Raising Legends in Roger’s Shadow

It was another beautiful day until a shrill screech tore through the peaceful ocean air.

"Enemy attack! It's Vice Admiral Garp's warship!" the lookout cried out from the crow's nest.

Ritter didn't even bother opening his eyes. With a casual wave of his hand, a haze of blood-red mist rose automatically and formed a thin screen at the rear of the ship.

Hiss—

The special cannonball, personally thrown by Garp, began to corrode at a visible speed the moment it touched the blood mist. Its metal casing disintegrated into rust before the gunpowder could ignite, turning to powder and drifting harmlessly over the sea.

"Hahaha! Garp, sashi buri da na!" Jaba laughed heartily from the ship's railing.

On the distant warship, Garp didn't seem to care much either. "You damn brat!"

And so the Oro Jackson sped forward, with Garp's warship hot on its tail. Eventually, they made landfall on an island.

Garp's ship docked shortly after, and Garp immediately used Soru, charging straight at Roger.

Lott was a rookie who had just boarded Garp's ship. The rifle in his hands trembled. He had always deeply admired Vice Admiral Garp, and this was his first voyage under the famed hero. He wanted to contribute desperately.

The moment he set foot on the island, he instinctively rushed after Garp, only to be pulled back by a veteran marine. Lott was furious. Garp was leading the charge how could they, his fellow marines, hang back like cowards? He felt ashamed to be among them.

The old soldier simply shook his head and motioned with his chin toward the other side.

Across the battlefield, members of the Roger Pirates were gathered casually.

"Alright, betting's open. How long will the captain last this time?" one asked.

"I'm putting down three days."

"Minimum half a month," said another.

Ritter, noticing the marines looking their way, casually carried the betting tray over to them.

"You bastards!" Lott was livid. "Are you mocking the Navy?! You're insulting everything justice stands for!"

"Five hundred Berries on three days."

"I'll put down a thousand it's gonna be five."

Lott stared at the veterans who had taken care of him these past few days, utterly bewildered.

"These guys killed marines! How can you be joking around with them?!"

The older marine glanced at him and said quietly, "Sometimes, it's easier to keep going if you don't believe your own lies."

"Regular soldiers don't know better, sure but you're an elite marine. Haven't you noticed that the ones the Roger Pirates actually kill are always scum?"

He sighed, then added, "And do you really think you can end a battle that even Vice Admiral Garp hasn't finished?"

He patted Lott's shoulder. "Look, none of the Roger Pirates are moving either. This fight's not about us. When Garp finally beats Roger, that's when we act."

This was the unspoken agreement between Roger and Garp. Otherwise, with how often Garp pursued the Oro Jackson, the casualties on both sides would've long become unacceptable. The Roger Pirates weren't some bloodthirsty crew of tyrants it just wasn't worth it.

Meanwhile, Jaba and Bogard exchanged glances, then quietly disappeared into the forest.

Ritter preferred to call them a fated pair. In the end, Garp basically became Roger's dad how could that not make you laugh?

On the sun-bleached sand of the deserted island, the air shimmered in the midday heat. Garp rolled his shoulders, the white cape of justice snapping in the sea breeze.

"This time won't be as easy as last," he said, eyes locked on Roger.

Roger drew Ace and grinned. "Ku ha ha ha! You say that every time!"

The instant his voice dropped, both vanished.

Boom!

A deafening explosion cracked the air as a crater thirty meters wide burst open in the sand. Garp's fist had collided with Roger's blade, sending streaks of black and red Conqueror's Haki crackling in all directions. The closest palm trees carbonized instantly.

Ritter raised an arm to block the flying debris. Squinting through the dust, he saw the ground beneath their feet spiderwebbing with cracks.

"Too slow!" Garp abruptly changed tactics, swinging his left fist with a piercing whoosh toward Roger's gut. Roger twisted, evading the blow. His blade scraped along Garp's arm, throwing up a spray of sparks.

Their movements were almost invisible only the ceaseless clang of clashing metal betrayed the speed of their exchange.

The shoreline began to shift with each blow. Garp smashed a heavy punch into the sea, sending a colossal wave flying. Infused with Haki, the wave broke into hundreds of deadly droplets.

Roger laughed and swung his blade. One clean slash split the water screen in two, the shockwave carving a hundred-meter-long trench into the distant sea.

"Meteor Fist Barrage!" Garp soared into the air, fists pumping faster than the eye could follow. Each punch left a flaming trail, turning the entire beach into a sea of fire.

Roger danced between the blazing strikes, his blade weaving a net of steel.

Watching from the sidelines, Elio frowned. "He's a lot more serious than last time."

Ritter, meanwhile, counted fish stunned by the shockwaves, floating belly-up in the surf. "Seventy-three... That should be enough for dinner."

Suddenly, silence fell over the battlefield.

Garp stood atop a boulder, ripping off his tattered shirt to reveal a torso crisscrossed with old scars. Roger wasn't faring much better, but his iconic straw hat remained perched on his head, and his grin had only grown wider.

The two men stared at each other from fifty meters apart. The air itself seemed to freeze.

"Ready to get serious?" Roger tilted his head.

"No kidding," Garp growled, grinning back.

And then, the entire island shook.

"Monsters... both of them."

A long time passed...

By the time the setting sun dyed the ocean red, the two figures finally separated. Garp's left eye was swollen shut; Roger's right eye sported a spectacular bruise.

"Call it a draw?" Roger asked, breathing hard.

"In your dreams," Garp spat out blood. "I could go three more days."

Boom—

Even as the aftershocks of their duel rippled across the island, a completely different scene was unfolding on the other side of the coast.

Jaba and Bogard had circled the battlefield and returned to the beach, carrying several large beasts over their shoulders.

"Let the feast begin!"

Marines and pirates alike now sat together around bonfires, laughter and the scent of grilled meat filling the air.

"Hey, marine brother, this one's ready. Try it," Jaba grinned, handing a skewer of grilled fish to a nearby sailor.

"Th-thanks!" the young marine accepted it and took a bite. His eyes lit up instantly. "Oishii!"

"Hehe, that's our ship's secret recipe! You guys definitely don't have this!" Jaba shook a jar of special seasoning with pride.

Not far away, Rayleigh and a Navy strategist sat across from each other on a smooth stone slab, playing chess. The pieces were held in place by their Haki, unmoving even in the strong sea breeze.

"Checkmate," Rayleigh said, pushing up his glasses with a smirk.

The marine strategist broke into a cold sweat. "Wait—that move doesn't count! I didn't see it!"

Rayleigh chuckled. "Fine. You can take it back."

"Then I'll go here."

"Checkmate. That'll be a hundred Berries, please."

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