Rolan's gaze didn't waver as Shanks regarded him cautiously. The scarlet-haired Red‑Haired Pirate was alert, clearly sensing from Rolan's expression and words that this young man understood far more than he let on.
Rolan remembered the anime — how Shanks once walked right into Mary Geoise, the heart of power for the World Government, and met with the Five Elders. That place was supposed to be untouchable. Ordinary pirates didn't just stroll in and out unchallenged.
And yet Shanks had. Not only did he enter freely, he had held conversations with the highest authorities in the world. What was more, he had brought the Gum‑Gum Fruit to the East Blue. No one in the East Blue before had ever encountered such a Devil Fruit — until Luffy's fated arrival.
The more Rolan thought about it, the more the pieces cried out to be connected. Shanks wasn't just any pirate; he possessed influence and access no ordinary pirate could ever dream of. The Red‑Haired had even been entrusted with something so critical that it practically reshaped the future — the Straw Hat that once belonged to the Pirate King.
Rolan built a bold hypothesis: maybe Shanks came to the East Blue with a specific purpose — to deliver that Devil Fruit to Ace. But fate had intervened when Ruffy ate it instead. If Ruffy had died that day, perhaps the Gum‑Gum Fruit would have ended up in Ace's hands after all. The fruit itself seemed to choose its recipient, as if guided by some unseen design.
But why would Shanks volunteer such a priceless treasure to a simple boy like Luffy? Why risk life and limb — even losing an arm — right in front of him? These details nagged at Rolan's sharp mind.
And Rolan believed — with certainty — that Shanks knew more than he revealed. That a man who could enter Mary Geoise and come out unscathed, again and again, was hiding something monumental.
"Do you think I'm one of the World Nobles?" Shanks finally said, voice grave with suspicion and tension. He did not expect Rolan to have knowledge of the God's Knights, the elite force tied to the greatest powers in the world.
Rolan's lips curved in a hint of amusement, though his voice remained calm, matter‑of‑fact. "Your access to Mary Geoise isn't normal. Neither is your freedom from consequences. There's darkness under this world you pretend to protect."
Shanks's eyes narrowed slightly. Beneath his composed exterior, curiosity sparked — mixed with wariness. "What exactly do you know? And what do you intend to do with that knowledge?"
Rolan did not flinch. "More than you think. As for what I'll do — someone with your status should already know how much hypocrisy masks itself as peace."
At that, Shanks's expression tightened. A man of his caliber had seen his share of deceit, understood the rotten core beneath the world's shiny façade. And yet this youth before him spoke with an audacity unlike any pirate he'd met before.
"Do you intend to overthrow the world?" Shanks asked, studying Rolan intently. His red gaze was sharp, seeking sincerity beneath the surface.
Rolan lifted a brow, his tone cool. "This world is already collapsing. The question isn't whether to overthrow it — it's whether anything that replaces it will be worth the cost."
Shanks faltered, as if struck by a sudden thought he hadn't expected. The young man was unlike any other pirate he'd crossed paths with — and that was saying something. Even his old captain, Gol D. Roger, was different. But Roger never failed to ignite hope in dark hearts; Rolan was hardly hopeful. Rolan was sharper. Colder. Calculating.
"Ignoring destiny won't make you any less important," Rolan continued. "But blind faith won't change what's rotten."
Shanks's fists tightened. He had come here to persuade this fierce young man to stand down — to abandon whatever chaos he seemed to court. But Rolan's words struck a chord he hadn't anticipated.
Before this meeting, Shanks had come to believe that even Roger's legacy could be surpassed if the world found its true liberator. But after listening to Rolan speak of destiny and choice with such clarity — it shook him.
"Why are you so sure that Sun God Nika is the answer?" Shanks finally asked, cautious yet compelled.
Rolan tilted his head, unbothered. "Because destiny is convenient for the weak who can't face the truth." His voice was calm, but his eyes shivered with intent. "I don't deny that legends have power — stories drive people forward. But no story should bind free will."
At that, a flicker of astonishment crossed Shanks's face — nearly enough to break his serious composure. The belief in destiny was something every pirate carried in their heart — even Roger himself laughed about how timing could change the fate of the world. But Rolan rejected such comfort. He faced reality with icy clarity. That alone made him dangerous — and unpredictable.
Tension cracked the air between them.
Rolan's eyes were like steel as he stared back at the scarlet pirate. "Legends are just words until someone reshapes them into action."
Shanks exhaled slowly, a realization dawning on him. This young man was no ordinary pirate. He was cold. Calculating. Unbound by naive hope or stories of fate. And yet that wasn't weakness — it was clarity.
For the first time in the exchange, Shanks nodded slightly. "You surprise me."
Rolan said nothing in return.
Shanks directed his gaze toward the bustling Peach Garden plaza before him. "Since you came all this way, I'll show you around my home."
Rolan raised an eyebrow but didn't resist. He observed the lively streets, merchants hawking goods in Berries, townsfolk going about their business, and children laughing with unfiltered joy. It looked peaceful. Too peaceful.
Behind Shanks, the members of the Red‑Haired Pirates relaxed just a fraction — Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, and the others exchanging slight glances as if relieved to see the tension ease.
This world, with its contradictions, its illusions of peace, and its hidden rot — that was why he had come. Not for legends, not for destiny, but for truth.
Because in truth, the world wasn't worth saving as it was. It needed to be remade.
He was done caring about anything that stood in his way.