The latter half of the Grand Line—the New World.
Across a calm stretch of sea, a large pirate ship was sailing slowly.
The topmost cabin of the ship was exquisitely furnished, exuding an aristocratic atmosphere. It hardly looked like a place where pirates would live.
At this moment—
Inside that cabin, a man sat at a table with his legs crossed. A Den Den Mushi lay before him.
That man was Donquixote Doflamingo.
"So… the South Blue No. 2 branch has been completely destroyed, and Lao G also fell there?" Doflamingo spoke slowly, his tone betraying neither joy nor anger.
"Yes."
A steady voice came from the other end of the Den Den Mushi.
"Alright. I understand."
Doflamingo hung up the call, lowered his head slightly, and rested his hand lightly against his forehead. The atmosphere in the cabin fell silent.
Oppressively silent.
However—
Just as the pressure reached its peak, Doflamingo suddenly laughed.
"Fufufu… fufufufu…"
His eerie laughter shattered the oppressive stillness. It sent chills down the spine, revealing nothing but darkness and malice. No one could tell what Doflamingo was thinking at that moment.
"Lao G was simply inferior—there's nothing more to say about that. As for a mere South Blue branch, consider it a gift to you. The world is gradually losing its balance. The Marine, the World Government… next, how do you plan to make your move?"
---
On the boundless sea, a warship sailed steadily forward.
Roya stepped out of his cabin and onto the deck, only to find that nearly everyone from the Elite Camp had gathered there, apparently preparing to hold a banquet.
When someone noticed Roya, a trace of awe immediately flashed through their eyes—not only because of his strength, but also because of the extremely ferocious fighting style he had displayed in his battle against Lao G.
By now, everyone clearly understood that this seemingly non-menacing young man named Roya possessed an overwhelmingly fierce and domineering nature beneath the surface—completely different from his harmless appearance.
People fear the strong; they fear ferocious strongmen even more.
Of course, there were also those who felt little fear and even dared to tease Roya—Hina, for example.
"Oh? Isn't this the Roya who burns islands the moment he disagrees with someone? Finally done resting?" Hina leaned against the railing at the side of the deck and spoke in a slightly flippant tone.
"What, if I weren't done resting, were you planning to give me a shoulder massage or pound my legs?" Roya shrugged at her with a grin.
Hina shot him an annoyed glare.
"Massage your head! During the last live combat mission, I was on the street next to yours. I almost got burned by your flames. Hina is very angry right now."
Roya smiled and looked at her. "Then I really must apologize. The way you're looking at me—are you asking for compensation?"
"Hmph! No need."
After a light snort, Hina ignored Roya and started chatting with Ain beside her.
Roya casually walked over to a corner and sat down. They had not yet entered the Calm Belt, and a sea breeze brushed past him, bringing a comfortable, cool sensation.
At this moment, the members of the Elite Camp somehow produced alcohol. Just as they were about to start drinking, a stern voice suddenly rang out.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Roya looked up to see Zephyr emerge from the cabin, his face expressionless.
With Zephyr present, the Elite Camp members immediately lost their enthusiasm. They exchanged uneasy glances, some even showing traces of nervousness.
In the past, it was customary to hold a small celebration after a live combat mission, but usually without alcohol. This time, for some reason, the warship had alcohol in addition to its freshwater supplies.
Silence fell over the deck.
So quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
Then, in that silence, Zephyr suddenly smiled faintly and spoke again, breaking the stillness.
"Just this once. Don't let it happen again."
Zephyr was in a good mood today. Although drinking violated regulations, those rules existed to keep the Marine combat-ready at all times. With him personally aboard this warship, there was no real danger.
And if something truly happened that even a former Marine Admiral like him couldn't handle, then whether the Elite Camp trainees were sober or not would make no difference.
With Zephyr's permission, the Elite Camp members froze for a moment—then erupted into cheers.
The banquet resumed.
Roya did not join the drinking. He remained alone at a corner of the deck, leaning against the railing and enjoying the sea breeze.
Suddenly, the wind carried the smell of smoke.
Smoker appeared at Roya's side at some point, a pair of cigars clenched in his mouth. He leaned against the railing as well, looked at Roya, and asked in a deep voice:
"What do you think of the Marine… and of justice?"
Smoker had his own beliefs for joining the Marine. Many of the Elite Camp recruits each had their own interpretation of justice, but Smoker did not pay much attention to them.
Among the entire Elite Camp, the person Smoker valued most was undoubtedly Roya. The talent Roya had displayed already far surpassed his own. Once Roya mastered Haki, Smoker would be no match for him at all.
That was why Smoker most wanted to know Roya's thoughts.
Roya glanced at Smoker and replied casually, "Where my heart points—that is justice."
Hearing this, Smoker fell silent for a moment, then gave Roya a long, penetrating look.
The answer did not surprise him. Judging from the aura and style Roya displayed in battle, he was clearly not someone who would submit to others or to rules.
What Smoker hadn't expected was just how absolute Roya's nature was. "Where my heart points—that is justice." Those words meant placing himself entirely at the center, disregarding all the world's rules.
One's own will becomes the rule.
Ordinary people could never hold such a belief. In this world, there were quite a few who did—but most of them were pirates. Within the Marine, such people were almost nonexistent.
Now, Roya was already shrouded in mystery. Neither Smoker nor Zephyr could see what his future would become.
---
The warship sailed from the South Blue into the Calm Belt, then returned from the Calm Belt to the Grand Line.
During this journey, they encountered no pirates. However, after crossing the Calm Belt back into the Grand Line and heading toward Marine Headquarters, they ran into a pirate crew.
This group was not affiliated with the Donquixote Family—just an unlucky crew encountered by chance. After painstakingly reaching the end of the first half of the Grand Line, they happened to run into Zephyr and the Marine Headquarters Elite Camp trainees.
Not all pirates who reached the end of the first half of the Grand Line were supernovas with bounties over a hundred million. This crew certainly wasn't. The Elite Camp trainees rushed in together and easily subdued them.
After that, there were no further issues.
The warship safely returned to Marine Headquarters. The subsequent handover procedures had nothing to do with Roya and the others, and once they arrived, the group disbanded.
It was already afternoon by the time they returned. Roya went home, chatted briefly with Garp about what had happened during the mission, and then took some time to rest.
"Tomorrow, I'll officially begin training in Haki."
Roya clenched his fist, then returned to his bed and lay down to sleep.
---
The next day.
Roya arrived at the second floor of the Marine Headquarters fortress—the Elite Camp training grounds—where Zephyr was already waiting for him.
The training in Haki had begun.