Twenty-Month Pregnancy, the Second Sinful Blood Left Behind by Roger!

Chapter 1: Pregnant for Twenty Months, the Second Sinful Bloodline Left Behind by Roger!

South Blue, Baterilla Island.

The salty ocean breeze, wrapped in a torrential rainstorm, lashed against the wooden window frames, producing a teeth-grating, creaking sound. The room was unlit; in the dim light, only heavy panting sawed back and forth through the air.

Portgas D. Rouge lay on a bedsheet soaked through with sweat. Her fingers gripped the wooden edge of the bed so tightly that her nails peeled back from the excessive force, oozing thin wisps of blood. Twenty months. For the two lives in her womb that should never have existed in this world, she locked her pelvis with sheer willpower, deceived the laws of physiology, and overdrew all her vitality.

The door panel was pushed open, and the wind and rain poured in.

A bulky figure blocked the doorway; it was Vice Admiral Garp. He did not wear that coat symbolizing justice, wearing only casual clothes instead, and his expression was heavier than the dark clouds outside.

"Rouge." Garp's voice was dry, as if it had been rubbed against sandpaper.

The woman on the bed turned her head with difficulty, her golden curls plastered against her cheeks, and that pair of eyes that always held a gentle smile now retained only the tiniest spark of light.

"Garp...-san." Rouge's voice was so light it was almost swallowed by the sound of the rain, "Has he come?"

"He's come." Garp approached the bedside and knelt on one knee. This man, called a hero of the Marines, was at that moment as helpless as a wrongdoing child, "The World Government's search ship just left. For now... you're safe."

Rouge twitched her somewhat dry lips, wanting to smile, but only moving the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. The piercing pain in her abdomen struck once more; this time it was no longer the previous dull ache, but the tearing sensation of life about to be wrenched from her body.

"Ah—!"

A piercing scream pierced the curtain of rain.

The midwife's hands were trembling. She was the island's only doctor, yet she had never witnessed a birth that so defied natural law.

The first to emerge was a wrinkled male infant with a resounding cry. He waved his tiny arms, as though declaring war on this malicious world.

"It's a boy." The midwife fumbled to cut the umbilical cord and wiped him down with warm water, "Very healthy, extremely energetic."

Rouge looked at that child, the light in her eyes brightening for an instant: "Ace... Gol D. Ace."

That was the name Roger had decided upon.

Yet the agony was not over. Rouge's body arched once more, and that other life in her abdomen, which had lain dormant for twenty months, finally decided to descend.

The midwife's hands were covered in blood, the sweat from her forehead pelting the wooden floorboards. She widened her eyes, watching Rouge's heavily distended abdomen undergo violent contractions once more.

"There's another!" The midwife's voice was hoarse, carrying extreme terror and disbelief. On this remote little island, twins were already rare, let alone after the maternal body forcibly held them for twenty months.

Garp's fists clenched, his knuckles popping. He strode forward, half his torso leaning over the edge of the bed, his broad palm suspended in mid-air, yet he dared not touch the fragile woman on the bed.

"Rouge, hold on." Garp roared in a low voice, his tone carrying a rare tremor.

Rouge's complexion was deathly pale, devoid of a shred of color. Her lips had already been bitten through by herself, fresh blood flowing along her chin down to her collarbone. Every breath was accompanied by violent spasms.

In the darkness, Kahn felt a tremendous pushing force. He had originally been suspended in a chaotic soup of warm liquid, with only muffled heartbeats in his ears. Now, this protective membrane tore open. The cold air stung his skin.

He opened his eyes, his vision blurry and indistinct, able to make out only dim light and a few swaying figures.

Uncontrollable crying surged from his throat. Kahn wanted to shut his mouth, but an infant's physiological instincts completely took over his body.

"Out! It's a boy too!" The midwife expertly cut the umbilical cord and wrapped this newborn infant in a warm, damp towel. She placed the two children side by side on Rouge's pillow.

Kahn stopped crying. He rolled his eyes, sizing up the scene before him.

A huge face full of wrinkles and bearing a scar leaned in close. That old man wore a plain shirt, and that mountain-like presence was impossible to ignore.

Garp.

In his past life, Kahn was a seasoned One Piece fan, having seen this face countless times in manga and anime. The Hero of the Marines, Monkey D. Garp.

