-Real World-
The revelation rippled across the world like a shockwave.
There's another way to reach Laugh Tale.
The final island—that legendary destination where Gol D. Roger had found the truth about the world, where the treasure ONEPIECE supposedly waited—could be reached through a shortcut. An Eternal Pose that pointed directly to those coordinates, bypassing the need to collect Road Poneglyphs, decipher ancient texts, or follow the proper sequence of islands.
One simple navigational tool could replace years of dangerous voyage.
No wonder Buggy the Clown had worked so hard in the future. No wonder he'd specifically targeted Impel Down during his infamous prison break. The mystery that had puzzled viewers since that segment aired finally made sense—he'd been hunting Douglas Bullet specifically for that Eternal Pose. Everything else—the chaos, the freed prisoners, the destruction—had been secondary objectives or convenient bonuses.
The revelation embarrassed certain pirates who'd spent years risking their lives gathering fragments of information, following cryptic clues, and desperately pursuing the dream of becoming Pirate King. All that effort, all that sacrifice, and there had been a shortcut available the entire time?
Of course, this shortcut only mattered to those who prioritized results over journey. Pirates like Monkey D. Luffy—adventurers who loved the process of exploration more than the destination—wouldn't care about the Eternal Pose's existence. The voyage itself was the point. Reaching Laugh Tale through a shortcut would defeat the entire purpose.
But for ambitious individuals focused solely on claiming power and status? The Eternal Pose represented a game-changing advantage.
-Real World - Somewhere in the New World-
Red-Haired Shanks sat alone on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the Sky Screen's broadcast still playing in his mind. One of the Yonko—an Emperor of the Sea who commanded respect and fear across the Grand Line—currently looked more like a melancholic drunk than a world power.
His eyes remained fixed on the distant horizon, but his thoughts were centuries away, dwelling on the past and future simultaneously.
Buggy... you've changed so much.
The domineering presence his old friend had displayed in the broadcast—that overwhelming Haoshoku Haki (Conqueror's Haki) that cleared the sky of clouds—was genuinely impressive. In terms of raw spiritual pressure, Buggy's future self nearly matched Shanks's own level. The comparison wasn't hyperbole or generous interpretation. They were approaching true parity.
"Buggy..." Shanks whispered to the wind, a sad smile crossing his scarred face. "Time really does change everything. You've become incredibly strong. I wonder... would you accept my challenge now? Would you finally agree to fight me seriously?"
Memories flooded back unbidden. Two trainee crew members on Roger's ship, constantly bickering and competing. Shanks and Buggy—rivals and friends in equal measure, pushing each other to improve while simultaneously driving each other insane with petty arguments.
Back then, they'd been equals. Genuinely, truly equal. Their sparring matches ended in draws more often than victories. When one pulled ahead temporarily, the other would catch up within weeks. They'd competed for Captain Roger's attention, for Rayleigh's training time, for the right to claim they were the better trainee.
It had been... fun. Exhausting and frustrating, certainly, but fun.
Then Buggy's cleverness had brought him disaster. That incident with the Devil Fruit—the Bara Bara no Mi (Chop-Chop Fruit)—had changed everything. Suddenly, Buggy possessed a supernatural ability that Shanks lacked. For a brief period, the red-haired trainee had fallen behind, unable to compete with someone who could split their body into flying pieces.
But instead of spurring Buggy to greater heights, the fruit had become a crutch. He'd grown increasingly dependent on his Devil Fruit powers, neglecting his Haki development and physical training. His fighting style evolved around exploiting the Bara Bara no Mi's immunity to slashing attacks rather than cultivating raw strength.
And Shanks, who'd chosen to remain a "normal" human without Devil Fruit abilities, had pulled ahead through pure determination. Haki training, swordsmanship refinement, physical conditioning—he'd poured everything into natural growth. The gap between them had widened year by year, until Buggy stopped even trying to compete.
He'd lost heart, Shanks thought sadly. After we disbanded, after Captain Roger's execution, Buggy just... gave up on being strong. Focused on survival and treasure hunting instead of pushing his limits.
Seeing his old friend on the Sky Screen—powerful, confident, commanding—stirred conflicting emotions. Pride that Buggy had finally reclaimed his ambition. Relief that the potential Shanks always knew existed had finally manifested. But also concern, because the path Buggy had chosen led somewhere dark.
