Facts have proven that a pirate's ability to recover is directly proportional to their appetite for destruction, while their reasons for celebration are inversely proportional to their moral standards.
One moment it's a life-and-death battlefield; the next, it's a party filled with arm-in-arm drinking buddies.
On the beach, a massive bonfire crackled. Skewered above the flames was some unknown beast Roger had casually split in half. Its fat dripped into the fire with a loud sizzle, releasing a mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat that filled the night air.
Kyle leaned against a rock that had clearly been shattered by a shockwave, holding a wooden bowl like it were his last line of dignity, feeling very much like debris swept up in the tide of this era.
Every bone in his body felt like it was participating in a bitter debate, while every muscle registered a formal protest against the torture he'd endured.
"I'm just saying… couldn't we at least wait until the ship's repaired? Or until I'm, you know, functional again?" Kyle grumbled feebly. "Is this habit of throwing banquets anywhere and anytime really healthy?"
"Kuhahaha! Brats are always whining!" Roger bellowed, holding a massive beast leg in one hand while throwing the other arm around Gaban, both of them visibly tipsy. "Pirates should eat meat and drink wine with big gulps! Ain't that right, Gaban?!"
"Right!" Gaban had fully embraced the party spirit. He raised his cup and clinked it with Roger's. "Cheers to meeting through battle!"
Rayleigh sat on the far side of the fire, quietly wiping his sword, unmoved by the heartwarming reunion of 'long-lost brothers recognizing each other through fists.'
Kyle rolled his eyes and silently tore off a piece of meat, popping it into his mouth. Ahh… so fragrant. Thank you, nature, for your generous gift.
He looked across at the three men in front of him—Gold, Silver, and Bronze. Roger, Rayleigh, and Gaban… the core of a future legend, already assembled.
Hiss… so what about me? Kyle felt a strange churn in his chest. Was it anxiety? Excitement? Or… an intense urge to prove he belonged among these monsters?
Fine. Then I'll become the "Iron" of the Roger Pirates!
"Speaking of which, Roger…" Gaban downed another swig of wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why'd you set sail in the first place? You said something about… hic... overthrowing the world?"
The bonfire's flickering light played across Roger's face. For once, the usual silly grin seemed to fade into something deeper.
"A dream," Roger said, chewing lazily on a hunk of meat. "I want to see what lies at the end of the sea. To achieve something no one else ever has."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a stone tossed into a still lake, sending ripples through Kyle and Gaban's hearts.
There was no mention of being Pirate King. No longing for wealth, fame, or power. Just a simple, boundless curiosity and pride.
Gaban was stunned, staring into the flicker in Roger's eyes that seemed far too real to doubt, as if he were witnessing the final evolution of his own dream.
He wanted to see the world. But the man before him wanted to reach the end of the world.
"Hahahaha!" Roger suddenly burst into laughter, snapping the atmosphere back to normal. He swung his greasy arm over and nudged Kyle with a grin. "Oi, little Kyle! What about you? What's your dream?"
All at once, three pairs of eyes locked onto Kyle.
Rayleigh's gaze was thoughtful. Gaban's filled with curiosity. And Roger… looked like he was just waiting to be entertained.
What's my dream? Kyle's brain kicked into overdrive.
The world's strongest swordsman? Ugh, too much hassle. I'd get challenged every day.
Ruler of the world? What is that, even? Not interested.
Money, women, fame? Yeah! ...Just kidding!
In a world overrun with monsters, tyrants, and legends, shouting some half-baked slogan felt hollow—especially in front of these future legends.
Then, a memory flickered to life.
Red-Haired Shanks—destined to become one of the Four Emperors. He could silence entire battlefields with a single sentence: "Please do me a favor." Or end a war simply by saying, "I've come to put a stop to this war."
Now that—that was real power.
Because being a pirate wasn't just about fighting and killing. True power was walking into chaos and bending it with nothing but your name.
