Chapter 214: The Great Pirate Era Begins
Garp failed to extract a single piece of valuable intelligence from Roger. Let alone getting any news, he somehow ended up burdened with the heavy responsibility of being a "guardian for an orphan."
Out of all the companions in the Roger Pirates, Roger ultimately chose to entrust the safety of his unborn child and wife to his greatest rival. This left Garp feeling incredibly irritated.
If Roger's reasoning was that they had both seen that shadowy figure together in God Valley back then, there were several other candidates he could have chosen. Even Whitebeard would have been a perfectly viable option.
If his reasoning was based on whoever was closest to the ultimate truth—like seeing the mind-controlled Rocks—then there was also Nereus to entrust them to.
Roger and Nereus's relationship wasn't particularly good, but as a Marine...
Whether he should report this matter directly to Headquarters... or agree to Roger's request and protect his orphaned child...
"What a load of absolute crap..."
Garp kicked the base's prison door, shattering it into pieces, and then stormed out of the Loguetown Marine Base with a face full of deep resentment.
Garp knew perfectly well that this prison couldn't hold Roger. Even handcuffed and unarmed, Roger's sheer physical strength remained monstrous.
This prison was nothing more than a decoration to him. If Roger genuinely wanted to break out, only he and Sengoku combined could possibly stop him.
The surrounding Marines didn't utter a word. They merely, silently, and with extreme proficiency, began repairing the shattered door.
These weren't the Marines originally stationed in Loguetown; they were the new recruits who had arrived with Garp, belonging directly to his unit.
Aside from Bogard—whose true strength remained a mystery but could somehow intervene in battles of any tier—these ordinary soldiers had practically maxed out their repair and renovation skills.
Constantly fixing the collateral damage caused by Garp had become second nature to them.
They assumed Garp had suffered some grievance from Roger and kicked the door down purely out of frustration.
While throwing tantrums and smashing things wasn't exactly becoming of an officer, for Garp, it was completely normal. After all, this was the Vice Admiral who, sometimes just to look cool, would completely ignore a perfectly good door and intentionally smash through a solid wall instead.
According to his own logic, doing so "carried more deterrence."
"Vice Admiral Garp really is something else. Why get so worked up over a dying pirate?"
"No matter what, he's still Vice Admiral Garp's lifelong rival. Perhaps this kind of ending... is something Vice Admiral Garp finds deeply unsatisfying."
Over the years, the soldiers aboard Garp's warship had sailed alongside him in relentless pursuit of Roger. Even though they mostly served as background cheerleaders, it didn't erase the fact that they had actively participated in the chase.
When the news of Roger's capture arrived, Garp wasn't even present. Therefore, in the minds of these Marines, someone else had stolen the achievement Garp had strived for his entire life. It was perfectly normal for him to be pissed off.
After that incident, Garp never visited the prison again. Conversely, Loguetown began welcoming a steady stream of massive figures from all over the world.
Paradise, the New World, the Four Blues...
Anyone who received the news and could make the journey rushed toward Loguetown, all desiring to witness the end of the Pirate King with their own eyes.
Time would not stop just because someone was running late. Even though many couldn't arrive in time due to the vast distances, the day of Roger's execution arrived exactly on schedule.
Unlike the Grand Line, where seasons were strictly bound to islands—divided into Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter Islands, generating sixteen distinct climatic zones—the weather variations in the Four Blues were relatively normal.
Yet today in Loguetown, the temperature seemed to have spiked slightly. The sky was a brilliant azure, the sunlight dazzlingly bright, but a stifling, oppressive heat lingered heavily over the entire town.
Part of it was the weather; the rest was the sheer density of the gathered crowd.
In Loguetown's central plaza, aside from the cordoned-off path leading from the prison to the execution platform, every surrounding inch was crammed with ordinary citizens eager for the spectacle.
Heads bobbed from the windows of flanking buildings and even the rooftops of low-slung houses.
The sweltering heat was already suffocating, and the tightly packed crowd only intensified the agitation. Minor skirmishes erupted constantly; God knew how many brawls had already broken out within the throng.
However, the vast majority of the Marines' attention was entirely focused on the direction from which Roger would emerge. Only a small fraction was dedicated to maintaining the surrounding order.
Most of the time, a sharp shout was enough to make the brawlers stop. Under these circumstances, the Marines were absolutely authorized to open fire.
This extreme congestion only applied to ordinary people. For the vast majority of individuals possessing true strength, empty buffer zones naturally formed around them. No one dared to approach them.