Conquering the world through violence. Overthrowing the Celestial Dragons. Destroying the existing order and rebuilding it according to his vision.
You're walking the same road as Rocks, Shanks thought grimly. And look where that led him.
The comparison was unavoidable. Rocks D. Xebec—the pirate who'd nearly destroyed the World Government forty years ago, who'd commanded a crew of monsters that included Whitebeard, Big Mom, Kaido, Shiki the Golden Lion, Captain John, and dozens of other legends.
The Rocks Pirates had been the most powerful crew in history. Stronger than Roger's at their respective peaks. More ambitious, more ruthless, more willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve their goals.
And they'd been annihilated at God Valley.
Destroyed by the combined forces of Gol D. Roger and Monkey D. Garp working together—pirates and Marines united against a common threat. Rocks himself had died there, his dream of world domination buried along with his body. The surviving crew members had scattered, eventually becoming Yonko and legends in their own right, but forever marked by that failure.
History doesn't waste words on losers, Shanks reflected bitterly. Rocks was erased from official records. His achievements forgotten. His name barely whispered. That's what happens when you challenge the world and lose.
Would Buggy face the same fate?
The Sky Screen had shown Buggy's rise, his growing power, his declaration of ambition. But it had also revealed Shanks's own future—imprisoned somewhere dark, his crew destroyed or scattered, alone in whatever cell held him. The Red Hair Pirates, built over decades through blood and friendship, reduced to nothing.
And I couldn't protect them, the thought stabbed through him like a blade. I failed everyone who trusted me.
The depression that had plagued Shanks since seeing that future segment threatened to resurface. His remaining hand clenched into a fist. His jaw tightened. The weight of predetermined failure pressed down like a physical force.
But then—
No.
Something shifted inside him. A refusal to accept the Sky Screen's prophecy as inevitable. The same stubborn determination that had carried him from trainee to Emperor surged back to life.
I won't let that future happen. I can't control Buggy's choices, but I can control mine. If the path ahead leads to my crew's destruction, then I'll change the path. Defy fate itself if necessary.
The decision crystallized with absolute certainty.
Shanks's Haoshoku Haki erupted outward in response to his renewed will. The invisible pressure wave radiated from his position, strong enough to crack the stone beneath his feet and send seabirds fleeing from nearby trees. Even though he sat alone on this isolated cliff, his crew sensed the change immediately.
The captain's back, they thought with relief and excitement. The real Red-Haired Shanks has returned.
Within moments, footsteps approached from behind. Shanks didn't need to turn around to know who it was—Ben Beckman's presence was as familiar as his own heartbeat.
"Captain," his first mate said, settling down beside him without asking permission. "Feeling better?"
Shanks glanced at his vice-captain and grinned—the first genuine smile he'd managed in days. "Yeah. I was wallowing in self-pity for too long. That's not like me."
"No, it's not." Beckman lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply before continuing. "Glad you've snapped out of it. The crew was getting worried."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, both watching the ocean. Finally, Beckman voiced the question that had been bothering him since watching the Sky Screen broadcast.
"Captain, I have to ask—is the Eternal Pose that Bullet was hiding actually real? Can someone really reach Laugh Tale directly without collecting Road Poneglyphs or deciphering the historical texts?"
The question carried weight. Ben Beckman was one of the most intelligent men on the seas—his tactical mind rivaled any Marine strategist. If something didn't make sense to him, it was worth examining carefully.
Shanks considered how much to reveal. Beckman was trustworthy beyond question, but some secrets were dangerous even to share with allies.
"It's real," Shanks confirmed after a moment. "Buggy and I both saw that Eternal Pose. One of the crew members—I won't say who—used a Log Pose without authorization while we were on Laugh Tale. Recorded the island's location permanently."
Beckman's eyes widened slightly. "And Captain Roger allowed this?"
"Hell no." Shanks laughed without humor. "Roger was furious when he found out. Absolutely livid. He gathered everyone on deck and made a show of throwing the Eternal Pose into the ocean, cutting off any possibility of someone using it to return. Or so we thought."
