The Grand Line was everything Roger had imagined and nothing like he expected.
They had been sailing for three days since passing through the gate, and already Roger had seen things that defied explanation. An island where the trees grew upside down, roots reaching toward the sky. A school of fish that flew through the air like birds, chirping and singing as they passed. A section of ocean where the water was bright pink and tasted like strawberries.
"This place is INSANE," Hiro said, staring at their latest discovery—a cloud that had descended to sea level and was currently floating alongside their ship like a curious pet.
"This place is AMAZING," Roger corrected, reaching out to touch the cloud. It felt like cotton candy and hummed gently under his fingers.
"Those are not mutually exclusive."
"Fair point."
The cloud drifted away eventually, leaving behind a faint rainbow in its wake. Roger watched it go with a grin that hadn't left his face since they entered the Grand Line.
Everything here felt RIGHT. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. The sea sang to him constantly now—not in words, exactly, but in feelings. Warmth when he was going the right direction. Gentle warnings when danger approached. And always, always, a sense of welcome.
"Roger-sama," Sora called from the crow's nest. "There's something ahead!"
Roger squinted at the horizon.
In the distance, he could see what looked like a massive structure rising from the water. Not an island—something artificial. Something built.
"What is that?" Hiro asked, joining Roger at the bow.
"I don't know. But we're going to find out."
The structure turned out to be a shipyard.
Not just any shipyard—the biggest shipyard Roger had ever seen. Massive dry docks stretched across dozens of artificial islands, connected by bridges and cranes and mechanisms that looked centuries ahead of anything in the normal world. Ships in various stages of construction filled every dock, from small fishing vessels to massive galleons.
And everywhere, there were workers. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
"Who builds ships in the middle of the Grand Line?" Hiro wondered aloud.
"People who want to build the BEST ships," Roger replied. "The Grand Line is the ultimate testing ground. If a ship can survive here, it can survive anywhere."
They approached cautiously, unsure of what kind of reception they would receive. But as they got closer, a small boat launched from one of the docks and came to meet them.
Standing at its bow was a fishman.
Roger's heart skipped.
He was tall—at least seven feet—with blue-gray skin and gills visible on his neck. His arms were thick with muscle, and his hands were webbed. Sharp teeth showed when he smiled, which he was doing now.
"VISITORS!" the fishman called out cheerfully. "We don't get many visitors! Welcome to Shipwright's Haven!"
"Uh... thank you?" Hiro managed.
The fishman's boat pulled alongside theirs, and he leaped aboard with surprising grace for someone his size.
"Name's Kai!" he announced, extending a webbed hand. "I'm one of the foremen here. What brings you to our little corner of the sea?"
Roger stepped forward and shook Kai's hand firmly.
"I'm Roger. We're pirates."
Kai's smile widened.
"PIRATES! We've been getting a lot of those lately! Ever since that speech—you know, the one about One Piece—we've had adventurers coming through every week! Business is booming!"
Roger coughed awkwardly.
"That's... good to hear."
"So what can we do for you? Looking for repairs? Upgrades? A whole new vessel?"
Roger looked at their ship. The crew had done their best to maintain it, but it was still fundamentally a fishing boat with delusions of grandeur. It had gotten them this far through luck and the sea's goodwill, but it wasn't going to last forever.
He thought about what he really wanted.
And suddenly, he knew.
"I want to build a ship," Roger said. "Not just any ship. The greatest ship ever made."
Kai raised an eyebrow.
"That's a tall order. What did you have in mind?"
Roger closed his eyes.
Ace pulsed at his hip, and images flooded his mind. The Oro Jackson. Every detail, every plank, every sail. The ship that had carried the original Roger to the ends of the world and back.
"I can see it," Roger said slowly. "I can see exactly what I want."
He opened his eyes.
"Can you build from a description?"
Kai's grin turned predatory.
"Friend, we can build ANYTHING."
The next several hours were spent in Kai's office, with Roger describing every detail he could remember—or rather, every detail Ace could show him—about the Oro Jackson.
"The hull needs to be curved like THIS," Roger said, sketching badly on a piece of paper. "And the figurehead—it's an angel, but not a cute angel. A fierce one. Like it's ready to fight God himself."
"Interesting design philosophy," Kai noted, taking his own notes.
"The mast should be tall enough to catch any wind, but flexible enough to survive storms. And there needs to be a coating—something that lets the ship dive underwater without taking damage."
