Echoes of Fate

Sabaody Archipelago - Shakky's Rip-off Bar - Late Night

On the bar counter, the amber-colored liquor swayed slowly under the lights.

The wind outside blew through the crack in the door, causing the wind chimes hanging at the entrance to tinkle softly.

Shakky skillfully wiped the cups, glancing towards the door every now and then.

Rayleigh sat quietly beside her, his silver hair bathed in a soft glow from the lamplight, but the whiskey in his hand remained untouched.

His gaze was calm, as if he were waiting for something.

At that very moment--

"Squeak--"

The tavern's wooden door was slowly pushed open, and the night breeze rushed in, bringing with it a salty, briny smell of the sea.

A tall man stood in the doorway, his black cloak billowing in the wind, his empty left sleeve swaying gently.

Rayleigh's gaze sharpened. "... It's actually true." His voice was low as he stared at the empty sleeve.

"Hey, Mr. Rayleigh, Sister Shakky."

Shanks strode in, his smile as relaxed as ever, but his eyes betrayed weariness and unspoken emotions.

He sat down at the bar, took the drink Shakky handed him, and downed it in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"It's so late at night, why aren't you causing trouble in the New World? What are you doing in the East Blue? And you even put your hand on mine." Shakky's tone was teasing, but her eyes were sharp as knives.

Shanks put down his glass, his eyes half-closed, and smiled enigmatically, "It's just... a decision."

Rayleigh frowned. "In a place like the East Blue, with your strength, no one could possibly hurt you. What exactly happened?"

Shanks chuckled and shrugged, his tone nonchalant. "Getting old, my reactions are a bit slower."

"Don't try to fool me!" Rayleigh's gaze remained unwavering.

Shanks smiled without saying a word, simply swirling his wine glass gently; his gaze suddenly became somewhat distant.

A brief silence fell over the tavern.

Shanks suddenly spoke up, "Mr. Rayleigh, do you know why I often go to the East Blue?"

Rayleigh raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it because it's quiet there?"

Shanks shook his head, his expression gradually becoming serious. "It's a 'feeling'."

"Feel?"

"Hmm." Shanks tapped his fingertips lightly on the rim of his glass. "I always felt that I might run into certain people there."

Rayleigh's gaze sharpened. "Someone?"

Shanks nodded, his voice low. "But strangely, this feeling has suddenly disappeared in recent years."

Rayleigh frowned deeply upon hearing this. As a fellow user of Conqueror's Haki and possessing powerful Observation Haki, Rayleigh knew that the senses of the strong were usually very accurate.

Shanks continued, "The 'New Era' that Captain Roger spoke of is about to arrive, but I feel that an invisible giant hand is secretly stirring up the era that the captain is risking his life to usher in."

Shakky put down her wine glass, her eyes sharp. "You mean, someone deliberately interfered?"

Shanks didn't answer directly, but his gaze deepened. "Until recently, when I returned to the East Blue, that feeling resurfaced."

"I encountered a little devil in the East Blue."

"Completely the opposite of the captain when he was young!"

Rayleigh's expression changed slightly, his brows furrowing slowly. "What's so special about being different?"

"But he possessed the same resilience as the captain, and was very kind; even when in danger himself, he never forgot to care for and protect others."

"His eyes and smile, that unwavering spirit in the face of oppression, reminded me of that legend..."

Shanks sighed and leaned back in his chair, saying softly, "So, I took a gamble."

"With your arm?" Shakky raised an eyebrow. "Would someone like you risk an arm just to gamble on a kid?"

Shanks shook his head. "It's not about 'getting in,' it's about 'getting out.'"

A brief silence fell over the bar.

Shakky leaned against the bar, a playful smile on her lips, "So, the kid you mentioned, is he 'the One Who Waits'?"

Upon hearing this, Shanks finally smiled, a smile like a glimmer of light on the sea, gently stirring a certain tenderness deep within his heart.

"Who knows? I don't know why I chose him," he said. "It was like Guidance of Fate."

"Just like the feeling I got when Captain Roger stood in front of me back then, he didn't say anything, but it was as if he could ignite the entire sea."

