Three months.
Three months of training, of waiting, of watching the Oro Jackson take shape piece by piece.
Roger had never been a patient man—not in his old life, not in this one. But watching his ship being born was different. Every plank, every nail, every careful stroke of the craftsmen's tools felt like a promise being fulfilled.
And during those three months, Roger grew stronger.
His Armament Haki had become reliable. He could coat Ace in black energy at will, sustaining it for minutes at a time. His strikes could cut through steel, shatter stone, and leave marks on things that shouldn't be markable.
His Observation Haki was developing too. He could sense presences within a hundred-meter radius, feel intentions before they became actions, and occasionally—just occasionally—glimpse a half-second into the future.
But more importantly, his connection with the sea had deepened.
The ocean SPOKE to him now. Not in words, exactly, but in feelings and impressions. It warned him of storms before they appeared. It guided him toward safe harbors. It played with him, sometimes, sending playful waves to splash his face when he got too serious.
"You're becoming something strange," Nami observed one afternoon, watching Roger meditate on the dock. "Something that shouldn't exist."
"I've been something strange since I woke up with this mustache," Roger replied without opening his eyes.
"I mean it. The sea doesn't respond to people like this. Not even to fishmen or mermaids. We're PART of the ocean, and it doesn't talk to us the way it talks to you."
Roger opened his eyes.
"What do you think it means?"
Nami was quiet for a long moment.
"I think," she said slowly, "that you're connected to something old. Something that existed before the ninja villages, before the shinobi system, before the world became what it is now."
"Something like what?"
"I don't know. But the stories my grandmother told me—stories passed down through generations of merfolk—they spoke of a time when the sea was happy. When someone sailed it who made the waves themselves laugh."
Roger felt a chill run down his spine.
"Laugh?"
"That's what the stories said. A laughing man who brought joy wherever he went. Who freed the oppressed and challenged the powerful. Who made even the ocean dance with delight."
She looked at Roger with those impossibly deep eyes.
"They called him the Sun God. Nika."
That night, Roger sat alone with Ace.
The sword was warm in his hands, pulsing with something that felt like anticipation.
"You heard what Nami said," Roger murmured. "About Nika."
I heard.
"Is that... is that what I am? Some kind of reincarnation of a god?"
Ace was silent for a long moment.
I do not know what you are. I know what Roger was—a man of extraordinary will and freedom. I know what Nika was—a legend of liberation and joy. Whether they are connected, whether YOU are connected to either or both... that is beyond my understanding.
"But something's happening to me. Something beyond just... being good at speeches."
Yes. Something is awakening within you. I have felt it growing since we entered the Grand Line. A power that does not come from Haki or training or anything I can teach.
"What is it?"
I do not know. But I believe we will find out soon.
Roger stared at the sword.
"That's not ominous at all."
I did not say it would be comfortable. I said it would happen.
"Great. Thanks for the reassurance."
Ace pulsed with what might have been amusement.
In the meantime, there is something I have been waiting to show you. Something I held back until you were ready.
Roger's interest sharpened.
"What?"
Techniques. The original Roger's ultimate attacks. Moves that combined Haki, swordsmanship, and sheer will into something transcendent.
"Why didn't you show me these before?"
Because they would have killed you. Your body was not strong enough, your Haki not developed enough, to survive channeling that much power. But now... now you might be ready.
Roger gripped Ace tighter.
"Show me."
The vision hit him like a tidal wave.
Roger gasped as his consciousness was pulled into memory—not his memory, but Ace's. The sword's recollection of battles fought and won, of techniques that had shaken the world.
He saw the original Roger on a battlefield.
Enemies surrounded him—hundreds of them, maybe thousands. An army assembled to destroy the Pirate King once and for all.
Roger was smiling.
He raised his sword—Ace, gleaming in the sunlight—and spoke.
"DIVINE DEPARTURE."
He swung.
And the world BROKE.
A crescent wave of pure Haki erupted from the blade, expanding outward with impossible speed. It wasn't just cutting—it was ERASING. Everything in its path simply ceased to exist. Enemies. Terrain. Air itself.