Kai's pen stopped.
"Underwater coating? You want to submerge your vessel?"
"Eventually, yes. There are places in the Grand Line you can only reach by diving."
"That's... advanced. Very advanced. It would require specialized materials, specialized craftsmen..."
"Can you do it?"
Kai was quiet for a long moment.
"Not me personally. But I know someone who might be able to help." He stood up. "Come with me. There's someone you should meet."
Kai led Roger through the shipyard, past workers and half-finished vessels, until they reached a smaller dock at the edge of the complex.
There, sitting on the edge of the water with her tail dangling in the waves, was a mermaid.
Roger's breath caught.
She was beautiful—not in the way human women were beautiful, but in the way the ocean itself was beautiful. Her scales shimmered with iridescent colors, shifting from blue to green to purple as she moved. Her hair was long and dark, floating around her like seaweed. And her eyes, when she turned to look at Roger, were the deepest blue he had ever seen.
"Kai," she said, her voice like water over stones. "You brought visitors."
"This is Roger," Kai introduced. "He wants to build the greatest ship ever made. And he wants underwater coating."
The mermaid raised an eyebrow.
"Does he now?"
She rose from the water with fluid grace, her tail splitting into legs as she stepped onto the dock. Roger tried not to stare—he failed, but he tried.
"I'm Nami," she said. "Not the Nami you might be thinking of, if the way you're looking at me is any indication."
Roger blinked.
"What?"
"You had a look. Like you recognized the name." She smiled mysteriously. "I get that sometimes. There are many Namis in the world."
Roger shook off his confusion.
"Right. Sorry. I'm Roger."
"So I heard. The Pirate King, yes? Word travels fast, even to the Grand Line."
Roger couldn't help but grin.
"You've heard of me?"
"Everyone's heard of you. The man who stood on an execution platform and told the world to chase their dreams." Nami studied him with those impossibly deep eyes. "You're either very brave or very stupid."
"Probably both."
"Fair enough." She turned and started walking along the dock. "Come with me. If you want underwater coating, you'll need to understand what you're asking for."
Nami led them to a workshop at the edge of the shipyard. Inside, the walls were covered with diagrams, samples, and strange equipment that Roger couldn't identify.
"Underwater coating is an ancient technique," Nami explained, gesturing at various displays. "It was developed centuries ago by fishmen and mermaids who wanted to help surface-dwellers explore the deep sea. The coating is made from the resin of certain trees—trees that only grow on a few specific islands."
"The Yarukiman Mangrove," Roger said without thinking.
Nami stopped.
"How do you know that name?"
"I... have good sources."
Nami stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed.
"You're full of secrets, Pirate King. I like that." She continued her explanation. "The coating creates a bubble around the ship—or anything else—that allows it to survive the pressure and breathe underwater. But it's fragile. It can only withstand so much stress before it pops."
"How do we get it?"
"The nearest Yarukiman grove is about two weeks' sail from here. If you're serious about this coating, you'll need to go there and harvest the resin yourself."
Roger nodded.
"What about the ship itself? Can you build it while we're gone?"
Nami and Kai exchanged glances.
"It would take time," Kai said. "A ship like what you're describing—with the specifications you've given—that's not something we can throw together in a few weeks. We're talking months of work. Maybe longer."
Roger's heart sank slightly.
Months. That was a long time. A lot could happen in months.
But then again, what was the alternative? Keep sailing in a glorified fishing boat until it fell apart? The Oro Jackson was supposed to be the ship that conquered the Grand Line. He couldn't do that in something held together by hope and prayers.
"Do it," Roger decided. "Start the construction. I'll get the coating materials and bring them back."
Kai grinned.
"That's the spirit! But there's one small problem."
"What?"
"Payment. A ship like this isn't cheap. We're talking about the most advanced vessel we've ever built. The materials alone will cost a fortune."
Roger's heart sank further.
He had exactly no money. The crew had pooled their resources for basic supplies, but they were barely scraping by. There was no way they could afford—
"I'll handle it," Nami said suddenly.
Everyone turned to look at her.
"What?"
"I'll cover the costs. Consider it an investment." Her smile was enigmatic. "I have a feeling this ship is going to be important. Call it mermaid intuition."
Kai looked surprised.
"Nami, that's... that's a lot of money."
