The noise in the port gradually faded, and the remaining Black Shark Pirates, along with some navy soldiers, fled in a panic. The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood and gunpowder.
Roger kicked away a pirate who foolishly tried to launch a final attack. He casually flicked the blood from his sword and grinned, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. "Hahaha! That wasn't even fun, Rayleigh!"
Rayleigh sheathed his sword and swept his eyes across the battlefield. His gaze eventually landed on Kyle, unconscious and slumped against a wall.
"You planning to bring someone back again?" he asked calmly.
"Hahaha! This little brat's got guts!" Roger strode over to Kyle and picked him up with one hand, completely unbothered. "That insight… that fearless desperation—just my type!"
Rayleigh looked at Roger's eager expression, raised a hand to his forehead, and let out a long, helpless sigh. He knew his captain too well. Once Roger made a decision, not even ten Sea Kings could change his mind.
Just like the day he'd lured Rayleigh and his boat away with only a few persuasive words.
"Let's go. The Marine reinforcements will be here soon. We shouldn't stick around."
Carrying Kyle over his shoulder, Roger called out to Rayleigh, and the two leapt effortlessly onto a small sailboat docked at the edge of the pier, not much better than the wrecked ship of the Black Shark Pirates.
---
Who knows how long had passed before Kyle was slowly roused by the swaying of the ship. Sunlight streamed blindingly through a porthole, forcing him to squint.
As he moved, a stabbing pain from his ribs made him suck in a sharp breath.
"Hiss... I'm still alive?" Kyle muttered, glancing around. He was lying in a simple hammock. The cabin was small but surprisingly tidy.
"Hey! You're awake, kid!" A hearty voice called from above.
Kyle looked up quickly, only to see a magnified, smiling face: Roger!
He was sitting cross-legged on a wooden barrel next to him, gnawing on a half-eaten chunk of bone-in meat, smiling down with genuine interest.
"You saved me?" Kyle struggled to sit up.
"Kuhahaha! Just a little favor! I'm Gol D. Roger," Roger said, waving it off. He then pointed at Kyle's ribs.
"Rayleigh already patched you up. You took on a whole pirate crew by yourself and almost wiped them out. That ability of yours… It's wild. Can it break things apart?"
Kyle met Roger's gaze, piercing and direct, as if he could see straight through him. His heart trembled. He knew there was no point in hiding the truth from someone like this.
"Kyle. Aaron Kyle. I ate the Logia-type Wave-Wave Fruit," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Roger paused, then grinned as he tossed the bone aside and clapped his hands with a hearty laugh. His eyes lit up with a spark of admiration as he fixed his gaze on the young man.
"Aaron Kyle... You've got spirit. And that Devil Fruit of yours? Not bad at all." His tone turned approving, even impressed. "Strong, brave, and bold enough to stand tall at your age? Now that's something!"
"Little Kyle, I like you! Want to come sail with us? Let's see what the real sea looks like!"
Roger extended his hand toward him—a broad, calloused palm, the kind that had wielded a sword through countless battles.
The invitation came so suddenly, yet so naturally.
Kyle's heart began to race uncontrollably. He looked at the undisguised admiration in Roger's eyes, at the ambition to embrace the entire world within his grasp, and a surge of blood rose from deep inside his chest.
He forced himself to sit up in the hammock. The pain under his ribs was still sharp, but his eyes were unshakably firm.
"I..." Kyle took a deep breath. His voice trembled with excitement, but rang clear: "I long for freedom! I long to see a wider world! I long for the strength to chase my dreams! If... if I can go with you—"
He didn't finish, but the longing in his heart—for adventure, for knowledge, and the soul-deep resonance with Roger's very aura of freedom—was written all over him.
Roger's grin grew even brighter, his eyes glowing with excitement.
Rayleigh, who had been quietly wiping his sword at the cabin door, finally looked up. His gaze paused on Kyle, then shifted to Roger, and he gave a barely noticeable nod.
"Kuhahahahaha!" Roger suddenly burst into a thunderous laugh, filled with joy and pride. He grasped Kyle's outstretched hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
"Good! Well said!" Roger's voice was bold and booming. "From today onward, Kyle is the third partner of our Roger Pirates!"
"The third...?" Kyle blinked in surprise.
"That's right!" Roger thumped his chest proudly and pointed at Rayleigh. "I'm Captain Gol D. Roger! The four-eyed guy over there is our Vice-Captain, Silvers Rayleigh! Including you, there are exactly three of us now!"
Kyle looked at the future Pirate King, who was now beaming like a child showing off a new toy, and his heart stirred with complicated emotions.
So this... is Gol D. Roger?
There was none of the deep mystery the legends described. No carefully crafted majesty. Just raw, genuine charisma, wild heroism, and a strangely disarming warmth.
He was like a glowing sun, effortlessly igniting the passion of everyone around him. People couldn't help but want to follow him, to explore the seas with him, to witness grand miracles together.
Even in this short encounter, Kyle could already feel the overwhelming charm of Roger's leadership.
"Welcome aboard, Kyle." Rayleigh came over too and gave him a rare smile. Though still calm and composed, he no longer carried the wary edge from before.
"Please take care of me, Captain Roger, Mr. Rayleigh!" Kyle responded solemnly, his voice nearly bursting with excitement and anticipation.
A legend was about to be born—one that would set sail from this little pirate ship and echo through the ages.