The three of them slowly made their way toward the shore. Turkey and Water Duck glanced at the ground littered with bounty hunters—dead without a drop of blood spilled, and shook their heads in sympathy.
Of all the people they could've messed with, they had to provoke the boss. Everyone knew their boss hated evil with a passion.
When they reached the coastline, Rosinante looked over the forty or so ships anchored nearby—bounty hunters' vessels, every one of them. He raised a hand and said calmly,
"Turkey. Water Duck."
"Yes, Boss?"
"There's bound to be valuables on these ships. Don't let them go to waste. Haul everything out, take it to the nearest town, and sell it. Make us some spending money. After all, even Marines shouldn't have to be broke ones."
As soon as Rosinante spoke, Turkey dropped his briefcase and eagerly leapt aboard the nearest ship, rummaging through it with a hunter's focus. Water Duck, however, hesitated for a moment before speaking up.
"Boss… I'd like to set up a gravestone for these scumbags."
"Hm?"
Rosinante turned toward him, slightly puzzled. Water Duck continued, his tone was earnest:
"No matter how wicked a man was in life… once his soul departs this world, he deserves a sliver of forgiveness. Don't you think so, Boss?"
Rosinante smiled faintly. "I can't say I agree with that sentiment… but I won't interfere with how my friends choose to act. Do as you wish."
"Yes, Boss!"
Overjoyed, Water Duck ran off, found a flat slab of stone, and planted it into the soil. Using Shigan (Finger Pistol), he carved five solemn words into it:
"Grave of the Repentant."
Rosinante wasn't in particularly high spirits. He returned alone to the ship's cabin, his mind was heavy. On this journey, he'd seen the truth of the seas—real pirates, the so-called White City, agents of CP9, and bounty hunters alike. Every one of them had left a foul taste in his mouth.
Pirates slaughtered without restraint, cutting down innocent civilians for profit. The World Government did nothing—worse, it sacrificed its own people for gain, abandoning entire nations to their fate. CP9 blurred the line between right and wrong, aiding tyranny without hesitation. Bounty hunters, who called themselves heroes of the sea, often did deeds even filthier than pirates.
This world was rotting—so deeply diseased that without change, it would drown in tragedy after tragedy.
It had to be reformed.
The entire decayed system had to be torn down and rebuilt.
The rule of the Celestial Dragons had lasted eight hundred years, it was long overdue to be thrown into the trash heap of history.
But reform wasn't just words and slogans. To change the world, he needed power—a force of his own. Even at nine years old, he couldn't afford to slack off. He had to grow stronger. Stronger than anyone on these seas, only then could he fulfill his dream.
Rosinante's eyes hardened with conviction. Without wasting another second, he grabbed his sword and ran out to the deck. By now, Water Duck had joined Turkey in looting; forty ships were more than enough to keep the two of them busy for quite some time.
"Ha! Ha!"
Out on the rocky island, Rosinante drew his sword and began drilling his fundamental sword forms, facing the endless ocean. This daily practice was his way of building an unshakable foundation—one that would one day let him surpass everyone else.
"Ha!"
Four hours later, most of his stamina was spent. In the past, even two hours of intense sword training would've completely drained him, but ever since he'd equipped the Madman Armor, his stamina recovery had doubled. Four hours of nonstop practice, and he still hadn't run dry.
Still, Rosinante knew better than to exhaust himself completely. Out here, far from the Marine Academy, it was dangerous to be left powerless. He always kept enough energy in reserve in case of an emergency.
Carefully, he wiped his sword Blood Slash clean with a piece of cotton cloth, then sheathed it. Just as he finished, Turkey and Water Duck came running over, each carrying a massive wooden chest on their backs.
"Boss! We've struck gold! We're rich!"
Even before they reached him, the two were shouting in excitement, like a pair of kids who'd just discovered treasure for the first time.
"Oh? Sounds like the haul was pretty good."
"'Pretty good'? Boss, that doesn't even begin to cover it! You wouldn't believe how loaded these bastards were!"
They dropped the chests onto the ground with a heavy thud. Water Duck's face was flushed red, and Turkey could barely contain himself.
"Boss, we just went through a handful of their ships and found one hundred million Berries in cash alone! And that's not counting the gold and jewels—those should fetch another one or two hundred million easy. It's like we just took down two big-name pirates!"
Turkey was practically howling with excitement. Water Duck, too, looked stunned—he'd never seen this much money in his life. Rosinante couldn't help but laugh at their joy.
"Well done. Looks like we've hit the jackpot this time! Hahahaha!"
Turkey wasn't finished. "And that's not all, Boss! These ships were loaded with booze—some of it world-famous stuff!"
At that, Rosinante's eyes lit up. Waste not, want not—he decided they should take the liquor as well.
But Turkey frowned. "We can't, Boss! Our ship's too small to carry that much!"
Rosinante sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine, fine… then just take the expensive ones. Whatever we can carry."
Water Duck nodded quickly. "Boss, I'll show you which ones. My family used to deal in liquor."
Rosinante turned to Turkey. "Turkey, get the money and treasures loaded onto our ship. Once Water Duck and I are back, we set sail."
"Yes, Boss!"
Turkey saluted smartly and hurried off. Then, Water Duck led Rosinante toward the next ship.
"Boss, I remember exactly where the best bottles were stored. Follow me."
They boarded one of the ships, and Water Duck said excitedly, "In this captain's quarters, I found two bottles of eighty-year-old Gold Label Rum. Each one's worth a million Berries! Total treasure!"
He pushed open the cabin door. Inside were rows of oak barrels stacked neatly—dozens of them, all filled with rum. For pirates and bounty hunters, rum wasn't a luxury; it was a necessity, more valuable than fresh water itself.
In this age, the "fresh water" stored aboard ships was rarely pure—teeming with microbes, it spoiled quickly. On long voyages, when weeks or even months could pass without sighting an island, rum became the perfect substitute: easy to store, long-lasting, and of course, drinkable.
Rum also had disinfectant properties. Not every pirate ship had a doctor, and when someone was wounded, rum could be poured directly on cuts to prevent infection. It was both medicine and drink.
A liquid that replaced water, healed wounds, and tasted sweet—naturally, it became an essential supply for every pirate vessel on the Grand Line.
"Boss, let's hit the next one too. I saw five bottles of thirty-year-old Binks' Brew on another ship!"
(End of Chapter)
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