"I'm aware." She turned to Roger. "But I have one condition."
"Name it."
"When the ship is done, I want to sail with you. At least for a while. I've been stuck on this island for too long. I want to see what's out there."
Roger's grin returned full force.
"Welcome to the crew."
That night, the crew celebrated.
They had found a shipyard. They were going to get the Oro Jackson—or at least a version of it. They had new crewmates in Kai and Nami, who had both expressed interest in joining once the ship was ready.
Everything was coming together.
Roger sat apart from the festivities, on a quiet dock overlooking the dark water. Ace lay across his lap, warm and present.
"So," Roger said quietly, "we're really doing this. Building the ship of legends."
Ace pulsed in response.
"You showed me the memories. The original Oro Jackson. How do you feel about recreating it?"
A complex series of emotions flowed from the sword. Pride. Sadness. Hope. Anticipation.
It will not be the same ship. It cannot be. The original Oro Jackson was built for the original Roger, by craftsmen who are long dead, in a time that has passed.
"I know."
But it can be something new. Something that carries the spirit forward. A ship for a new era, a new captain, a new dream.
Roger nodded slowly.
"I'm not trying to replace him. The original Roger, I mean. I'm not trying to pretend I'm him."
You are not him. But you carry his will. His laughter. His freedom. That is what matters.
"Is that really enough?"
Ace was silent for a moment.
Then, warmth flooded through Roger—stronger than ever before. And with it came something new.
Not a memory. Not an image.
Power.
Roger gasped as he felt it surge through him. His arms tingled. His vision sharpened. The world seemed to come into focus in ways he couldn't explain.
"What—what is this?"
Haki, Ace replied. The will made manifest. I have carried it within me for centuries, waiting for someone worthy to wield it.
"Haki? But I don't have—I'm not—"
You did not have it. Now you do. Or rather, you have access to what I hold. When you hold me, you can channel my Haki as your own.
Roger stared at the sword.
"You've had Haki this whole time?!"
Of course. I am not merely a sword. I am a partner. A companion. A holder of will and memory and power.
"And you're just NOW telling me this?!"
You were not ready before. You are ready now.
Roger didn't know whether to laugh or scream.
He settled for both.
"WAHAHAHAHA! This is INSANE! I have HAKI! Sort of! Through my SWORD!"
Ace seemed amused by his reaction.
There is much to learn. Armament Haki, to harden your blade and body. Observation Haki, to sense the world around you. And perhaps, in time, the Conqueror's Haki—the will to dominate.
"Conqueror's Haki," Roger breathed. "The original Roger had that."
He did. And his Haki still echoes within me. Whether you can awaken it yourself remains to be seen. But for now, focus on the basics.
Roger looked at the sword with new eyes.
This changed everything. With Haki, he could actually FIGHT. He could protect his crew. He could stand against the dangers of the Grand Line as more than just a lucky idiot with good speeches.
"Teach me," Roger said. "Teach me everything."
With pleasure.
The next morning, Roger began his training in earnest.
Kai had provided a training area—a cleared section of dock where Roger could practice without destroying anything important. The crew watched from a safe distance, half curious and half terrified.
"Focus," Ace instructed through their connection. "Armament Haki is about will. You must DECIDE that your blade will be harder, sharper, stronger. It is not a technique. It is a choice."
Roger held Ace in a ready stance, concentrating.
He tried to WILL the blade to harden.
Nothing happened.
"This is harder than it looks," he muttered.
Of course it is. Haki is the power of will. If it were easy, everyone would have it.
Roger tried again. And again. And again.
An hour passed. Two hours. Three.
His arms ached. His focus wavered. Frustration mounted.
"I can't do it," he said finally, lowering the blade. "Whatever the trick is, I can't figure it out."
You are thinking about it wrong. You are trying to CREATE Haki. But Haki is not created. It is released.
"Released from where?"
From within. Every living being has Haki. Most never access it because they do not know it exists, or do not believe they can. But you—you have already proven your will. You stood on an execution platform and laughed at death. You sailed into the Grand Line with no plan and no fear. You HAVE will. You simply need to let it out.
Roger considered this.
"So I'm not supposed to make something new. I'm supposed to... let go of something I already have?"
Exactly.
Roger closed his eyes.
He thought about everything that had brought him here. His death in the old world. His reincarnation in this one. The speech. The escape. The journey across the sea.
