It took an entire day for Garp's warship to navigate the navy's exclusive passage, cross the Red Continent, and finally break into the New World.
By nightfall, the vessel anchored at a quiet, nameless port.
The evening breeze carried a salty bite, stars glittered across the velvet sky. Inside his cabin, Tsugikuni Yoriichi lay on a hammock, gazing at the night through a small window. The room, originally reserved for one, had been reassigned by Garp to hold two.
On the bed nearby, Aokiji sprawled beneath half a quilt, mouth slightly open, breathing slow and steady.
Yoriichi hadn't been given such luxuries. To Garp, he was an "extra hand" on board, and hammocks were all that remained. Aokiji had even offered to swap beds, but Yoriichi politely refused. It wasn't shyness—he simply wanted to experience life at sea properly.
The hammock swayed gently with the ship's motion. Surprisingly comfortable.
> Life at sea isn't so bad, Yoriichi thought, eyelids heavy. Within moments, sleep claimed him.
That night, his dreams returned once more:
The sea lapping against golden shores, sunlight bathing a small coastal village. Honest townsfolk lived simple, self-sufficient lives—modest, but filled with peace. And there, among them, was Yoriichi, woven seamlessly into their tranquil existence.
---
At dawn, the groan of chains rattling and the anchor lifting stirred him awake. Pale sunlight filtered through the cabin's tiny window.
The bed was already empty—Aokiji gone, his blankets neatly folded. Yoriichi stretched, dropped lightly from the hammock, and made for the door.
After washing up, he followed the smell of food to the ship's mess hall.
"Hey! Over here, Yunyi!"
He spotted Aokiji, waving him over with the easy grin of youth. Despite his rank, the twenty-something still carried an unshakable boyish energy.
Yoriichi collected bread and milk, then joined him at the table.
"How was your first night?" Aokiji asked with interest. "Comfortable? Any seasickness?"
Yoriichi smiled faintly. "Not bad. The hammock suits me fine. And no seasickness—it'd take more than this ship to shake me."
He bit into the bread, then looked around the bustling hall. Lowering his voice, he asked:
"Kuzan, I've heard whispers. This mission… we're here to hunt down the Roger Pirates, aren't we? Who are they exactly? What crimes brought the navy after them?"
The spark in Aokiji's eyes was immediate. Leaning closer, he began recounting:
"The Roger Pirates, huh? They've been stirring trouble for years. Back in the East Blue, they struck two naval branches—Roger himself killed one of the captains. Then, while evading pursuit, they crossed over a dozen countries, plundering and murdering nobles along the way. That earned them the highest bounties in the East Blue."
He paused, taking a swig of milk before continuing.
"After that, they pushed into the New World. Defeated countless rivals, slipped the navy's nets more times than I can count, and rose to infamy. A few years back, they returned to the East Blue. We thought maybe they'd retire. But… last year, their movements became strange. They've been drifting between the New World and the Four Seas. And just recently, for reasons no one knows, they plunged back into the New World."
"Vice Admiral Garp has been chasing them ever since. Now that he's got solid intel, he intends to strike."
Yoriichi listened quietly. To the navy, these crimes—attacking bases, looting World Government allies, killing nobles—were unforgivable. But even as he nodded, he knew it wasn't the whole truth. Such deeds alone couldn't explain the legend of Gol D. Roger. There had to be more—things Aokiji himself likely didn't know.
"And the crew?" Yoriichi pressed. "Who follows him? How strong are they?"
"Roger himself—Gol D. Roger. His bounty is 2.6 billion," Aokiji said gravely. "He's fought Vice Admiral Garp head-on multiple times… and escaped every time. You don't need me to tell you how terrifying that is.
"His right hand is Silvers Rayleigh—1.1 billion bounty. A swordsman from Wano, Kozuki Oden, joined them after leaving Whitebeard's ship. Then you've got the Mink Tribe—Inuarashi and Nekomamushi."
Aokiji's face suddenly brightened. He slapped Yoriichi on the shoulder.
"Oh! And you'll like this—there are two kids aboard, about your age!"
Yoriichi blinked. "My age?"
"Yeah. One's named Shanks… the other, Buggy, I think?" Aokiji rubbed his chin, uncertain.
Understanding dawned on Yoriichi. So Garp mentioned them for this reason…
Memories stirred—his last conversation with Zephyr before leaving, Garp's offhand remark about two boys on Roger's crew.
It all aligned. Shanks and Buggy.
Until now, it had only been suspicion. But hearing it confirmed, Yoriichi could finally place himself on the timeline of this world. The pieces fell together.
Shanks is still just a boy… which means the great upheaval is still a few years away. The world hasn't yet reached the turning point.
The thought left him both restless and determined.
---
After breakfast, the two prepared for training, but were intercepted by a tall man with a sword at his hip.
"Commander Bogart," Aokiji greeted. "Something you need?"
"Colonel Kuzan. Yoriichi." Bogart inclined his head politely. "Vice Admiral Garp has new orders. From today, Tsugikuni Yoriichi will no longer train in the Navy's Six Styles. Instead, he will begin Haki."
He continued evenly, "Colonel Kuzan, you'll now serve directly as Vice Admiral Garp's adjutant. I'll be taking over Yoriichi's instruction."
Yoriichi's eyes widened, a thrill sparking inside him.
Aokiji gave a low whistle. "Haki already, huh? Didn't expect you'd touch it so soon. Careful though—it's brutal training." He shuddered, as if remembering old pains. With a wave, he excused himself. "I'll leave you to it. Good luck."
Bogart drew his blade slightly, the steel glinting in the morning light. "Yoriichi
. Follow me. To the deck."
And so, the real training was about to begin.
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End of Chapter..