When the attack faded, there was nothing left but a smoking canyon where an army had stood.
The vision shifted.
Now Roger was on the deck of the Oro Jackson, facing a Sea King that made the one Roger had met look like a minnow. The creature was massive beyond comprehension, a living mountain of scales and teeth.
Roger didn't look worried.
He raised Ace above his head, both hands on the handle. Energy gathered around the blade—not just black Haki, but something else. Something that seemed to pull at the very fabric of reality.
"GALAXY IMPACT."
He swung downward.
And the sky FELL.
A shockwave descended from above—not from Roger's sword, but from the HEAVENS themselves. As if the universe had decided to assist, adding its weight to the blow.
The Sea King was flattened. The ocean parted. The clouds themselves scattered.
The vision faded.
Roger found himself back on the dock, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat.
"Holy SHIT," he managed.
Those are the techniques, Ace said. Divine Departure—a horizontal slash that releases your Haki as a cutting wave. Galaxy Impact—a vertical strike that draws power from the sky itself.
"I can't do those. There's no way I can do those."
Not yet. Your Haki is still too weak. But you have seen them now. You know what to aim for.
Roger stared at the sword.
"The original Roger was a MONSTER."
He was free. He was joyful. He was unrestrained. And his power reflected that.
"And you think I can reach that level?"
Ace pulsed warmly.
I think you can surpass it.
One week later, the Oro Jackson was complete.
Roger stood on the dock, staring at his ship with tears streaming down his face.
It was BEAUTIFUL.
The hull was sleek and black, designed for speed without sacrificing stability. The sails were pristine white, already catching the wind. The angel figurehead jutted from the bow, wings spread wide, face set in an expression of defiant joy.
And on the stern, in gold letters, was the name: ORO JACKSON.
"She's ready," Kai said, standing beside Roger. "Took every bit of skill we had, but she's ready."
"She's perfect," Roger whispered.
He walked up the gangplank slowly, savoring every step. The deck was smooth beneath his feet. The railing was solid under his hands. Everything was exactly as he had imagined—exactly as Ace had shown him.
"EVERYONE!" Roger shouted. "GET ABOARD! WE'RE SETTING SAIL!"
The crew scrambled to comply. Hiro and Sora and all the others who had followed him from the beginning. Kai and Nami, the newest additions. Together, they gathered on the deck of the Oro Jackson.
THEIR ship.
"This is it," Roger said, turning to face them. "This is the ship that's going to carry us to One Piece. The ship that's going to conquer the Grand Line. The ship that's going to prove to the world that dreams are worth chasing."
He drew Ace, raising the blade to the sky.
"ARE YOU READY?!"
"YES, CAPTAIN!"
"THEN LET'S SET SAIL!"
The anchor rose. The sails unfurled. And slowly, majestically, the Oro Jackson began to move.
Roger stood at the bow, the wind in his face, and laughed.
Behind him, the shipyard workers cheered. Some of them were crying. They had built many ships over the years, but this one... this one was special.
Kai watched from the deck, grinning broadly.
"She handles like a dream," he reported. "Responsive, fast, stable. This might be our best work ever."
"It IS your best work," Roger said. "And it's going to do incredible things."
Nami joined them at the bow, her hair whipping in the wind.
"Where to now, Captain?"
Roger considered the question.
They had the ship. They had the crew. They had the supplies and the coating materials they had gathered during the waiting period.
There was only one answer.
"The Grand Line," Roger said. "We're going to sail it from end to end. We're going to find One Piece. And we're going to have the greatest adventure the world has ever seen."
"That's a lot of promises," Nami observed.
"I'm good at keeping promises."
"You're also good at making impossible things happen."
Roger grinned.
"That too."
The first week on the Oro Jackson was pure joy.
The ship moved through the Grand Line like she was born for it—which, in a sense, she was. Storms that should have been deadly became manageable. Currents that should have dragged them off course seemed to cooperate. Even the Sea Kings they encountered gave them a wide berth, as if recognizing a kindred spirit.