He had done impossible things. Not through power, but through sheer stubborn refusal to accept limitations.
That was his will.
He didn't need to create anything. He just needed to stop holding back.
Roger opened his eyes.
And swung.
The blade cut through the air—and for just a moment, a flicker of black energy traced along its edge.
"DID YOU SEE THAT?!" Roger shouted.
I felt it, Ace confirmed. That was Armament Haki. Weak, unstable, but real.
"I DID IT!"
Do not celebrate yet. That was one moment. You need to be able to sustain it.
"Don't care! Still celebrating! WAHAHAHAHA!"
The crew cheered from the sidelines, not entirely sure what they were cheering for but caught up in Roger's enthusiasm.
Kai, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a smile.
"That man is something else," he said to Nami, who had joined him.
"He's exactly what I expected," Nami replied. "And exactly what this world needs."
Over the following days, Roger split his time between training and planning.
The training was brutal. Ace was a demanding teacher, pushing Roger to his limits and beyond. But progress came—slowly, painfully, but undeniably.
By the end of the first week, Roger could sustain Armament Haki for almost ten seconds at a time. His strikes were stronger, his blade sharper. He wasn't a master—not even close—but he was no longer completely helpless.
"Observation Haki next," Ace said during one of their sessions.
"What's that like?"
Armament is about projecting your will outward. Observation is about extending your senses. Feeling the world around you. Knowing where enemies are before you see them. Sensing their intentions.
"That sounds useful."
It is. But it requires a different kind of focus. Armament is active. Observation is passive. You must learn to quiet your mind and listen.
"Quiet my mind? Have you MET me?"
I have. That is why this will be challenging.
Roger couldn't argue with that.
Observation Haki proved to be even harder than Armament. Roger's mind was constantly racing—thoughts about the ship, about the crew, about the adventure ahead. Quieting it felt like trying to stop a waterfall with his hands.
But he kept at it.
And slowly, gradually, he began to sense... something.
It started as vague impressions. A feeling of presence when someone was nearby. A slight buzz when danger approached. Nothing concrete, but something.
"I think I'm getting it," Roger said after a particularly intense session.
You are beginning. But you have far to go.
"Story of my life."
Meanwhile, construction on the ship had begun.
The shipyard workers moved with impressive efficiency, laying the keel and beginning to shape the hull. Kai oversaw the work personally, consulting with Roger on every detail.
"The angel figurehead," Kai said, showing Roger a carved model. "What do you think?"
Roger examined it carefully. The figure was beautiful and fierce, wings spread wide, face set in determined expression.
It wasn't quite right. But it was close.
"Can you make the wings slightly larger? And the expression—less angry, more... defiant. Like she's facing an impossible challenge and ENJOYING it."
Kai nodded.
"I think I understand."
He went back to work.
Roger watched him go, then turned to find Nami standing beside him.
"You have very specific ideas about this ship," she observed.
"It has to be right. This isn't just any ship. It's going to carry us to the end of the world."
"The end of the world," Nami repeated. "Is that where One Piece is? At the end of the world?"
Roger paused.
He wasn't sure, actually. In the manga, Laugh Tale was the final island of the Grand Line. But was it literally at the "end" of the world? Or was that just metaphorical?
"Honestly," Roger admitted, "I don't know exactly where One Piece is. But I know it's out there. And I know that if we keep sailing, if we keep following our dreams, we'll find it."
Nami studied him for a long moment.
"You really believe that."
"With everything I have."
She smiled—a genuine smile, warm and surprisingly gentle.
"I'm glad I decided to come with you, Roger. I think this is going to be quite an adventure."
On the seventh day, something unexpected happened.
Roger was training on the dock, running through sword forms with Ace, when he felt it.
A presence. Multiple presences. Approaching fast.
He stopped mid-swing, turning toward the sea.
"Something's coming," he said.
Hiro, who had been watching nearby, looked up.
"What? I don't see anything."
But Roger could feel it. His nascent Observation Haki was screaming at him. Danger. Threat. Enemies.
"Get the crew," Roger ordered. "Now."
Hiro didn't argue. He ran.
Minutes later, the crew was assembled on the dock, weapons in hand. Kai and Nami joined them, expressions grim.
"What is it?" Kai asked.
"I don't know. But whatever it is, it's not friendly."
They waited.
And then, on the horizon, shapes appeared.
