the World Government had its own agenda—and rather than provoke Rosinante, they had taken the initiative to cancel his bounty.
Of course, only Rosinante's bounty was revoked. Jack and the others still had theirs—and in fact, their bounties were raised slightly, likely to restrict their activities across the seas.
With no bounty left and the title of "Nation Builder" no longer quite fitting, people gradually began to call Rosinante the Dragon King.
Their pirate flag bore a dragon, and he was their king—so Dragon King felt natural.
"Dragon King, huh? That sounds kind of impressive." Robin smiled as she walked up to Rosinante's side.
"These people love handing out nicknames…" Rosinante shook his head with a laugh. "Well, Dragon King sounds a lot cooler than Nation Builder anyway. Not that it matters much."
"What I really want to know right now," Rosinante said, his eyes flashing with interest, "is who this person fighting Shanks to a draw is. I find him very, very intriguing."
Anyone capable of pushing Red-Haired Shanks to this level naturally piqued Rosinante's curiosity.
In fact, from the moment he saw the two fighters, he'd been fascinated by Shanks' opponent.
Shanks was destined to stand at the top of the New World one day.
Though he was still a bit green, he already displayed incredible potential and strength.
He could freely control his Conqueror's Haki, was a high-level swordsman, and had physical skills on par with a Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral.
Even in the New World, that level of power already marked him as a great pirate.
Ordinary Conqueror's Haki might not do much against strong opponents.
But when one could completely focus its pressure on a single opponent during battle, it became a terrifying weapon—able to create crushing psychological pressure.
Once someone's spirit was suppressed, their attacks became hesitant, and they could only unleash maybe seventy or eighty percent of their full strength.
If one could go a step further and merge Conqueror's Haki into their sword strikes, the power and ferocity of their techniques would skyrocket.
Shanks couldn't do that yet—but he could already channel his entire aura onto one opponent.
If that opponent didn't have a strong enough will, they'd be completely crushed.
But Shanks' current opponent seemed completely unaffected—if anything, his fighting spirit only burned brighter.
Rosinante could feel it. From deep within this man surged an astonishing, limitless will to fight.
It was precisely this overwhelming battle spirit that drove him to fight harder and harder, closing the gap despite being weaker than Shanks—until he had forced a draw.