Vikengam: Who Could Resist Flicking Little Shanks?

"What? He's dead?!" Saint Garling sat on the sofa in his home, sounding utterly astonished as he listened to the butler's report.

"Yes, Lord Garling. Judging from the corpse, he must have angered that lord, because his head exploded," the butler quickly replied.

Those words made Garling's mood even heavier.

Bazzar had been summoned by Saint Saturn to answer questions regarding the Roger Pirates.

Garling knew that.

Yet Bazzar had died after entering. He had not merely been verbally sentenced to death—Saint Saturn had killed him personally. The implications were entirely different.

What kind of person was Bazzar? Was he even worth Saint Saturn personally killing him?

"Vikengam..." Garling thought of that name in an instant.

Damn it, within the Roger Pirates, Vikengam was probably the only one qualified to anger Saint Saturn enough for him to kill someone himself, right?

What had he done?

Or rather, what had happened?

Garling had originally intended to send someone to investigate whether the little baby on the Roger Pirates actually existed, and whether that baby was Shanks.

Now, Garling no longer dared act rashly.

"Forget it. I'll wait until things settle down. Or if I get the chance to see Vikengam someday, I'll ask him about it." Garling muttered to himself, abandoning his plan to continue investigating the Roger Pirates.

As for whether he had Vikengam's Den Den Mushi?

He did. He had called several times, but perhaps the signal was bad? In any case, Vikengam had never answered.

Maybe Saint Garling simply did not understand social etiquette. If an adult's Den Den Mushi could not get through after several calls at different times, then the other party probably just did not want to answer.

Meanwhile, at Rapeseed Flower Port in Alabasta.

The travel-worn Roger and the others had arrived there last night.

Early that morning, they prepared to leave Alabasta.

As the Oro Jackson's sails unfurled, Roger watched Rapeseed Flower Port gradually recede into the distance and said with some emotion, "This is the first time since running into Monkey D. Garp that I've shaken him off so easily. Sure enough, when dealing with the Marines, we have to rely on Vikengam's capabilities."

"What? If you're not used to it, we can send you back to the port," Rayleigh teased with a smile.

Jaba was directing the crew to set their course. Departing from Alabasta for Jaya Island, barring unforeseen accidents or marine disasters, it would take roughly a month and a half at normal sailing speed.

That was the normal situation. According to Jaba, for someone newly entering the Grand Line, sailing from a given route to the Sabaody Archipelago would take nearly a year.

That was why Saint Somaz had said sailing was a very dull affair. Rayleigh had definitely been making babies with Shakky.

After all, during a long voyage, most of what filled your sight was an endless expanse of sea. Who would not find that boring?

Rayleigh, of course!

As the only member of the Roger Pirates with a partner, he was living as freely as could be. Over the past two years or so, he had gone through seven beds. Every time Roger saw him smugly hauling a ruined bed, drilled full of holes, out of the cabin, Roger would feel despondent and silently shed bitter tears as he gazed at the sea.

He swore that once they came down from Sky Island, he would definitely rush to Amazon Lily and send Shakky home!

Elsewhere on the deck.

Vikengam watched Doringer pick Shanks up and raise him high in the air to play with him. Wearing a mischievous smile, he walked over.

Honestly, little Shanks was quite adorable. Or perhaps all human babies were adorable.

And Shanks was very well-behaved. Unlike the babies Vikengam remembered, he did not cry and scream randomly enough to irritate people. The little guy ate, slept, then ate after waking up. The rest of the time, he was always happily grinning, though no one knew what he was foolishly laughing about. He rarely did anything annoying.

Other than pooping everywhere...

But Vikengam was not the one changing his diapers anyway, so it did not matter.

When Doringer lifted Shanks high and made him giggle, Vikengam reached out and lightly flicked Shanks's little bird.

"HAHAHAHAHA..." Vikengam laughed at the amusing little thing. "Don't forget to save me a copy of the pictures you took of Shanks later."

Dragon was quite fond of photography. Whenever he had nothing to do, he would take pictures. He used to like photographing scenery most, but now, most of his pictures were of Shanks.

