South Sea, Baterilla Island.
The afterglow of the sunset bathed the tranquil town on this small island, turning the white eaves of a small house, not near the core town, into gold.
Not far away, the waves gently lapped against the shore, making a soothing sound, as if comforting everything on this land.
Roger sat on the steps in front of the small house, his gaze gently looking into the house.
At this moment, Rouge was busy in the kitchen, her back to him, humming a cheerful tune.
The spatula in her hand stirred the ingredients, and the aroma filled the entire house.
She had a few light freckles on her face, and her eyes curved into crescents when she smiled.
"Roger, just a little longer, dinner will be ready soon!" Rouge turned her head and winked at him.
"Also, while you're waiting for dinner, don't secretly drink alcohol again!"
"Haha." Roger's lips curved into a smile, and he nodded: "Okay, I won't drink alcohol."
Yesterday, Rouge told him she was pregnant.
At that moment, Roger's heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something, both surprised and complex.
He had never imagined that after a lifetime of wandering, he would have a "home" at the very end of his life.
However, this happiness was like sand slipping through his fingers; the tighter he held it, the faster it slipped away.
"Cough... cough cough!" Suddenly, a violent cough erupted from deep in his throat.
Roger quickly covered his mouth, his body trembling uncontrollably.
He felt a warm sensation on his palm, and looking down, bright red seeped through his fingers.
"Roger?!" Rouge, in the kitchen, heard the commotion, quickly put down her spatula, and hurried to his side, her eyes full of worry, "Are you okay? Maybe we should go see a doctor!"
"I'm fine!" Roger quickly hid his hand behind his back, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, and forced a reassuring smile.
"Maybe it's because I've been sitting in front of the steps in the sea breeze too much these past few days, my throat is a bit dry."
"Really?" Rouge frowned and reached out to touch his forehead.
"But you don't look so good, do you want to rest first?"
Rouge knew Roger's identity but did not know that Roger had a terminal illness, or rather, only the Roger Pirates knew that Roger was sick!
Of course, Gern also knew, but that was based on his ability to foresee the plot.
"You made me worry." Looking at Rouge's worried expression, Roger gently held her hand and shook his head.
"I want to go out for some fresh air, I'll be back before dinner."
Rouge wanted to say something more, but seeing his determined gaze, she finally just sighed.
"Come back early, the food won't taste good if it gets cold."
"Okay." Roger stood up, ruffled her hair, and gently kissed her forehead.
Then he pushed the door open and walked out of the small house, and the moment the door closed, his smile vanished.
He spread his left hand and looked down; his palm was a bloody red, the bloodstains particularly dazzling in the setting sun.
"It seems..." Roger murmured with a bitter smile, "I might not see you born, huh."
The erosion of the terminal illness was faster than he had anticipated.
Every cough was like Death whispering in his ear, reminding him that his days were numbered.
Roger looked up at the sky; the last ray of sunset was fading, replaced by the deep night.
"Give me one more week..." He whispered, as if pleading with fate, "In a week, I will leave."
He didn't want Rouge to see his weakening appearance, nor did he want her to bear the pain of loss.
He had already decided that in a week, he would quietly depart and surrender himself in his hometown.
As the "Pirate King," his life was destined not to end ordinarily, but he could at least choose how to face the end.
Inside the house, Rouge's voice came: "Roger, the soup is ready!"
Roger collected his thoughts, washed the blood from his hands, and turned to walk towards the small house.
The moment he pushed open the door, warm light and the aroma of food enveloped him; Rouge was holding a bowl of soup, looking at him with a beaming smile.
"Come and try it, I added new spices," she called out.
Roger sat opposite her and took the soup bowl, the steam blurring his vision.
He took a sip, and the delicious taste spread on his tongue, but it couldn't hide the bitterness in his heart.
"Is it good?" Rouge asked expectantly.
"Mm, it's great." Roger smiled and nodded, his gaze gently falling on her still flat abdomen.
"Our child will definitely love your cooking someday."
Rouge's face flushed slightly, and she gently touched her belly: "He will definitely be brave like you."
Roger didn't answer, just quietly looked at her, deeply imprinting this moment of warmth in his heart.
He knew that such days were few, but he would cherish every second.
It was late, and the sea breeze gently brushed against the windows of the small house, making a faint sound.
Roger lay in bed, listening to Rouge's even breathing beside him, his thoughts drifting far away.
He thought of the secret of Laugh Tale, of his companions, and of the fate he was about to face.
"The new era... I'll leave it to you all." He whispered, slowly closing his eyes.
...
A few days later, by the sea on Baterilla Island.
Fishermen returned from their nets, and children chased and played on the beach, as if the outside world's conflicts had nothing to do with this place.
However, on the reefs of the coastline, a figure stood silently.
It was Roger.
At this moment, he was wearing a fishing hat, his hands in his pockets, draped in his familiar red Captain's coat, his gaze looking far out at the horizon.