A bold and bizarre idea slowly began to take shape in Kyle's mind. He set down the wooden bowl in his hand, cleared his throat, puffed out his chest like Roger, and put on a mysterious, unfathomable smile.
"My dream…" He deliberately dragged out the words, instantly capturing everyone's attention.
"is to become... the King of Influence!"
"...Huh?"
Roger, Gaban, and even the usually composed Rayleigh all froze.
"Influence... King?" Gaban repeated the unfamiliar term, frowning in confusion.
"Kuhahaha! What kind of dream is that?" Roger was the first to react, roaring with laughter. "You wanna be king? Or do you just want to meet everyone in the world?"
Kyle calmly raised a finger, wearing the kind of smug expression that screamed, "You'll understand when you're older."
"Tell me—what's the strongest force in this sea?" he asked.
"It's Haki!" Gaban answered without hesitation.
"A powerful Devil Fruit?" Roger chimed in.
"An unbreakable will." Rayleigh gave his own answer.
Kyle shook his head slowly, his 'you're still too young' expression intensifying.
"Wrong. All wrong. The strongest power on this sea isn't Haki, or Devil Fruits, or even will." He turned his back to the fire, casting a long shadow. "It's connections. It's relationships. It's what I call… Face."
He stood up and began pacing dramatically in front of the bonfire, voice full of passion.
"Imagine this—when we run into enemy pirates, I pick up a Den Den Mushi, and the Marine Fleet Admiral answers: 'Brother Kyle! Say no more! I'll send ten warships right now!'"
"When we're broke? One call, and the richest man in the world replies: 'Brother Kyle! Spend what you like—I'll send it right away!"
"When we meet a fearsome enemy? I step forward, pat him on the shoulder, look him in the eye, and say— 'Please do me a favor.' And he has no choice but to respect my word and back down!"
Kyle's voice rose with each example, eyes gleaming with delusions of grandeur. He gestured wildly now—one arm holding the Fleet Admiral in a headlock, the other around the Revolutionary Army's leader, all while stepping on a Celestial Dragon's head and waving to the world.
"I won't need to fight. I won't need to draw my sword. One word. One look. And the whole world shifts around me!" He thrust out a hand as if seizing the horizon. "That's my dream! I want my name to be the most powerful currency in the sea! I want to become… The King of Influence!"
He struck a heroic pose, hands on his hips, waiting for awe and applause. Instead, a long silence fell over the camp.
Only the crackling of the fire remained.
Roger stared, jaw slack, a half-eaten hunk of meat frozen mid-air. Gaban looked as if he'd just seen a flying sea king do a cartwheel. Rayleigh adjusted his glasses with the quiet suffering of a man used to witnessing far too much nonsense.
"Pfft—"
"KUHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Roger finally exploded with laughter, nearly falling over. Tears streamed down his face as he wheezed, "That's—that's hilarious! King of Influence?! Kyle, what the hell is even going on inside your head?!"
Gaban also couldn't hold it in. The more he thought about it, the more outrageously genius it sounded.
"It's completely ridiculous…" Rayleigh sighed, shaking his head with a helpless chuckle. "And yet... if you really pulled it off... You would be invincible."
Kyle looked at their reactions. Though they laughed, there wasn't a shred of mockery—just pure, genuine amusement and recognition.
Something warm stirred in his chest.
"Hey! I respect your dream!" Roger finally said, hoisting a massive barrel of booze with a grin that could outshine the sun. "Then it's settled! I want to reach the end of the world! Kyle wants to be the King of Influence and make the entire world give him face! Gaban wants to see every corner of the map! And Rayleigh…"
He turned to look at Rayleigh.
Rayleigh just smiled and raised his cup. "As for me, I just want to see what kind of beautiful chaos the rest of you unleash on this world."
"Kuhahaha! Wonderful!"
"Cheers!"
Four different-sized barrels and cups rose into the firelight and clashed together with a hearty clang, the sparks dancing in the air like fireflies—marking the toast of four dreamers beneath the open sea of stars.