It could be said that Shakky spent the most time looking after Shanks on this ship, followed by Doringer. Once Shakky left, Doringer would probably become a full-time dad.

"What do you want with so many embarrassing pictures of Shanks?" Dragon asked with a chuckle.

Unlike Dragon, who liked collecting photos that documented every stage of Shanks's growth, Vikengam only liked collecting Shanks's embarrassing photos—wetting the bed, pooping his pants, accidentally falling and getting his head covered in bumps, grabbing bird droppings off the deck and stuffing them into his mouth, or getting his little bird flicked.

Vikengam had every kind of picture like that.

"I think this kid is destined for greatness. To make sure he doesn't forget the kindness of his uncle raising him in the future, I need to keep some dirt on him. If he doesn't behave when the time comes, I'll publish the photos in the newspapers. HAHAHAHAHA!" Vikengam declared with a loud laugh.

Not to mention that he was a member of the Roger Pirates and had helped raise Shanks.

Just considering the complicated relationship between Vikengam and Garling through their family bloodline, they were Celestial Dragons of the same generation. So calling himself Shanks's uncle was completely appropriate.

While Vikengam continued teasing little Shanks from time to time, Jaba walked over with a cigarette between his lips.

"Hey, Vikengam, have you ever seen the Giant Tribe? You must have, right?" Jaba asked.

"The Giant Tribe? Of course I have. I've even ridden one," Vikengam replied calmly.

"R-r-ridden one?!" Jaba's voice suddenly began trembling. His gaze behind his sunglasses became excited, and even his breathing seemed to grow heavier.

He grabbed Vikengam and dragged him to the railing at the edge of the deck. After looking around and confirming no one was paying attention to them, he swallowed and said, "Master, please teach me. How does an ordinary human ride a Giant Tribe member?"

"Hm?" Vikengam raised a hand and smoothed his impeccably groomed silver hair. Somewhat puzzled, he said, "First, catch a Giant Tribe member. Put a slave collar on him, then whip him hard, deny him food, or torture him relentlessly until his mental resilience breaks and he chooses to submit. Finally, train him into a slave so he can crawl around on the ground. Then make a properly sized, comfortable saddle and lock it onto him. Congratulations, you have a Giant Tribe mount. What's the problem?"

"Huh?" Jaba froze upon hearing that. He stared at Vikengam in shock. "Listen to what you're saying. Are you even human?"

"That's normal. I grew up in that kind of environment. Of course, I don't have Giant Tribe slaves, and I don't like slaves either. I only saw other people doing it. The Chaiqierz Family likes Giant Tribe slaves the most. In God's Residence, there is an ancient Giant Tribe slave who has been enslaved for nearly a hundred years. His physique far surpasses that of ordinary giants; he's enormous. We all call him Paradise Train Tavern. Do you know why?" Vikengam said with an utterly calm expression.

Jaba hesitated for a moment, but ultimately could not resist asking, "Why?"

"That was all over a century ago. I heard that when he was captured, he had a wife and daughter. Later, because he resisted the Chaiqierz Family, his wife and daughter were sent into the arena before his eyes. They were forced to fight endlessly against sea beasts and giant ferocious beasts injected with massive doses of aphrodisiac drugs. In the end... later on, he was still alive, but he no longer had a soul or consciousness of his own. He was trained into a slave who could only crawl in circles along the widest circular path in God's Residence. About fifty or sixty years ago, his body became severely damaged, especially his limbs, so the Chaiqierz Family modified him and turned him into a cyborg. With only a simple energy supply, he could crawl forever without food, water, or excretion. The Chaiqierz Family even built a luxurious tavern on his back, and many Celestial Dragons liked holding parties there." Vikengam smiled.

His smile was chilling and cold.

And looking at that smile, Jaba felt that it was somehow piercing to the eye.

After a moment, he patted Vikengam on the shoulder and said, "Coming out of an environment like that and still managing to become half a person like you are now... that wasn't easy, huh. Sigh."

Vikengam froze at that, then flew into a rage. "What do you mean, half a person? You bastard!"