Ships. Not one or two—a whole fleet. Flying black flags with unfamiliar symbols. Moving in formation, clearly organized, clearly hostile.
"Raiders," Kai said, his voice tight. "We get them sometimes. Pirates who would rather steal ships than build them."
"How many?"
"Counting the fleet?" Kai squinted. "Maybe a dozen ships. Two or three hundred fighters."
Roger's crew looked at each other nervously. There were barely twenty of them.
"We can't fight those odds," Sora said.
"No," Roger agreed. "We can't."
He stepped forward, toward the edge of the dock.
"Roger-sama?" Hiro called. "What are you doing?"
Roger drew Ace.
The blade sang as it cleared the sheath, gleaming in the sunlight. And along its edge, black energy flickered—stronger and more stable than ever before.
"I'm going to introduce myself," Roger said.
And he smiled.
It was the smile. THE smile. The one that said he knew something everyone else didn't, and it was the most hilarious thing in the world.
Are you ready? Ace asked.
"No," Roger admitted. "But when has that ever stopped me?"
He walked toward the approaching fleet.
Alone.
Behind him, his crew watched with a mixture of terror and awe.
"He's insane," Sora whispered.
"He's the Pirate King," Hiro replied.
"Those are not mutually exclusive."
"They really aren't."
The lead ship of the raider fleet slowed as Roger approached.
A massive man stood at its bow—scarred, muscular, with a cruel smile and eyes that had seen too much violence.
"WELL, WELL!" the man called out. "WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? A WELCOMING COMMITTEE?"
"Something like that," Roger replied, his voice carrying across the water. "I'm Roger. I'm told you folks like to steal ships."
"WE TAKE WHAT WE WANT! AND THIS SHIPYARD HAS PLENTY TO OFFER!"
"I disagree."
The raider captain laughed.
"YOU DISAGREE? ONE MAN AGAINST MY FLEET? YOU'RE EITHER BRAVE OR STUPID!"
"Probably both," Roger admitted.
He raised Ace.
The blade was covered in black now—not flickering, but solid. Armament Haki, as strong as he could make it.
"But here's the thing," Roger continued. "This shipyard is building MY ship. MY dream. And I'm not going to let you destroy that."
"AND HOW DO YOU PLAN TO STOP US?"
Roger grinned.
"Like this."
He swung.
And the sea MOVED.
It wasn't a technique. It wasn't Haki. It was something else—something Roger didn't understand, something that came from the connection he had formed with the ocean itself.
A massive wave rose from the calm water, towering above the raider fleet. The ships rocked violently, sailors scrambling for purchase.
"WHAT—WHAT IS THIS?!" the captain screamed.
"THE SEA," Roger called back, his voice booming, "IS ON MY SIDE!"
The wave crashed down.
Not on the ships—Roger didn't want to kill anyone if he could help it. But around them. Spinning them, disorienting them, pushing them back.
Within minutes, the fleet was in complete chaos.
Roger stood on the dock, watching the confusion, and laughed.
"WAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS AMAZING!"
Ace pulsed with something that felt like pride.
That was not Haki. That was the voice of the sea, responding to your will.
"I can do that?!"
Apparently.
Roger laughed even harder.
The raiders retreated.
It took them hours to regroup, and by then, it was clear they had lost the element of surprise. The shipyard's workers had armed themselves. Roger's crew stood ready. And the sea itself seemed to watch, waiting.
In the end, the raider captain made a pragmatic choice.
"THIS ISN'T OVER!" he shouted as his fleet limped away. "WE'LL BE BACK!"
"LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!" Roger shouted back.
Once they were gone, Roger collapsed on the dock.
Every muscle in his body ached. Using whatever power he had just used had drained him completely. But he was smiling.
"Roger-sama!" the crew rushed to his side. "Are you okay?!"
"Never better," Roger managed. "Just tired. Really, REALLY tired."
Kai was staring at him with wide eyes.
"What WAS that? You controlled the sea!"
"I think..." Roger said slowly, "I think the sea is my friend."
"The sea is your FRIEND?!"
"It's a long story."
He closed his eyes and let exhaustion take him.
The last thing he heard was the sound of waves, gentle and welcoming.
Rest, the sea seemed to say. We will watch over you.
And Roger dreamed of ships and treasure and adventures yet to come.
END OF CHAPTER 6