Nereus himself was a prime example. He seemingly did nothing at all, yet an invisible barrier, like a solid brick wall, isolated a spacious, empty zone around him.
"Excuse me, coming through! Excuse me..."
Every vantage point offering a clear view of the execution platform had been claimed long ago. Latecomers had no chance of getting in unless they desperately squeezed their way forward.
The presence of the Marines was the only thing preventing a massive, fatal stampede.
At the very back of the street, a boy with choppy white hair, wearing a green leather jacket, was fiercely pushing his way to the front.
His short stature ironically worked to his advantage, allowing him to squeeze through the gaps between the legs of the towering crowd.
This youth was none other than Smoker, who had not yet enlisted in the Marines.
Over the past few days, the rumors he heard had grown increasingly exaggerated. Some even claimed that after reaching the final island, Roger had obtained the entire world.
Smoker had come here purely to see what kind of man this truly was.
"What exactly... is the special significance of this execution?"
Amphelite's focus differed drastically from everyone else's. She didn't care about titles like the Pirate King; Roger's life or death had nothing to do with her.
She was far more interested in knowing what exactly Nereus was planning. If he intended to execute a prison break, he definitely wouldn't have brought Chloe along.
And as for this so-called "debt collection"...
The man was about to be executed. Nereus hadn't left her or Chloe's side to act alone for even a second. He couldn't possibly plan to abruptly yell "Stop!" right before the execution and demand his money in front of the entire world, right?
"Some things can't be explained in just a few sentences. Just think of it as a small hobby of mine," Nereus replied smoothly. "A new era will begin at this very moment. Besides... there are quite a few interesting individuals gathered here today."
Scanning the surroundings, Nereus spotted several young but distinctly familiar faces.
Dracule Mihawk, with eyes as piercing as a hawk's. Though right now, he was merely a challenger traveling the world to hone his swordsmanship.
Donquixote Doflamingo, still accumulating his strength, having not yet entered the Grand Line.
Crocodile, high-spirited and utterly arrogant, yet to be utterly crushed by Whitebeard.
Gecko Moria, deeply valuing his crewmates, yet to hit an absolute wall named Kaido and degenerate into an obese recluse obsessed with zombies.
Some were already wanted pirates; others were rookies who had yet to set sail. But all of them had congregated here today for one single man: Roger.
As Nereus's gaze swept over them, he even locked eyes with a few. It was clear these individuals had similarly noticed Nereus's presence.
And unlike the ignorant rookies who were gradually forgetting about this monster, these individuals had definitely heard rumors about the terror he represented.
[What an overwhelmingly powerful aura... It's a pity he isn't a swordsman...]
Despite this thought, Mihawk instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword. It wasn't a swordsman's intuition urging him to draw his blade, but the primal instinct of a living creature screaming at him to defend himself.
"Fufufufu, he really managed to draw in some massive figures. If he hadn't reached an agreement with the World Government, his bounty would probably be even higher than the Pirate King's..."
Doflamingo wiggled his fingers, seemingly calculating something in his head. As for Crocodile and Moria, they didn't pay this side any mind at all.
They were currently in their "I am the strongest in the world, utterly invincible" phase.
Even encountering a monster from the previous era wouldn't scare them. In their eyes, the only reason those older figures had higher bounties was simply because they had set sail earlier.
Until they suffered the brutal, unforgiving beatdowns of the New World, this arrogant mindset wouldn't change.
As the hands of the plaza clock slowly ticked forward, the hour of execution arrived. Accompanied by the heavy, rhythmic clanking of dragging chains, the protagonist of this execution finally entered the crowd's line of sight.
Judging by the sound of the friction alone, it wasn't hard to tell that those shackles were immensely heavy—even among the heavy-duty restraints exclusively reserved for death row inmates, they were of the highest, heaviest caliber.
If it were an ordinary person, their ankles would have long been rubbed bloody and raw. But even though Roger's physical condition was currently beyond medical salvation, this weight meant absolutely nothing to him.
Whether it was the leg irons or the wooden pillory, they merely existed to provide the onlookers with a false sense of psychological comfort.
To ensure everyone could clearly witness the event, the execution platform had been constructed incredibly high; one could practically overlook more than half of Loguetown from the top.
Looking down at the densely packed crowd and the long and short lenses of the reporters' cameras, a triumphant smile graced the corner of Roger's mouth. Everything was proceeding exactly as he had envisioned.
Before Roger even ascended the steps, the executioners were already waiting on the platform.
The stifling heat, mixed with their deep internal anxiety, left them unbearably tense. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled continuously down their foreheads.
