Shiki crossed his twin swords and brought them down in a fierce slash!
Dozens of golden sword waves tore through the sky, pouncing on Roger like a pack of furious lions!
Roger burst out laughing as he drew his blade, Conqueror's Haki crackling around it. With a mighty swing, he roared—
Black-red and golden Haki collided, and the resulting shockwave gouged a massive crater into the sea itself! The Oro Jackson and the Rocks fleet rocked violently in the aftershock!
Ritter, anchoring himself with Conqueror's Haki, shouted in disbelief, "Are these two monsters trying to split the ocean in half?!"
Shiki stepped on air and dove like a meteor. "I can fly, old man! What are you gonna do about that?!"
Roger grinned wide and suddenly leapt up, using Moonwalk to momentarily stay aloft!
"Temporarily floating with Moonwalk is totally doable!"
Ace, wielding both Sakura Ten and Withered Wood, clashed violently with his opponent. Sparks flew like rain!
Right now, Roger was absolutely pounding Shiki—
Let's cut back to Uncle Jabba for a second.
Jabba suddenly changed tactics. Instead of brute force, he used agile footwork to circle to Big Mom's flank, swinging his axe low at the back of her knee!
"Mad Axe: Severing Current!"
Big Mom staggered and dropped to one knee, but immediately countered with a heavy backfist!
"Mama mama~ Cheap trick!"
Jabba barely managed to block with his axe, but still got sent flying a dozen meters, crashing hard into the mast!
Say what you will, Charlotte Linlin was basically a walking iron balloon completely busted.
(You were the one hiding in fog sneak-attacking her, and she's the unfair one?)
"Cough... That monster strength!" Jabba's eyes, however, gleamed with excitement.
From the mist, Ritter shouted, "Jabba! Her footing's weak go for the ankles!"
Jabba smirked. "Like I need you to tell me!"
He suddenly ducked low and surged forward, his twin axes sweeping just above the deck!
"Mad Axe: Earth Dragon!"
Twin arcs of steel flashed. Sparks exploded from Big Mom's ankles as her balance finally gave way!
Jabba seized the chance and leapt high, raising both axes.
Just as his axes were about to fall—
A cannonball-sized fist smashed directly into Big Mom's chest, launching her straight into the sea!
Jabba's strike missed entirely, and he nearly pulled his back. "???!!!"
On a distant warship, Garp stood with arms akimbo, laughing uproariously. "Hahahaha! No need to thank me!"
Jabba, veins popping, roared, "Who the hell asked you to help?!"
"Fist Bone: Meteor Shower!!"
A barrage of blackened cannon-fists rained from the sky, indiscriminately bombarding both fleets!
Roger and Shiki both leapt back, shocked and furious, staring down at the sea—
From the waves, Garp's dog-headed warship tore through, the man himself picking his nose casually at the prow:
"Hahaha! Don't mind me—just here for the fun!"
Shiki roared, "Garp! You looking to die?!"
But Roger suddenly sheathed his sword and waved, laughing. "Forget it, forget it! I've had enough fun today!"
He shouted to Garp, "Hey, old bastard! Next time's my treat we'll drink!"
Garp yelled back, "Like hell I'll drink with you! I came to arrest you!"
(Though his ship was clearly slowing down, with zero intent to pursue.)
Shiki, gritting his teeth, looked at his damaged fleet—
(thanks to Ritter slaughtering all the small fry while the big three were tied up. Kill kill kill kill kill.)
then glanced at the Navy looming in the distance and finally let out a cold snort:
"Roger! Next time we meet, I'll kill you myself!"
He waved his hand, signaling retreat. The Rocks fleet slowly turned away.
Roger cheerfully waved. "Give Rocks my regards!"
Garp cleaned his ear. "Tch, boring." Then turned his ship around as well.
He had no intention of chasing Roger—doing that would just let Rocks pick off the scraps.
This battle really ended with a fizzle: Roger won one-on-one, Jabba didn't score a win, Rayleigh won his duel, and Ritter… took on a hundred and wiped the floor.
Ritter earned MVP—Roger, Jabba, and Rayleigh all rode his coattails. (Bark bark.)
The sea breeze blew gently as the smoke of battle cleared. On the deck of the Oro Jackson, the Roger Pirates lay sprawled about, soaking up the rare post-battle peace.
Ritter lay flat on the deck, drenched in the red mist-evaporation residue. He looked like a sun-dried salted fish.
(That's not his own blood. He's fine. The grunts, not so much.)
Then—he jumped into the sea.
"I'm exhausted... I must've killed hundreds of grunts, and in the end, Garp still stole the spotlight!"
Jabba, chugging booze with a scowl, rolled his eyes. "You've got some nerve! If Garp hadn't interfered, I would've finished Charlotte Linlin myself!"
Ritter contorted his mouth into an upside-down V and mocked him in a nasally voice: "Ooooh I almost beat Big Mom~" Follow current novels on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝕟𝕖𝕥
"Uncle Jabba, no offense, but I threw in everything—corrosion, slashes, everything—and I still couldn't pierce her. You really think your little axe swing could break through?"
He picked his nose as he spoke.
After spending too much time with Roger, who picked his nose without shame, Ritter had picked up the habit. Especially when being sarcastic—it was highly effective.
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses and added calmly, "Jabba, your axe didn't even hit. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Jabba growled, "Rayleigh, are you asking for a fight?"
Roger, laughing heartily, threw his arms around them both. "Kuhahaha! That was one hell of a fight! Garp's still the same—always showing up just in time to mess things up!"
The deck had a massive hole in it.
Ritter looked around. Every crew member was now staring at him.
He sighed in resignation and got up. "Fine, fine. I am the Devil Fruit user here..."
He placed both palms on the deck, and fog began to seep out from his hands, gently knitting the broken planks back together.
Jabba stood nearby, supervising. "Hey, brat, is this 'fog patch' of yours reliable? I don't wanna be sailing along and suddenly fall through the deck!"
Ritter rolled his eyes. "You wanna do it? How do you think we even got here without the Oro Jackson? When it comes to patch jobs, I'm a damn professional."
Jabba: "...Carry on."
Rayleigh came over and patted Ritter's shoulder. "Good work today. I'll make sure you get extra food tonight."
Ritter's eyes lit up. "Really? I want grilled meat!"
Rayleigh smiled. "Sure. I'll just deduct it from the thirty thousand Berries you still owe me."
Ritter: "...I'll just starve."
(That debt came from borrowing money to buy a boat when he was training to wield Black Tide. He's been dodging repayment for over ten years now. He's fully committed to being a deadbeat.)
Night fell. A bonfire crackled on the deck, and the scent of roasted meat filled the air.
Roger, holding a bottle of liquor, stood atop a barrel and shouted, "To today's victory—cheers!"
The crew roared, mugs clinking, ale flying.
Jabba, already red in the face from drinking, threw an arm around Ritter's shoulders. "Brat! You looked damn cool killing all those grunts today!"
Ritter tilted his chin smugly. "Of course! I'm the Crimson Mist, after all!"
Jabba: "But compared to me back in the day—"
Ritter cut him off. "Stop right there! Jabba, every time you get drunk, you start bragging. I'm sick of your stories! And if you bring up the 'useless' line again, I'll end you."
Jabba slammed the ground. "You little punk! Everything I said is true! Show some respect for your elders!"
Rayleigh calmly sipped his drink. "Mm. Like the time you soloed a Sea King and ended up getting chased for three straight days?"
Jabba: "...Rayleigh, shut the hell up!"
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