Inside a house made of ice crystals, Loa and Shanks sat facing each other. Shanks was no enemy, but he was no guest either, so Loa couldn't be bothered to serve tea.
After they had sat in dry silence for a while, Shanks spoke first. "Captain Roger didn't reveal everything because the outcome mattered far less than the journey. People needed a reason to keep seeking the truth, to set sail for their dreams. Only then could this decaying world be filled with life."
"But what's causing the decay?"
Loa switched the hand propping up his face. "Just because Roger couldn't do it doesn't mean I can't. I'm not terminally ill. So don't come making trouble for me, Shanks. I used to admire you, you know."
"Heh. Admire me?"
Shanks had grown old. Not frail like Whitebeard had been—his heart had simply aged and grown weary. In this Great Cataclysm Era, when even the Yonko had fallen silent, being the "last pirate" had exhausted him.
The man once called the "most commanding man" had lost his old spirit, and the Red Hair Pirates had all but fallen apart.
Not everyone liked being a pirate. Oda had made that clear long ago in the original story.
Besides people like Luffy, who went to sea for their dreams, and even those who committed every evil under the banner of a dream, many more became pirates simply because they had no other way to survive.
If they could live decent lives, who would choose to drift at sea, never knowing whether they would survive the day or where their next meal would come from?
Shanks said nothing, so Loa went on.
"I once heard a story. A certain country had so many poor people that they became Beggars. The Beggars formed an organization,