Shifting his gaze, Kahn saw the infant lying beside him, flushed red and wailing as he waved his fists.

Ace.

Turning his head again, there was a blonde woman. She was breathtakingly beautiful; even though her vitality had reached its end, her face still bore the radiance of motherhood.

Portgas D. Rouge.

A tempest raged within Kahn's mind. He had transmigrated, becoming the son of the Pirate King Gol D. Roger, and Ace's twin brother.

Rouge exerted effort to raise her hand, her fingertips gently brushing against Ace's cheek, then moving to Kahn's forehead.

"This child..." Rouge's voice had grown faint to the extreme, the sound of wind and rain almost completely covering it.

Garp leaned down, pressing his ear against Rouge's lips.

"Kahn... his name is Kahn." Rouge revealed a look of relief. The twenty-month ordeal had finally drawn a period to its sentence at this very moment. She had fulfilled her promise to that man, preserving their bloodline.

"Ace, Kahn." Garp repeated these two names, his eye sockets turning red.

Rouge's hand slipped powerlessly, slamming against the bedsheet. Her breathing stopped.

The room was left with only the sound of the wind and rain outside and Ace's wailing.

Kahn looked at Rouge's peaceful expression, an unspeakable sorrow welling up in his heart. This was his mother, the great woman who traded her life to bring about his birth.

The midwife retreated two steps, leaning against the wall and trembling all over. She had delivered babies on this island for thirty years, and had never encountered an infant born after being held for twenty months. More terrifying still was that man's name.

Gol D. Roger.

Over the past year, this name represented an absolute taboo. World Government agents searched for pregnant women and newborns in the South Blue like rabid dogs, preferring to execute a thousand by mistake rather than let a single one slip through.

"Vice Admiral Garp..." The midwife's voice trembled, her teeth chattering together, "W-will I die?"

Garp did not look back. He stripped off his broad coat and gently draped it over Rouge's gradually cooling body.

"You saw nothing, heard nothing." Garp turned around, pulled a thick envelope from inside his coat, and tossed it onto the table. The envelope spilled open, revealing a thick stack of Beli inside and a pass stamped with a naval general's seal.

"Take your family and go to East Blue. That pass can get you shelter at any naval base. Never return to the South Blue again." Garp's tone was flat, yet carried an irresistible oppression.

The midwife nodded repeatedly, snatched up the money and the pass from the table, and scrambled out of the room, vanishing into the rainy night.

Garp fetched two sturdy swaddling cloths, wrapping Ace and Kahn up separately. His movements were rough, yet surprisingly steady.

"Roger, you bastard, you've really dumped a huge problem on me." Garp looked at the two infants in his arms and sighed.

Kahn opened his bright, dark eyes and stared straight at Garp.

Garp found himself unnerved by that gaze. The child's eyes were far too clear and far too calm, completely unlike a newly born infant.

"You brat, what are you looking at? Old man here is a Marine!" Garp glared fiercely at Kahn, though the movements of his hands grew much gentler.

Garp held the two children, pushed open the door, and stepped into the pouring rain.

At the port of Baterilla Island, a merchant ship flying no flags at all was docked at the shore. This was something Garp had specifically prepared to avoid the eyes and ears of the Marines.

Upon boarding, Garp settled the two children in a secret room on the lowest level of the ship's hold. The wooden planks emitted the salty tang of seawater and the stale odor of mildew.

"Set sail." Garp gave the order to the first mate.

The merchant ship rocked away from the port amidst the wind and waves. Lying in his cradle and listening to the sound of ocean waves striking the hull of the ship, Kahn began to sort through his thoughts.

The One Piece world was fraught with crisis. Without strength, even breathing was a mistake.

What was more, sinful blood flowed through his veins. Once his identity was exposed, what awaited him was endless pursuit by the World Government, and it might even draw out powerhouse combatants of admiral rank.

Ace's tragedy, the sheer brutality of the Paramount War, flashed through Kahn's mind one by one.

He turned his head to look at Ace, who was sleeping soundly beside him. This future Fire Fist was right now merely an infant prone to drooling.

I won't let the Paramount War repeat itself. Kahn swore silently in his heart.

To survive, to change fate, he had to grow strong.