The sea breeze ruffled his hair and also carried away the usual smile from his lips.
"As expected, you're here, 'Pirate King.'"
A low voice came from behind him, and Roger slightly turned his head to see Gern slowly approaching, his black blade eight desolations hanging diagonally at his waist.
"Yo, Heaven Quake brat." Roger grinned, his tone as relaxed as if he had run into an old friend.
"I thought the man who found me first would be Garp! Hahaha."
Gern stopped beside him, also looking out at the sea: "Vice Admiral Garp is still trying."
"Oh? It seems Garp is getting old too!" Roger raised an eyebrow, then turned to look at Gern, pursing his lips as he said,
"Thank you for this past week.
Thanks to you, this small island hasn't been infiltrated by CP agents, and Rouge hasn't been discovered by them either."
Hearing Roger's words, Gern's expression froze, "You knew I was always here?"
"My Observation Haki isn't bad, Gern."
"I just destroyed the relevant intelligence leaks. I just want to make sure... no one disturbs either you or me." Gern said in a deep voice: "No one disturbs."
"Is that so...?" Roger habitually grinned.
"So, you disbanded your pirate crew and hid here alone..." Gern turned his head, his dark eyes looking directly at him, "Are you waiting for 'that moment'?"
Roger's smile gradually faded.
Waves crashed against the reefs, and the splashing water wet their boots.
After a long silence, Roger finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse: "Gern, do you believe in 'fate'?"
"Haha, fate?" Gern scoffed: "Of course I believe, because my starting point was favored by fate."
"Favored by fate?! Well said!" Roger laughed loudly, but his laughter carried a hint of desolation: "Some things... definitely cannot be changed by human power."
He raised his hand and pointed to the distant horizon: "You see, this ocean has nurtured countless legends and buried countless secrets.
And I am merely a person who 'unveils the prelude.'"
"So..." Gern narrowed his eyes: "Are you really going to do that?"
Roger was a little surprised to hear Gern say that, as if this guy really knew what he was going to do next.
So he didn't answer directly, just said softly: "Gern, what do you think... 'justice' is?"
Seeing Roger not answer but change the subject, Gern also frowned slightly and said: "Justice, huh... Justice is just two words written on a Marine's cloak."
"Then what if one day, you discover that so-called 'justice' is nothing but a lie, what would you do?"
Gern was silent for a moment, then slowly said: "Then I would tear it apart with my own hands and rebuild it."
"Is that so...?" A hint of appreciation flashed in Roger's eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly: "As expected of you."
With that, he turned around, waved his hand with his back to Gern, his tone as relaxed as if he were just saying goodbye to an old friend: "Go back, Marine Heaven Quake brat."
"I'm very grateful for your help this past week, and also for your intervention at Edwal, but..."
His voice deepened, carrying a certain fated certainty.
"The stage that follows... does not yet belong to you."
"Roger, stop pretending." Gern didn't move, his gaze fixed on Roger's back, and he said flatly,
"That aura of twilight on you... it can no longer be hidden."
Roger's footsteps paused slightly.
Seeing Roger stop, Gern continued: "If I'm not mistaken, you should... be running out of time, right?"
His voice was very soft, yet it was like a heavy hammer, striking hard against the silence between them.
"If I hadn't appeared, you would have been planning to take a boat from here today,
to return to your hometown, Loguetown in the East Blue, and surrender yourself..." Gern narrowed his eyes slightly, "Am I right, Roger?"
"Heh heh." Roger was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly: "It seems you know more than I thought..."
He slowly turned around, staring at Gern, no longer forcing that spirited demeanor, but took off his fishing hat and raised his face.
At that moment, Gern's pupils suddenly constricted.
The man in front of him was completely different from the Roger who had attacked him on the sea back then.
At that time, Roger was powerful, confident, with an unextinguishable flame burning in his eyes.
But the one standing before him now was a person in his twilight years, about to "die."
But strangely, this word "die" carried an almost insane obsession, as if even death could not stop his will.
"Heh heh..." Roger's voice was hoarse, "I just want... people in this world with dreams..."
He looked up at the distant horizon, the breaking dawn reflecting in his eyes.
"To seek, to hear, to see... the 'truth' of this world."
"Since that's the case." Gern was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled: "Then I also have a not-so-small dream."
"Your dream?"
"That's right." Gern withdrew his gaze, a nearly friendly smile playing on his lips, his tone as relaxed as if chatting with an old friend.
"Anyway, it's a surrender..."
"Why don't you..." Gern's voice paused for a moment, then he chuckled: "Let me lead you there!"
"Bang!" A powerful gust of sea wind suddenly swept past, and Roger's pupils sharply constricted.
The sea breeze ruffled his hair and also blew away the last pretense between the two of them.
He stared at Gern for a long time, then suddenly chuckled softly, his laughter carrying a certain enlightened relief.
"So..."
"You were waiting for this moment, huh."
"You, you... madman!!!"
