"They're here! They're here!"
Someone shouted, and the noisy square instantly fell silent before erupting into an even more violent commotion. The crowd surged forward like a tide, everyone craning their necks and standing on tiptoes, afraid to miss this historic moment. Escorted by two squads of Marine elites, a man slowly approached.
He wasn't wearing a prisoner's uniform. He was still in his iconic red captain's coat. His hands were locked before him in Sea Stone shackles, yet his steps were as steady as if he were taking a stroll in his own backyard.
Gol D. Roger.
There was no fear or despair on his face, not even a hint of gloom. On that weathered face was a calm, almost joyful smile. He looked around at the crowd—some excited, some hateful, some fearful—his gaze as serene as the Calm Belt sea.
"Is that… the legendary Pirate King?"
"He looks… different from what I imagined."
"He's about to die, and he can still smile…"
Whispers rippled through the crowd again, but this time, they were softer, tinged with a strange sense of awe.
In the shadows of the attic, Kyle watched quietly. He watched Roger walk through the crowd, each step a beat on the pulse of the era. When Roger reached the base of the clock tower, his steps suddenly paused. He raised his head slightly, his gaze locking precisely onto the shadow where Kyle was hiding.
Their eyes met. Kyle's pupils constricted almost imperceptibly. Roger's smile widened just a bit, and then he resumed walking, stepping onto the stairs that led to his end.
Kyle lowered his gaze, watching no longer.
On the execution platform, Roger knelt down and urged the two emotionless executioners beside him, "Alright, hurry up and get it over with!" His tone was as casual as if he were telling a bartender to bring his drink faster.
The executioners exchanged a look, tightening their grip on their swords. They stepped forward, raising the gleaming longswords high. At that moment, the entire square was silent enough to hear a pin drop. The dark clouds in the sky pressed heavily over Loguetown, signaling an impending storm.
In the extreme silence, someone in the crowd shouted.
"Hey! Pirate King! Where did you hide all the treasure you found? That legendary great treasure!"
"ONE PIECE!"
Roger smiled faintly. He raised his head, his eyes shining like stars in the last moments of his life.
"You want my treasure?" His voice pierced the oppressive quiet, reaching every ear in the plaza and, through the Den Den Mushi, every corner of the world. "You can have it! I left everything I gathered in one place!"
His voice suddenly rose to a thunderous roar.
"Now you just have to find it!"
After he finished speaking, the entire world seemed to freeze for a second. The executioners, startled by his aura, hesitated for a beat. Only when Fleet Admiral Kong's enraged roar finally echoed across the square—"Fools! Hurry up! Execute him!"—did they snap back to their senses, swinging the longswords with all their might.
Swish—
Two arcs of cold light intersected. Time seemed to stop. Roger's smile was forever fixed in that instant. A single drop of warm blood fell from the high platform, blossoming like a red flower on the wooden boards below.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The entire world was muted.
Then…
"WHOOOOAAAAA—!!!"
"He was telling the truth!"
"ONE PIECE IS REAL!"
"I'm going to be the Pirate King!"
"To the sea! I'm going to the sea!"
The crowd erupted. The sea erupted. Countless people's eyes gleamed with a fervent light. They threw down their tools, bid farewell to their families, and rushed like madmen towards the ports, towards the sea where dreams and wealth awaited. The Great Pirate Era had begun.
In one second, the world was lost in the madness of "ONE PIECE." In the next, it fell silent again. The sky had turned black—an unnatural, ink-stained blackness. The clouds spun into a terrifying abyssal vortex directly above Loguetown. A fierce wind shrieked like a thousand wailing spirits, and the fanaticism in the crowd was replaced by pure terror.
Boom—!
A pale white lightning bolt tore through the sky, illuminating a figure that had appeared on the execution platform. A black trench coat flapped in the wind, and a pair of golden eyes shone brightly. Torrential rain poured down, but the high platform seemed to exist in its own space. The rain mysteriously slid away three feet from Roger's body, not a single drop touching his crimson coat.
Kyle stood there, letting the cold rain wash over his face. He slowly squatted down and gently brushed Roger's still-smiling face.
Under the gaze of the terrified crowd, an even more incredible sight occurred. The blood that had pooled on the wooden platform seemed to come to life. As if time itself were rewinding, it writhed and converged, flowing back into Roger's body along the path it had come.
Kyle's movements were gentle. He draped one of Roger's arms over his shoulder and carefully lifted him onto his back. Roger's head rested peacefully against him, as if he were merely drunk after a banquet, being carried back to the ship by a comrade. An almost inaudible whisper sounded in the wind and rain.
"You didn't even get thin in Impel Down, you bastard."
Carrying his captain's body, Kyle straightened up and turned to leave.
"Stop!" a roar cut through the storm.
"It's the 'Wave Guiding King' Aaron Kyle!"
"The man who destroyed Marineford!"
The Marines raised their guns, their trembling arms betraying their fear. But the pirates, their minds clouded by greed, saw only opportunity.
"Brothers! The clue to Roger's treasure must be on him!"
"Kill him, and ONE PIECE will be ours!"
Instantly, a dozen pirates brandishing swords rushed out from the crowd, lunging toward the execution platform to make their names on the corpses of two legends.
Facing the surging enemies, Kyle didn't even look back. He simply took his first step down from the platform.
The moment his foot touched the stair, an invisible and yet overwhelming pressure swept out from him with a silent roar. It was as if a god had opened his indifferent eyes, or a demon had offered a disdainful smile. Countless particles of black and gold light appeared in the air, intertwined, and spread in all directions, carrying a will that crushed everything in its path.
The ferocious smiles on the faces of the charging pirates froze. The light in their eyes dimmed, and they fell backward, unconscious. But this was only the beginning. The black and gold Haki swept across the entire square like a tsunami.
Thud. Thud, thud…
Crowds of people, both pirates and Marines, fell in rows like harvested wheat. The square, which had held tens of thousands of people, fell completely silent within three seconds.
Kyle's steps never stopped. He walked down the last stair and passed through the field of unconscious bodies as if no one was there. In the entire plaza, only a handful of people remained standing or kneeling. Shanks and Buggy were on their knees, gasping for breath, tears and rain mixing on their faces as they watched the familiar back. Gekko Moriah had slumped to the ground, dazed and muttering, "This is a lie…" Crocodile was half-kneeling, his face as pale as paper. Doflamingo struggled to stand, his legs trembling violently. Only Mihawk still stood, his hand gripping the hilt of his black blade, his sharp eyes fixed on Kyle's back as a drop of cold sweat slid down his forehead.
Kyle did not look at any of them. He simply carried his captain and walked away, step by step, through the wind and the rain.
Behind him, as he departed, the terrifying vortex of dark clouds began to dissipate. The rain gradually stopped. A single ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating a town filled with sleeping bodies.
It was as if the apocalyptic storm had come only to bid farewell to the king of an era.
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