To be honest, Rayleigh wanted nothing more than to slap himself right across the face.
All those jokes he'd made yesterday — about coincidences and fate — were suddenly coming back to haunt him.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku had actually shown up.
To deliver the money.
And by some cursed twist of fate, Rayleigh just happened to walk straight into him.
It wasn't that Rayleigh was afraid — he just didn't want to ruin his peaceful retirement by punching a Fleet Admiral through a wall.
Behind the bar, Ron merely smiled, choosing not to speak. He wanted to see how this scene would unfold.
After all, Sengoku and Rayleigh were old friends. Would they embrace like brothers lost to time… or throw punches first and reminisce later?
At that moment, Rem, unaware of the tension, tilted her head politely and said,
"Mr. Rayleigh, why don't you come in and sit?"
So polite it hurts… Rayleigh thought miserably.
He forced a smile. "Ah, no, my gas stove's still on at home — gotta go check on it."
He began backing away, step by careful step. No way was he letting that sly old monk Sengoku get a free shot from behind.
"Rayleigh?!" Momousagi's eyes widened instantly.
Her hand dropped to the hilt at her hip — a long, slender blade that sang as it left its sheath.
The Great Pirate Era might be chaotic, but the world was balanced on a three-way stalemate between the Marines, the Four Emperors, and the Warlords.
A living legend like the Dark King walking right into her grasp? Capturing him could rewrite her entire career.
"Hold it," Sengoku said sharply, raising his hand. "We're not here to fight."
A battle here would reduce Sabaody to rubble — and gain the Marines nothing.
As Fleet Admiral, Sengoku knew when to weigh the scales.
Besides, Rayleigh had long since retired. As long as he kept his head down, the Marines could afford to ignore him.
"Tch. Fine. Ron, bring me another bottle of that tonic from yesterday."
Rayleigh swaggered to the bar, pretending calm, but inwardly thanking fate that it wasn't Akainu who'd come instead. If it had been that hot-headed magma man, they'd already be halfway through demolishing the island.
Moments later, Ram placed a glass before him. "Please enjoy, sir."
Rayleigh chuckled and took a sip. "Perfect as ever."
Sengoku smirked. "What, the great Dark King fallen so far you only order a single drink?"
"You don't know jack," Rayleigh shot back, flipping him off. "One drink was all it took for the callus to grow back. Last night was a night of passion and transcendence!"
Sengoku blinked. "...I understood every word individually, but together they make no sense."
Rayleigh leaned closer and whispered a quick explanation.
"...!!!" Sengoku's pupils contracted sharply.
He almost asked Ron for a glass of the same, just to confirm — but Momousagi was right there. Ahem. Not the time.
"Anyway," Sengoku coughed, regaining his composure, "Ron, with strength like yours, isn't it a waste to just run a tavern?"
Rayleigh almost spat out his drink.
Wait, what?! You're recruiting him?
Instinctively, he slid a few inches away. If Ron actually agreed, Rayleigh planned to vanish before he got handed over as a "peace offering."
Ron smiled mildly. "Everyone makes their own choices, Fleet Admiral. Value can't be measured by strength alone. I've got a tavern, two lovely assistants — what more could I ask for?"
So that was it. Sengoku hadn't come just to repay a debt — the "payment" was just the excuse.
The real goal was recruitment.
But Ron knew better. He had knocked out Tea Dolphin and extorted the Marines — this "friendly visit" could just as easily be a ploy to lure him into Marineford for capture.
Sengoku frowned slightly. "Then why train so hard? Why gain such power if not to fulfill some greater ambition?"
Ron shrugged. "Ambition? I just wanted to survive. A little self-defense isn't excessive in a world this dangerous, is it?"
All three Marines — Sengoku, Rayleigh, and Momousagi — twitched.
Self-defense?
Who needs self-defense strong enough to knock out a Rear Admiral candidate?!
Before Sengoku could press further, shouting erupted outside.
Gunfire echoed across the port — Marines flooding the streets in formation. The air shook with explosions.
"Fire Fist Ace again!" Sengoku's teeth ground audibly. "That fool Garp really raised two troublemakers for grandsons!"
"Grandsons?" Rayleigh blinked, confused.
Wait — isn't Ace Whitebeard's son?
Then what's this about Garp?
He snorted. "So what, does that make Whitebeard Garp's son now? Hahaha—"
But his laughter faltered as realization struck.
Hold up… if that logic holds… doesn't that make Roger Garp's son too?!
And why, for some reason, did Ace's name always make him feel oddly sentimental?
Sengoku slammed his hand on the bar. "No matter the bloodline, Tea Dolphin's under orders to capture him at all costs. His three-hundred-million debt will keep him motivated for months."
Ron arched a brow. "Ah, the butterfly effect, huh?"
He turned his gaze toward the window.
Outside, over a dozen Marine battleships were docked — tens of thousands of soldiers, with two veteran Vice Admirals in command alongside Tea Dolphin.
His little stunt had already shifted the entire course of events.
If not for the "incident" at his tavern, the Marines would've taken things more slowly.
Ace and Blackbeard would have escaped, the story would've continued as before — the world marching steadily toward Marineford and the "War of the Best."
But now? Everything was spiraling.
Ron's eyes narrowed. If Ace dies early, Whitebeard will never come to the tavern. That means no Quake-Quake Fruit for me…
He needed chaos. Big, beautiful chaos.
Because only chaos would draw Whitebeard to Sabaody — and into his tavern's orbit.
"System," he murmured mentally, "can I extract Devil Fruit powers from customers who confess?"
[Ding — Affirmative.]
[When selecting from a guest's abilities, Devil Fruit powers can be acquired as fruits or innate skills. The host will no longer suffer seawater weakness.]
Ron's eyes lit up — then immediately clouded.
Ace's death wasn't the problem; his fruit was.
But Ace was the only one tied to Whitebeard through deep emotion — the kind needed for the system's "bond."
Sengoku and Rayleigh? Not a chance. Unless… well, let's not imagine that pairing.
Ace had to live.
Only then could Whitebeard follow the emotional link — and when he arrived, Ron could claim what he wanted.
Ron glanced back at the three figures before him and smiled slyly.
"Gentlemen," he said softly, "would you like to hear a touching little story?"
The three exchanged uncertain looks — but nodded.
"Twenty years ago," Ron began, pouring himself a small drink, "there was a brave woman — a mother — who fled to a remote island, pregnant and pursued by her enemies. They found her in the end, captured all the expectant mothers…"
He swirled his glass, voice growing quieter.
"But this woman… she refused to die until her child was born. She endured twenty long months of pregnancy, and only after bringing her baby into the world did she finally close her eyes forever."
He looked up, smiling faintly. "Touching, isn't it?"
The moment the story ended, his gaze fixed on Rayleigh.
The color drained from the old pirate's face.
He froze in his seat, mind spinning wildly — because suddenly, every word made perfect sense.
And the truth hit him like a lightning bolt.
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