There was no grand ceremony for the Oro Jackson's departure. As the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon, the massive anchor was slowly winched up, its heavy, prolonged creak sounding like a final farewell to the harbor.
Kyle didn't go to the dock to see them off. He simply stood by the window on the second floor of the tavern, watching the ship that carried the dream of an era as it silently glided out of the port. The crew didn't look back or shout their goodbyes; all of that had been settled in last night's drinks, in the unspoken understanding in each other's eyes.
Roger stood at the bow, his back as steady as a mountain. Only when the ship had fully turned and was about to disappear over the edge of the horizon did he raise his arm high, as if casually, and clench his fist toward the town.
Leaning against the window frame, Kyle raised his own cup, clinking it with that distant figure across the vast waves.
"Bon voyage, Captain."
After seeing off a ship full of heroes, Kyle turned to face two troublesome patients.
"Water… I want water… Treasure… It's all mine…" Buggy writhed like a maggot in his blanket, his face flushed red as he spouted nonsense.
Shanks, in the next bed, was a bit better. At least he wasn't talking in his sleep, but he had twisted his blanket into the shape of a scabbard and was clutching it tightly, his brow furrowed as if he were locked in an epic duel.
Kyle sighed. He felt as if he had instantly gone from being a core fighter to a full-time nanny. He extended a finger, its tip vibrating almost imperceptibly. A cool, gentle breeze appeared from nowhere, brushing precisely over their foreheads and carrying away some of the heat from their fevers. Shanks's tight expression relaxed, and Buggy stopped muttering about treasure, falling into a deeper sleep.
Over the next few days, Kyle experienced the full "joy" of taking care of children. The two boys' conditions fluctuated, and they were far more troublesome when they were awake.
"Kyle! Has my nose gotten bigger?! Quick, help me check!" Buggy wailed, holding up a mirror with snot and tears streaming down his face. "It must be that red-haired bastard's fault!"
"Huh?! What are you talking about?!" Shanks, though weak, hadn't lost his fighting spirit. He immediately grabbed a pillow and threw it. "You're the one who got sick first!"
"I don't care! My nose! My handsome nose!"
Kyle, the official mediator, had to step in and settle yet another boring dispute.
"Kyle, I want to practice my sword," Shanks said later, looking at him with burning intensity. "I think I can swing my sword even while lying down. Maybe I'll figure out a new move."
"If you move again, I'll stick you to the ceiling," Kyle replied expressionlessly. Shanks immediately behaved.
To prevent the two from tearing the room apart, Kyle had to develop new ways to use his Devil Fruit. He learned to use his wave abilities to scan their physical conditions, confirming that they had no lung infections and saving them from Crocus's horribly bitter medicines. He also figured out how to use a low-power heatwave to warm their soup and even roast a few sweet potatoes on the side.
Days passed in this chaotic routine. The boys' health gradually improved, from being stuck in bed to being able to walk, and finally, to running around town causing trouble again. Kyle was happy to have the peace. He would sit on the harbor breakwater, using his powers to make a small stream of water dance to tease the fish, or refract sunlight to create strange shadows on the wall for the town's children.
He never regretted his decision. The secrets of the world—the Will of D, the Void Century—were, to him, like a book waiting on the highest shelf. He knew it was there, full of temptation, but he enjoyed the process of reaching for it and opening it himself far more. Roger and the crew were the pioneers who would put a final, thunderous exclamation mark on their era. He preferred to be a free reader, slowly savoring the story as it unfolded.
On a clear day, with not a cloud in the sky, Kyle was being pestered by Shanks and Buggy to conduct "rehabilitation training" in a field outside town.
"Kyle! My sword is getting thirsty!" Shanks declared, swinging a wooden sword with a powerful whoosh.
"My throwing knives are not to be underestimated either!" Buggy shouted, not to be outdone.
Kyle simply held each of them by the head, forcing them to be quiet for a moment. Just then, the sound of flapping wings approached from afar. The News Coo had arrived.
The birds circled down, dropping newspapers into the town square. Instantly, the entire town erupted.
"Hey! Look at the extra!"
"Oh my god! Is this for real?!"
"Incredible! The world is about to change!"
"Did the Roger Pirates finally do it?!"
Waves of noisy discussion surged through the streets. At that exact moment, similar scenes were unfolding all over the world. Shanks and Buggy stopped their bickering and curiously squeezed into the crowd. Kyle stood still, quietly listening to the excited shouts.
"Pirate Roger has completed an unprecedented circumnavigation of the world!"
"He reached the legendary Final Island!"
"The overlord of the sea has finally been born!"
"He is the King of the Sea… the Pirate King!"
When the words "Pirate King" reached his ears, Kyle's lips finally curved upwards in an uncontrollable smile. He let out a long, slow breath, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. What welled up in his chest was not regret, but a heartfelt joy and immense pride.
Shanks and Buggy pushed their way back through the crowd, holding a newspaper, and rushed back to him like madmen.
"Kyle! Kyle! Look!" Shanks was flushed with excitement. He spread the newspaper out, his finger jabbing at the enormous headline.
PIRATE KING BORN! GOL D. ROGER CONQUERS THE GRAND LINE!
Below the headline was a photo of Roger standing at the bow of the Oro Jackson, laughing with all his heart. His smile was the same as always, big enough to swallow the entire ocean.
"Captain… he really did it!" Buggy's eyes were red, his voice choked with tears, but he couldn't help but grin, his expression a mix of comical and sincere.
Kyle's gaze moved from the headline to the report's details. The world would now honor Gol D. Roger, who possessed immense wealth, fame, and power, as the "Pirate King." The report also mentioned that Roger had given a new name to the Final Island, which had remained untouched for eight hundred years…
"Laugh Tale."
Kyle whispered the name. He could almost picture the scene. When they reached the end and saw the so-called "great treasure," Roger must have pointed at it all, laughing so hard he doubled over with tears streaming down his face. And then, in his uniquely unrestrained way, he would have announced to the world: "This island shall be called 'Laugh Tale'! Kuhahaha!"
Because the greatest treasure in the world was, in itself, the greatest joke. It was so perfectly him.
"Hey, Kyle, why are you laughing too?" Shanks asked, looking a little puzzled.
"It's nothing," Kyle said, reining in his smile. He rubbed the two boys' heads. "I just think Roger's laugh truly is the loudest in the whole world."
He looked up, gazing into the distant sky, as if he could pierce through the clouds and see the legendary ship, finally returning home.
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