"But Bullet retrieved it somehow," Beckman concluded. "Either dove in after it was thrown, or found it later through some other means."
"Probably. Bullet was always... intense about becoming stronger. Obsessed with challenges and competition. If he saw that Eternal Pose as a future advantage—something he could trade or leverage—he'd absolutely secure it secretly."
Shanks paused, then added more quietly: "Captain Roger threw it away to protect us. He understood that carrying something so valuable would make every remaining crew member a target forever. If we wanted to retire peacefully, live normal lives after disbanding, we couldn't have that kind of treasure hanging over our heads."
The wisdom of that decision became clearer with age. Even someone as powerful as Silvers Rayleigh had chosen anonymity, hiding his identity to avoid constant challenges and assassination attempts. Carrying an Eternal Pose to Laugh Tale would have made retirement impossible.
"So why does Buggy want to reach Laugh Tale now?" Beckman asked the obvious question. "From the broadcast, he doesn't seem interested in ONEPIECE itself. He wants world domination—a completely different goal."
Shanks shook his head slowly. "I've been thinking about that too. Buggy's not stupid, despite what his clownish appearance suggests. He knows that just reaching Laugh Tale won't automatically grant him anything meaningful. The island's treasure is... complicated."
He remembered Captain Roger's laughter after discovering the truth. That strange mix of joy and regret, amusement and frustration. The way Roger had smiled and said: "We were too early. Maybe the next generation will succeed where we failed."
"If you're not the destined person," Shanks continued carefully, "visiting Laugh Tale is basically pointless. You'll see the truth, yes. Understand some of the world's mysteries. But the actual treasure—the thing that makes someone Pirate King—can't be claimed by just anyone."
"Captain Roger learned this firsthand," Beckman observed. "He reached Laugh Tale, found ONEPIECE, and realized he couldn't use it to change the world. So he used his execution instead, opening the Great Pirate Era to accelerate whatever destiny is supposed to unfold."
"Exactly." Shanks's expression turned melancholic again. "Buggy isn't the person Captain Roger was waiting for. I'm certain of that. Neither am I, for that matter. I'm betting everything on Luffy—Monkey D. Luffy is the one who'll bring the change the world needs."
The admission hung in the air. Shanks had literally bet his arm on that belief, sacrificing his limb to save Luffy's life years ago. The stakes couldn't be higher.
Beckman glanced at his captain's empty left sleeve, the fabric tied off neatly where a powerful swordsman's arm should have been. Shanks had been one of the most formidable dual-wielding fighters on the seas. Now he fought one-handed, his combat style forever altered by that sacrifice in East Blue.
"You bet your entire future on that kid," Beckman said quietly. "Your arm, your reputation, probably your life eventually. That's... a hell of a gamble, Captain."
"I know." Shanks smiled sadly. "But Luffy has something special. Something Roger recognized in him instantly. When I look at that boy, I see the same spark that made Captain Roger who he was. The same ability to make people follow him through pure charisma and conviction."
"He's still young though," Beckman pointed out. "Too young to face the kind of threats that are gathering. What if the Celestial Dragons or World Government eliminate him before he grows strong enough? What if your bet fails because we didn't protect him adequately?"
The concern was legitimate. Monkey D. Luffy was the grandson of Marine Hero Garp, yes, but that wouldn't shield him forever. If the World Government identified him as a genuine threat to their control, they'd deploy overwhelming force to crush him. Age and potential wouldn't matter—only results.
Shanks was quiet for a long moment, wrestling with that exact fear. Finally, he spoke with quiet determination:
"That's why I need to survive. Why my crew needs to stay intact. We have to buy Luffy time to grow, create chaos that draws attention away from him, ensure he reaches his potential before the real battles begin."
He turned to face Beckman directly.
"The Sky Screen showed my future imprisonment and the crew's destruction. But I refuse to accept that as inevitable. We'll change course, adapt our strategy, do whatever's necessary to avoid that fate. If that means taking more risks, fighting harder battles, challenging opponents we'd normally avoid—so be it."
Beckman nodded slowly, respect and concern mixing in his expression. "And Buggy? What about your old friend's ambition?"
Shanks's face clouded. "As his friend, I desperately don't want Buggy to follow Rocks's path. I've seen where that road leads—God Valley happened within my lifetime. Rocks gathered the strongest crew imaginable and still lost everything."
