Shanks, wearing his straw hat, and Buggy were carefully hiding in a dark corner, closely watching everything that unfolded.
Shanks's gaze was deep and sharp, constantly tracking changes in the situation.
Seeing what the Marines were doing, he suddenly felt a powerful surge of unease, as though an invisible force
had quietly plucked the strings of fate, sending something crucial off its predetermined course.
The feeling came so abruptly, yet felt so real, that he could not help sinking into thought.
Captain! I will carry on your will and find someone who can inherit it!
Shanks clenched his fists tightly, veins bulging on the backs of his hands, his eyes revealing an unwavering resolve.
He recalled every moment he had spent with Roger, those years of adventure at sea. Every word Roger had spoken, every look in his eyes, was deeply etched in Shanks's heart.
At that moment, he seemed to hear Roger's hopes for him from beyond, a legacy, a mission.
Buggy, beside him, had none of Shanks's resolve or composure.
He stared in terror toward the Marines, his body trembling slightly, praying over and over that they would not be discovered or captured.
Buggy's eyes were filled with fear and worry. After all, with their current strength, they were as fragile as ants before such a massive Marine encirclement.
Elsewhere in the square, Garp stood expressionlessly beside Sengoku, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
Roger's death struck his heart like a heavy hammer.
His spirits had sunk to their lowest, as though the entire world had lost its color.
Moreover, when he had visited Roger just a few days earlier, he had keenly sensed that Roger seemed to have a great deal to tell him, only to hold back in the end.
That sense of words