The man they were about to execute wasn't some ordinary pirate—he was the Pirate King, Roger. No one could guarantee that this process would go off without a hitch.
It wasn't as if they hadn't seen the script for a prison break before. Typically, when a crew came to break someone out, the executioners were the very first ones to be slaughtered.
But the procedure had to be followed. Abiding by protocol, the executioner asked, "Do you have any last words?"
Hearing the question, Roger casually lifted his wrists, bound by the heavy chains.
"Could you take these off? They're really itchy."
The sudden movement startled the executioners, who flinched back, seemingly terrified that Roger would use the chains as a weapon against them.
"Absolutely not!" the executioner refused decisively.
"Jeez, it's not like I'm going to run away. Why so serious?" Roger's tone was entirely nonchalant, as if he never actually expected them to agree anyway.
"Whatever. To think that guy Garp didn't even personally stand guard. How boring."
Seeing that no one was responding, Roger felt incredibly bored, seemingly quite dissatisfied with the arrangement of his own execution.
Roger then sat down cross-legged, urging the two executioners.
"Hurry up. Let's get this over with quickly."
And throughout this entire exchange, the smile on his face remained vividly clear for everyone to see.
The executioners had killed countless pirates. They had seen them weep and beg, curse and spit, or remain entirely silent. They had witnessed every possible state of a human facing death. Yet this was the first time they had ever seen someone smiling.
That faint, peaceful smile sent an uncontrollable chill down their spines. They raised their long execution blades, desperate to end this as quickly as possible.
Right at that moment, a voice from the crowd abruptly shattered the silence.
"Hey, Pirate King! Where did you hide your treasure?! Is it in the Grand Line?! You definitely found it, didn't you?! That legendary Great Treasure... ONE PIECE!"
"The one and only Great Treasure... ONE PIECE..."
"Shut your mouth!" someone tried to shout, but it was already too late.
Hearing Roger respond, the plaza erupted into a deafening uproar.
And Roger finally delivered the declaration that would ignite a brand-new era.
"You want my treasure?! You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one place! Now you just have to find it—at the end of the Grand Line, Laugh Tale!"
"No talking allowed!"
The executioners shouted fiercely, simultaneously thrusting their long blades down, intending to execute him immediately and cut off his words.
But suddenly, an invisible, unknown force bound their entire bodies.
The execution blades they had wielded for half their lives refused to plunge downward, no matter how hard they pushed. They could only watch helplessly as Roger finished his final sentence.
BOOM!
The instant Roger's words fell, a deafening crack of thunder tore through the sky! Oppressive black clouds rapidly converged from all directions.
In an instant, a torrential downpour cascaded from the heavens!
The cold blades finally pierced through Roger's chest. Blood gushed out, pooling and flowing down the execution platform. But the Pirate King's dying declaration had already echoed across the entirety of Loguetown Plaza, branding itself deeply into the soul of every single person present.
Roger's blood washed over the wooden platform, rapidly diluting and flowing outward under the torrential rain. The executioners stood dumbfounded, staring blankly, completely at a loss.
They honestly didn't know if this execution counted as a success or a massive failure.
"Did you use Dance Powder?"
The sudden, violent downpour surprised Amphelite, making her suspect that Nereus had covertly deployed the weather-manipulating powder.
"No. This man was truly the darling of the sea. Perhaps... this is simply the will of heaven."
The blood was rapidly diluted by the rain. Even the blood on the execution platform was washed completely clean.
The World Government's execution method left horrific, gaping wounds in the prisoner's chest, resulting in massive blood loss. Combined with the concealing curtain of heavy rain, no one noticed exactly where all that blood was going.
Even Amphelite, standing right next to Nereus, entirely failed to realize that the dispersing blood seemed to have found a new destination.
A dark red sun hung high overhead. The surroundings were bathed in a deep crimson hue. The blood-red river roared as it always did.
Lying on a patch of grass, Roger reached down to touch the massive wound on his chest, only to find that it had completely healed.
"The world after death... actually seems pretty nice..."
"Yo, Roger. I've been waiting for you for a long time."
"Rocks?! Why are you here? Back then, you were the one begging us to kill you. And the one who actually dealt the final blow was Nereus!
"Every debt has its debtor. If you're here to collect, you shouldn't be coming after me!"
[That was a pretty damn good speech. It almost makes me want to go back out there and see this new era myself.]
That was exactly what Rocks had been about to say. But Roger's utterly bizarre train of thought forcefully choked the words right back down his throat.
A thousand words converged into a single, exasperated sentence.
"You absolute idiot..."
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