His voice dropped lower, heavy with conviction.
"That path is doomed to fail. I believe that absolutely. Buggy will fight with everything he has, probably accomplish incredible things, and ultimately be crushed by the weight of history and inevitability. The World Government has survived eight hundred years for a reason. Challenging them directly, through raw force and declared conquest, is suicide."
"The Holy Roman Empire," Beckman added quietly, referencing something from an earlier Sky Screen broadcast. "Its establishment in the future implies the failure of Buggy's Pirate Empire, doesn't it? The World Government reorganizes under a new name, suggesting they survived his challenge and adapted."
"Exactly." Shanks's expression was grim. "Buggy will probably inflict enormous damage, maybe even temporarily topple parts of the existing structure. But the World Government will endure, reorganize, and ultimately eliminate him. Just like they did with Rocks."
He stared out at the ocean, watching waves crash against distant rocks.
"I love Buggy like a brother. We grew up together, competed together, sailed together under the greatest pirate who ever lived. But he's chosen a path I can't follow—one I don't believe in. And that breaks my heart."
Because in the end, this was about more than strategic disagreement. It was about watching a friend walk deliberately toward destruction, unable to stop them or even slow them down. All Shanks could do was prepare for the aftermath, try to save what pieces remained when Buggy's ambition finally burned itself out.
"Do you think he knows?" Beckman asked quietly. "That he's probably going to fail? That he's walking the same road that killed Rocks?"
Shanks considered the question seriously. "Maybe. Buggy's not naive, despite his theatrical personality. But I think he believes he'll succeed where Rocks failed—that his strategy will be better, his crew more loyal, his timing more favorable."
He paused, then added with bitter honesty: "Or maybe he knows failure is likely and doesn't care. Some people would rather die chasing an impossible dream than live a comfortable life knowing they never tried. Buggy might be one of those people now."
The conversation lapsed into heavy silence. Two of the smartest men on the seas, both understanding that the future held tragedy they couldn't prevent. Friends destined to stand on opposite sides of conflicts that would reshape the world.
Beckman finished his cigarette and immediately lit another—a rare sign of stress from the usually unflappable first mate.
"Captain, what's our plan? Do we oppose Buggy actively if he threatens the balance of power? Or do we stay neutral and focus on protecting Luffy's development?"
"Neither. Both." Shanks ran his hand through his distinctive red hair, frustration evident. "We maintain the current power balance as one of the Yonko, but we don't actively hunt Buggy or interfere with his operations unless absolutely necessary. If he succeeds somehow, against all odds, then maybe the world deserves a new order. But if he fails as we expect..."
His voice hardened.
"...we make damn sure Luffy is positioned to inherit what Buggy dies trying to achieve. Turn his sacrifice into stepping stones for the next generation. That's all we can do."
It was cold, pragmatic, and ruthlessly honest. The calculus of someone who'd spent decades navigating the treacherous politics of the Yonko territories.
Beckman nodded slowly. "Understood. We maintain neutrality, support Luffy's growth indirectly, and prepare for the inevitable chaos when Buggy's ambition finally collapses."
"Yeah." Shanks stood, brushing dust from his pants. His renewed determination was palpable—the depression that had consumed him for days had burned away, replaced by fierce resolve. "And we make sure that this crew—our family—doesn't end up scattered and imprisoned like the Sky Screen showed. We'll defy that future through preparation and strength."
As he turned to head back toward where the rest of his crew waited, Shanks paused and looked back at the ocean one final time.
Buggy, he thought, I hope you know what you're doing. I hope there's some secret plan, some hidden advantage we don't see, some way you'll actually succeed against impossible odds.
But if not... if you're really heading toward the same fate as Rocks...
...then at least die without regrets, old friend. Make them work for it. Show them why you sailed on the Pirate King's ship.
And I'll make sure your death accomplishes something meaningful.
The wind carried those thoughts away, dispersing them like smoke. Shanks walked back to his crew with his head held high, ready to face whatever future awaited—predetermined or otherwise.
Behind him, the sun began setting over the ocean, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson. Beautiful, transient, and tinged with melancholy.
Just like everything else in a pirate's life.