Roger trained every day, pushing himself harder than ever.
The visions Ace had shown him haunted him. Divine Departure. Galaxy Impact. Techniques of unimaginable power, wielded by a man who had no limits.
He wanted that power. Not for its own sake, but for what it represented. Freedom. Strength. The ability to protect his crew and achieve his dreams.
"Again," Ace instructed during one of their sessions.
Roger swung, pouring every ounce of Haki he had into the blade.
A crescent of black energy shot from Ace's edge—much smaller than what he had seen in the vision, but real. It traveled about twenty feet before dissipating.
"Better," Ace acknowledged. "But still far from Divine Departure."
"How much further?"
The original Roger's Divine Departure could cut through mountains. Yours can cut through... perhaps a large rock.
"So I'm about one percent of the way there."
Generous estimate.
Roger laughed despite himself.
"At least I'm making progress."
You are. Faster than I expected, actually. Your growth rate is... unusual.
"Unusual how?"
Ace was quiet for a moment.
When I was wielded by the original Roger, his power grew steadily. Predictably. He was a prodigy, but he followed normal patterns of development.
You do not.
Roger frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Your Haki grows in bursts. Sometimes it plateaus for days. Then suddenly it jumps forward by weeks' worth of progress. It is as if something is... feeding you power. Accelerating your growth during specific moments.
"Like what moments?"
Moments of joy. Of freedom. Of laughter.
Roger stared at the sword.
"You're saying I get stronger when I'm happy?"
I am saying that something within you responds to joy. Uses it as fuel. And that something is growing.
A chill ran down Roger's spine.
Nika. The Sun God. The legend of liberation and joy.
Was that what was happening to him? Was some ancient power awakening inside him, drawn out by laughter and freedom?
"Is that... dangerous?"
I do not know. I only know that you are becoming something new. Something that has not existed for a very long time.
Roger didn't know how to respond to that.
So he did what he always did when faced with impossible situations.
He laughed.
And deep within him, something stirred.
Something smiled.
The awakening happened on a Tuesday.
Not that Roger knew it was Tuesday. The Grand Line didn't really have normal days. But if it had been a normal world with a normal calendar, it would have been a Tuesday.
They were sailing through a particularly strange stretch of ocean—water that glowed faintly blue, lit from below by something Roger couldn't identify. The sky above was clear, filled with stars that seemed brighter than they should be.
It was beautiful. Peaceful. Perfect.
Roger stood at the bow, enjoying the view.
"You know," he said to no one in particular, "I never thought I'd be here. Any of this. Sailing a legendary ship through an impossible sea, chasing a treasure that might not exist."
He laughed softly.
"In my old life, I was nobody. A convenience store worker. A guy who watched anime and dreamed about adventure but never did anything about it."
He looked down at his hands—Roger's hands, now, not Bob's.
"And now I'm the Pirate King. Or at least, people call me that. I'm inspiring revolutions. I'm changing the world. Just by being myself."
Ace pulsed warmly at his hip.
You are more than you believe yourself to be. You always were.
"Maybe. Or maybe the universe just has a weird sense of humor."
Perhaps both are true.
Roger grinned.
"Yeah. Probably both."
He looked up at the stars.
"Whatever happens next, I don't have any regrets. This life—this second chance—it's been everything I could have asked for and more."
He spread his arms wide, embracing the night.
"THANK YOU!" he shouted to the sky. "THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!"
And the universe responded.
It started as a feeling. A warmth in his chest, similar to what Ace provided but deeper. More fundamental. Like a fire being lit in the very core of his being.
Roger gasped.
The warmth spread outward—through his arms, his legs, his head. Every cell in his body seemed to vibrate with energy he had never felt before.
"What—what's happening?!"
Something is awakening, Ace said, and for the first time, the sword sounded uncertain. Something ancient. Something that has been waiting.
Roger fell to his knees.
