Fate

As soon as the words left his mouth, Roger burst out laughing. His laughter rang across the deck.

"Can't you see how I'm doing?!"

He patted his chest, his tone light. "I can eat, I can drink, and I can still fight—"

At that, he even puffed out his chest, as if to prove it to everyone.

"Do I look like someone who's about to drop?"

Then Roger changed tack, his grin growing broader.

"Since you came alone—"

"You can't be here for a fight, can you?"

He lifted his flask and waved it toward Rock.

"Come on, come on—"

"How often do you run into an old friend out here? Have a drink!"

With that, Roger held out the flask.

There was no caution in the gesture, only an easy, almost childlike air. It was as though the man before him was not a Marine Vice Admiral, but an old friend he had not seen in years.

Rock watched him in silence.

A flash of lightning crossed his eyes, then vanished.

He had noticed something, but he said nothing.

After a moment's silence, the corner of Rock's mouth lifted.

"Sure."

And so, under the confused, wary, faintly tense gazes of the Roger Pirates gathered on deck—

A Marine Vice Admiral and a legendary pirate actually sat down side by side in the middle of the deck.

The flask was opened.

"Glug—"

Liquor poured into a cup, its scent spreading on the wind.

No swords were drawn. No thunder roared. There was only the clear sound of liquor filling a cup.

Not far away, Buggy and Shanks huddled behind Rayleigh, their bodies rigid as they spoke in hushed voices.

"Mr. Rayleigh..."

Shanks frowned and asked quietly, unable to take his eyes off Rock. "Is this... really okay?"

Buggy looked even