The aftereffects of Haki training were total. Kael Grylls felt like every bone in his body had been disassembled by Roger and Rayleigh and glued back together, ready to fall apart at a touch.
When their shabby little boat finally scraped up to a barren-looking uninhabited island, Kael practically crawled ashore and lay face down on the sand, one hand stretched tragically forward.
Captain, do not stop.
"Kuahahaha. Adventure. Adventure."
The instant Roger's boots hit solid ground he turned into an off-leash hound, eyes shining as he whooped something unintelligible and dove straight into the jungle. He vanished in a blink.
Very Roger of him.
"Is he not worried about venomous snakes and man-eaters," Kael muttered weakly.
"He is probably hoping there are," Rayleigh said as he hopped down from the boat and landed lightly beside him. "He said he felt something interesting."
"Interesting, or just bored and itching to break something," Kael rolled his eyes, forcing himself up and brushing off sand.
Rayleigh let it pass. He strolled along the shore, studying plants and tides.
Kael followed, working sore joints and taking in the place. The island pulsed with raw life. Towering trees blacked out the sky and the air smelled clean, a mix of soil and green.
"By the way, Rayleigh-san." Kael toed a pebble into the surf. "How did you and that damn Captain meet."
Rayleigh nudged up his glasses, gaze drifting to the horizon, as if a short film had started in his head.
"My house burned down. I was living on a boat."
"I am Roger. Our meeting is fate, Rayleigh."
"Want to overturn the world with me."
Kael rubbed his chin, laser-focused on the wrong part. "Stolen boat. Do not tell me the boat you stole was Roger's. Or Roger burned your house down."
Rayleigh: …
… scene break …
A thunderous boom tore the island in half. The ground quivered as if some leviathan rolled beneath it. Hundreds of birds burst from the canopy, shrieking. A column of dust punched skyward. Tree trunks snapped like matchsticks.
Kael and Rayleigh locked eyes. Same thought, same sigh.
"I knew it," Kael palmed his face.
Rayleigh exhaled, but his eyes had gone keen behind the lenses. "Come on. Let us see what trouble Roger stirred up this time."
They blurred into motion.
The island's heart had been turned into a battlefield. The jungle was flattened into a mangled clearing carved with crossing gouges and cratered pits. Splintered trunks lay everywhere, still smoking.
In the center, two figures were trading blows like a hurricane.
"Kuahahahaha. Good. Very good."
Roger laughed full-throated, long blade in hand, every cut carrying a mountain-splitting weight. His opponent was about his age, tall and broad-shouldered, long hair tied back.
The man fought with a pair of massive battle-axes, nothing fancy, all ferocious momentum.
Humble in look, supreme in bite.
Every time ax met blade the air flashed and screamed. Shockwaves shaved the ground bare.
Kael's pupils pinched.
Twin axes. Big frame. Dark shades. That feral, unbending will. This guy is…
Legendary cave crawler. Inspirational example of trade-school prodigy turned world-class. The real strongest man, for today at least.
"Scopper Gaban."
Kael shouted it in his heart. The future number three of the Roger Pirates. One of the fabled Gold, Silver and Copper, the Copper himself.
Roger and Gaban had already noticed the newcomers.
"Oh, there you are." Roger grinned and something in his eyes switched. "Then I cannot drag this out."
His presence flipped. The playful gleam vanished, replaced by a sovereign pressure that crashed over the clearing. Black-red lightning crawled along his blade and sizzled.
Gaban's face changed. Roger's aura was nothing like before. He did not back up. He roared, poured everything into his axes and charged to meet him.
"Good eyes." Roger laughed with approval. He raised the long blade high and cut.
"Divine Departure."
No gaudy effects. No wasted motion.
Just a single horizontal slash.
That strike, wrapped in Conqueror's Haki, ignored distance and was simply there. It smashed into Gaban's crossed axes with merciless precision.
For a heartbeat time froze.
Before the shock could leave his face, a brutal, incomprehensible force bulldozed through the ax heads and rammed into Gaban's body.
Crack.
Webs of fractures raced across the metal. Gaban flew as if hit by a train, eyes rolling white, blood drawing an arc from his mouth. He broke seven or eight trees before his body finally stopped. He sagged and went out.
One blow. Decision made.
Silence fell. Roger stood with his blade on his shoulder and that crooked smile.
Kael swallowed and saw stars. So this is Conqueror's coating.
Coach. Teach me that.
Divine Departure looks great. I will learn it.
Roger strode up to the unconscious Gaban. He did not finish him. He looked him over instead, then glanced at the axes webbed with cracks.
"Kuahahaha. Interesting fellow."
He apparently forgot who caused the mess. He turned and yelled at Rayleigh and Kael. "Wake him up. I have questions."
Ten minutes later, after Kael popped a neat little shockwave to jolt him, Gaban leaned against a tree, wary, studying the three weirdos in front of him.
"You are strong," Roger said cheerfully, squatting and handing him a waterskin. "I am Gol D. Roger. That is Rayleigh and that is Kael. What is your name. What is your dream."
Gaban blinked. He clearly had not expected that. He hesitated, then took the water and gulped twice before answering in a low voice. "Scopper Gaban. My dream is to travel the world and see every view on this sea with my own eyes. Then marry a big woman."
"Oh." Roger's eyes lit. He slapped his thigh and sprang up. "Travel the world. Good dream. I approve."
Kael: Is no one going to comment on the last part.
Roger thrust out his hand and smiled bright enough to light the whole forest. "Gaban. Join my crew. Let us turn this world upside down together."
Gaban looked into those clear, guileless eyes and the easy, contagious boldness in Roger's face. He went still.
A moment later his tight jaw loosened. He nodded hard.
"Okay."
Kael watched the whole out-of-nowhere recruitment and felt his inner snark flare like a bonfire.
That was it. You fight, ask a dream, then say "I approve" and the SSR signs on the line.
The legendary succubus named Roger is still cooking.
He looked from Roger and Gaban chatting like old friends to Rayleigh wearing his classic I am used to this expression and concluded the world was one big slapstick troupe.
Hiss. Do not roast them.
Rayleigh is the Pirate King's right arm. Gaban is the left.
So what am I.