The warmth became heat. The heat became fire. And the fire became JOY.
Pure, undiluted joy. The kind of happiness that couldn't be contained, couldn't be suppressed, couldn't be anything but expressed.
Roger started laughing.
Not his normal laugh—something bigger, brighter, more powerful. A laugh that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of reality.
And as he laughed, he SAW.
The vision was unlike anything he had experienced before.
He was standing in a void—endless white space stretching in every direction. No up, no down, no reference points at all.
But he wasn't alone.
Before him stood a figure.
It was humanoid, but barely. The proportions were wrong—too stretched, too flexible, like someone had drawn a person and then decided that anatomy was optional. The skin was pale, almost white, and seemed to shift and flow like liquid.
But the face was what caught Roger's attention.
It was smiling.
The widest, most genuine, most purely JOYFUL smile Roger had ever seen. A smile that seemed to say that everything was okay, that nothing could ever be truly wrong, that the universe itself was one big hilarious joke.
"Nika," Roger whispered.
The figure's smile widened.
YOU KNOW MY NAME.
The voice didn't come from the figure's mouth. It came from everywhere and nowhere, filling the void with warmth and light.
"I've heard stories. About the Sun God. The liberator."
STORIES ARE ALL THAT REMAIN. STORIES AND HOPE.
"Are you... are you inside me?"
I AM YOU. I AM NOT YOU. I AM THE WILL THAT TRANSCENDS. THE JOY THAT CANNOT BE CONTAINED. THE FREEDOM THAT CANNOT BE BOUND.
"I don't understand."
UNDERSTANDING IS NOT REQUIRED. ONLY FEELING.
Nika—if that's what this being was—spread its arms wide.
YOU CARRY MY SPIRIT. NOT BY ACCIDENT. NOT BY DESIGN. BY CHOICE.
"Whose choice?"
YOURS. MINE. THE UNIVERSE'S. ALL CHOICES ARE ONE WHEN FREEDOM IS THE GOAL.
Roger's head was spinning.
"But why ME? I'm not special. I was just a regular guy who died and got reincarnated into an anime world. I don't have any great destiny."
YOU CHOSE TO LAUGH, Nika said. WHEN FACED WITH DEATH, YOU CHOSE JOY. WHEN FACED WITH IMPOSSIBILITY, YOU CHOSE DREAMS. WHEN FACED WITH OPPRESSION, YOU CHOSE FREEDOM. THOSE CHOICES MADE YOU SPECIAL.
"So you're saying... I earned this? Whatever 'this' is?"
I AM SAYING THAT YOU ARE WORTHY. THAT YOUR SPIRIT RESONATES WITH MINE. THAT WHEN YOU LAUGH, I LAUGH. WHEN YOU DREAM, I DREAM. WHEN YOU ARE FREE, I AM FREE.
Nika stepped closer—or seemed to, though distance was meaningless in this place.
I HAVE WAITED A LONG TIME FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU. SOMEONE WHO COULD CARRY THE WILL OF JOY BACK INTO THE WORLD. THE LAST ONE—THE MAN WHOSE BODY YOU WEAR—HE CAME CLOSE. BUT HIS TIME WAS SHORT, AND HE CHOSE TO PASS THE TORCH RATHER THAN KEEP IT.
"The original Roger," Roger realized. "He was connected to you too."
IN A DIFFERENT WAY. HE KNEW OF ME. HE HONORED ME. BUT HE WAS NOT MY VESSEL. HE WAS MY FRIEND.
"And I'm supposed to be your... vessel?"
ONLY IF YOU CHOOSE. I DO NOT FORCE. I CANNOT FORCE. FREEDOM MEANS NOTHING IF IT IS COMPELLED.
Nika's smile softened, becoming something almost gentle.
YOU MAY REJECT ME. LIVE YOUR LIFE AS YOU ARE. YOU WILL STILL BE REMARKABLE. YOU WILL STILL CHANGE THE WORLD. MY POWER IS NOT REQUIRED FOR YOUR DREAMS.
"But if I accept?"