Rayleigh stared at him for a long time, then slowly raised the glass in his hand.

"Respect for Roger's will."

Shanks clinked glasses with him, and the two exchanged a smile.

"A salute to the New Era."

The clinking of glasses, crisp as the ringing of swords, echoed through the sleepless tavern in the dead of night.

Satsuruso Kingdom - Dawn Breaks

A thin mist lingered, and the morning sun shone through the clouds onto the sea, making the entire Poseidon look like a dream.

At the top of the clock tower, Roy stood with his hands behind his back, letting the morning breeze flutter his Marine Cap and cloak.

From above, the city appears almost unrealistically tranquil.

"Observation Haki covered the entire island; nothing seemed amiss."

"There were no traces of battle, no fluctuations of Haki, and even disputes among ordinary people were scarce."

He squinted, his gaze sweeping across the market, streets, castle, and Harbor. "Shanks really lose his arm here? This place is eerily quiet."

Harbor Tavern - Morning

As you push open the door, the aroma of wine and wood fills the air.

The owner, a middle-aged man nearing fifty, was skillfully wiping the wine glasses.

Roy showed a folded photo and placed it on the bar.

"The Red Hair Pirates? I don't recall them."

He raised an eyebrow, but quickly smiled, "But I remember this person. He came to buy wine with a few people before, and he was very generous, ordering a whole cabinet of vintage wines!"

Roy frowned slightly and gently pushed a few gold coins over. "Have they done anything unusual?"

"Special?" The shopkeeper pondered, holding the gold coin. "Singing, drinking, and paying generously. They left around noon, without even leaving an empty bottle."

"That's all?"

"These days, it's rare to see such well-behaved 'Pirates'."

Royal Palace Archives

The floor was paved with snow-white marble, and the kingdom's registrars quietly flipped through the files.

Roy, dressed in his naval uniform, attracted considerable attention, but everyone became respectful after he revealed his Marine Headquarters Rear Admiral's medals.

"The entry records of the Red Hair Pirates that you mentioned are here."

The officer on duty opened a thick registration book. "Not only did they register everyone by their real names, but their declared supply lists were also completely compliant."

"I had no idea they were Pirates until you told me; they even registered obediently."

Roy glanced around: drinks, nautical medicine, repair materials, dry rations...

Roy frowned slightly and tapped the table with his fingertips.

At dusk, the setting sun casts its last rays across the sky, and the waves gently lap against the Reef.

Roy stood at the old dock where the Red Hair Pirates had once moored, subtly releasing his Observation Haki to meticulously examine every inch of the land.

"No bloodstains, no sword aura, not even a trace of Conqueror's Haki's Haki..."

He sighed softly, sat back down on the top of the clock tower in the city center, and gazed at the faintly lit stars on the horizon.

"All clues indicate that this was an utterly ordinary supply operation."

"There was no struggle, no intrigue, not even a commotion worth recording."

"So..."

He stroked his chin, a self-deprecating smile suddenly flashing in his eyes, "Shanks, did you really just choose the most peaceful place in the world and do the most resolute thing?"

The setting sun carried the sounds of laughter from a distant tavern as Roy's figure gradually disappeared into the afterglow of the sunset.

Just moments after Roy left, at the foot of the mountain on the outskirts of the Satsuruso Kingdom.

The setting sun casts its slanting rays as the mountain path winds its way down.

A short figure was walking briskly up the stone steps. He was round-faced with slightly chubby cheeks, but his steps were surprisingly light.

The eight-year-old boy, dressed in faded coarse cloth clothes, had an undisguised excitement and curiosity in his eyes.

He carried a basket full of fruit, muttering to himself, "We agreed to pick this one and leave, but then I saw an even redder one..."

Looking up at the already pitch-black mountain path, he smiled wryly and hefted the heavy basket in his hand, thinking, "My mom's definitely going to nag me when I get back."

The first time he went up the mountain, he stood alone on the hilltop, gazing at the bustling crowds and boats in the distance. The smile on his face was like a dewdrop in the morning light, pure and bright.

No one knew that a heavy, lingering echo of fate was quietly slumbering within him.