THEN WE BECOME ONE. YOUR JOY BECOMES MY POWER. MY POWER BECOMES YOUR STRENGTH. TOGETHER, WE CAN SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS OF REALITY. LIBERATE THE OPPRESSED. BRING LAUGHTER TO A WORLD DROWNING IN CHAINS.
Roger considered.
It was a lot to take in. A god—or something like a god—was offering to merge with him. To give him power beyond imagination. To make him into something more than human.
There should be fear. Hesitation. Careful deliberation.
But all Roger felt was excitement.
"What's the catch?" he asked.
Nika laughed. It was the most beautiful sound Roger had ever heard—pure joy given voice, echoing through the void like music.
THE CATCH IS THAT YOU MUST NEVER STOP LAUGHING. NEVER STOP DREAMING. NEVER STOP BEING FREE. MY POWER IS FUELED BY JOY. IF YOU BECOME BITTER, BROKEN, BOUND... IT WILL FADE. AND SO WILL I.
"So I have to stay happy?"
YOU HAVE TO STAY YOU.
Roger grinned.
"That I can do."
He extended his hand.
"Let's do this."
Nika's smile widened impossibly, becoming so bright it filled the entire void.
THEN LET US SHAKE THE WORLD.
Their hands met.
And everything EXPLODED.
On the deck of the Oro Jackson, the crew watched in horror as their captain was consumed by light.
"ROGER-SAMA!" Hiro screamed.
But Roger couldn't hear them.
He was somewhere else. Everywhere else. The light was filling him, changing him, awakening something that had slept for centuries.
It didn't hurt. It felt like coming home.
Like becoming who he was always meant to be.
And then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped.
Roger opened his eyes.
The crew was staring at him. Some were crying. Some were frozen in shock. Kai had half-drawn his weapon, unsure what was happening.
"I'm okay," Roger said.
His voice was different. Fuller. Richer. Like there were harmonics layered beneath the words.
"What... what HAPPENED?!" Sora demanded.
Roger looked down at his hands.
They looked the same. Mostly. But there was something beneath the surface now—a sense of potential, of power waiting to be unleashed.
"I met someone," Roger said slowly. "Someone who's been waiting a long time. And we came to an agreement."
He looked up at his crew and smiled.
It was the smile. THE smile. But BIGGER now. Brighter. A smile that seemed to illuminate the entire deck, that made the stars themselves seem dim by comparison.
"I know what I am now," Roger said. "I know why the sea responds to me. Why the universe seems to laugh along with me."
He drew Ace.
The blade gleamed—and for just a moment, it seemed to glow with an inner light. Not the black of Haki, but something else. Something golden.
"I am the inheritor of the Sun God's will," Roger declared. "The vessel of Nika. The embodiment of joy and freedom."
He raised the sword high.
"AND I AM GOING TO LIBERATE THIS WORLD!"
His crew stared at him for a long moment.
Then Hiro started laughing.
Then Sora.
Then Kai and Nami and everyone else.
They didn't fully understand what had happened. They didn't know what Nika was or what Roger had become. But they knew their captain. They knew his smile. They knew that whatever he had found, it was going to make their adventure even more incredible.
"FOR ROGER-SAMA!" Hiro shouted.
"FOR THE PIRATE KING!"
"FOR ONE PIECE!"
Roger laughed along with them.
And somewhere, in a place that was both within him and beyond the universe itself, Nika laughed too.
The universe felt it.
Not every being, not every consciousness. But those who were attuned to the deeper rhythms of reality sensed that something had changed.
In Konoha, Sarutobi Hiruzen suddenly looked up from his paperwork, a chill running down his spine.
In a hidden base somewhere in the world, a man wrapped in bandages paused in his plotting, feeling something he couldn't identify.
In the depths of the ocean, Sea Kings sang songs of celebration, welcoming back a presence they had almost forgotten.
In the sky, birds changed their flight patterns, drawn toward some distant point they couldn't explain.
And everywhere—in every country, on every island, in every heart that had ever dared to dream—something stirred.
Hope.
Pure, undiluted hope.
The feeling that maybe, just maybe, things were about to get better.
That someone was coming who would shake the foundations of the world.
Who would challenge the oppressors.
Who would bring freedom to the bound.
Who would make the universe itself laugh.
The Sun God had returned.
And he was just getting started.
On the Oro Jackson, Roger was still standing at the bow, feeling the changes within him settle.
Ace pulsed at his hip.
How do you feel?
Roger considered the question carefully.
"Different," he said. "But also... more myself than ever. Like I finally found a part of me that was always missing."
That is the nature of awakening. Not becoming something new, but becoming more fully what you always were.
"Is this going to change how we work together? You and me?"
I do not know. But I suspect... we are going to be even more formidable than before.
Roger grinned.
"Let's test that theory."
He raised Ace.
The techniques Ace had shown him—Divine Departure, Galaxy Impact—they had seemed impossible before. Mountains of power he could never climb.
But now...
Roger focused.
He felt the Haki within him—stronger now, amplified by whatever Nika had given him. He felt the joy bubbling up from his core, fueling his power like wood on a fire. He felt the universe itself watching, waiting, eager to see what he would do.
He swung.
"DIVINE DEPARTURE!"
The crescent of energy that erupted from Ace's edge was not the weak imitation he had produced before.
It was a WAVE. A tsunami of cutting power that roared across the ocean, splitting the water in its path, continuing for hundreds of meters before finally dissipating.
The crew stood in stunned silence.
Roger stared at the destruction he had wrought.
"Holy shit," he whispered.
That, Ace said, was approximately thirty percent of the original Roger's Divine Departure.
"THIRTY PERCENT?!"
You have much room to grow. But the foundation is there now. The potential is unlocked.
Roger started laughing again.
"THIRTY PERCENT! AND IT FELT EASY! HOW STRONG WAS HE?!"
The strongest. Until now.
"Until now?"
You have something he did not. You have Nika. Fully awakened, fully merged. With time and training, you may surpass him entirely.
Roger let that sink in.
The Pirate King. The original Gol D. Roger. One of the most powerful beings in One Piece history.
And Roger—Bob from the convenience store—might SURPASS him.
"This is the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened," Roger said.
Agreed.
"I love it."
Agreed.
Roger resheathed Ace and turned to his crew.
"Alright, everyone! Show's over! We've got an ocean to conquer and a treasure to find!"
The crew snapped out of their shock and scrambled to their positions.
Hiro approached Roger, eyes still wide with amazement.
"Roger-sama... what you just did..."
"Was just the beginning," Roger said. "Stick with me, Hiro. You're going to see things that nobody has ever seen before."
"I believe you." Hiro paused. "I've believed you since the beginning. Even when it seemed crazy."
Roger clapped him on the shoulder.
"That's what nakama do. We believe in each other, even when it's crazy. ESPECIALLY when it's crazy."
Hiro nodded firmly.
"For One Piece."
"For One Piece," Roger agreed.
The Oro Jackson sailed on, cutting through the Grand Line with newfound confidence.
Above them, the stars seemed to twinkle with amusement.
Beside them, the ocean hummed with joy.
Within Roger, Nika smiled.
And somewhere, somehow, the universe laughed.
Not at them.
WITH them.
Because finally, after so long, someone was making it fun again.
Someone was bringing the light back.
Someone was reminding reality itself that existence didn't have to be suffering and struggle and chains.
It could be adventure.
It could be dreams.
It could be JOY.
Roger didn't know exactly what lay ahead. He didn't know where One Piece was, or if it even existed in this world. He didn't know what challenges awaited him, what enemies he would face, what sacrifices he would have to make.
But he knew one thing with absolute certainty.
He was going to enjoy every moment of it.
And he was going to make sure everyone else enjoyed it too.
Because that was what the Pirate King did.
That was what the Sun God did.
That was what ROGER did.
And he was just getting started.
END OF CHAPTER 7