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Chapter 69: Roger's Request
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 09:40:23 +0000 UTCKyle's smile grew more pronounced as this "standoff of the century" involving three future Four Emperors became increasingly absurd.
Two troublemakers—one scaring himself, the other scared by his opponent—stared at each other across the bonfire, creating a bizarre balance.
Just as Kyle was about to enjoy this rare scene a bit longer, his Observation Haki picked up an unusual shift in atmosphere.
Above the noisy banquet, three figures had gathered atop the giant mushroom that had somehow survived the Haki clashes at the island's center.
Roger, Whitebeard, and Oden.
The three men's auras invisibly shut out the noise below, creating a quiet domain that belonged only to them.
Kyle raised an eyebrow and silently leaped to a nearby branch with a few bounds—close enough to see everything without intruding.
On the mushroom's broad cap, Roger had abandoned his usual carefree manner for an unprecedented seriousness.
He carefully withdrew a massive rubbing from his chest, slowly unfolding it among the three of them.
It was a Poneglyph rubbing, its ancient and mysterious script seeming to contain some kind of power in the sunlight.
Whitebeard set his sake gourd aside, his massive frame leaning slightly forward, his eagle-sharp eyes scrutinizing the rubbing.
Beside him, Oden's drunkenness and wild demeanor completely vanished the moment he saw those characters, replaced by a complex expression mixing surprise and familiarity.
"Oden." Roger's voice was deep and powerful, tinged with barely contained excitement. "Can you... really read these characters?"
Oden's gaze shifted from the rubbing. He scratched his head and said matter-of-factly: "I can read them, sure... but this stuff is a code passed down through generations of the family. Roger, where'd you get something like this?"
"A code?" Roger was stunned at first, then wild joy spread across his face. "As long as you can read it! As long as you can read it!"
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his surging emotions.
"Newgate, Oden," Roger sat cross-legged, his gaze sweeping over his dear friend and rival as he slowly began, "do you know? Our Roger Pirates have already reached the endpoint the Log Pose can indicate—Lodestar Island."
Whitebeard's pupils contracted slightly, and Oden's eyes widened. Though he yearned for the sea, he didn't fully understand navigation's ultimate goal, but he could read the weight of those words from Roger and Whitebeard's grave expressions.
The Log Pose's endpoint—didn't that mean they'd already circled the world once?
"But!" Roger's tone suddenly shifted, his voice filled with unwillingness and excitement.
"That's not the real endpoint at all! We discovered the Log Pose becomes completely useless there. To continue forward and reach that true 'final island,' to accomplish something unprecedented... we need another kind of 'compass'!"
His finger struck the rubbing heavily.
"This!" Roger's eyes blazed with startling brightness, as if flames were burning within. "There are four red Road Poneglyphs in the world. If we find them, decode the information on them, and connect the four locations on a sea chart, the center where they intersect... that's where the legendary final island is located!"
"If we can reach that place," Roger's voice rose, each word bursting from his chest, "we'll be the undisputed world's greatest pirate crew!"
As his words ended, the mushroom fell into deathly silence.
Edward Newgate was completely shaken. After God Valley, he'd pursued "family" rather than empty fame, but this didn't prevent him from understanding the world-shaking significance contained in Roger's words.
This wasn't simple adventure—it was touching the world's "truth," the highest achievement pirates could reach.
Oden's mouth hung open, speechless for a long time.
He'd thought going to sea meant meeting all kinds of people and experiencing all kinds of things, never imagining such magnificent secrets were hidden at this ocean's end!
In an instant, he felt his blood boiling.
In this heart-stopping silence, Roger's gaze turned to Whitebeard, his expression becoming incredibly earnest and serious.
"Newgate..."
He stood up, addressing Whitebeard solemnly.
"I need your help. To reach that place, to unravel the world's greatest secret... lend me Oden for one year!"
At these words, Whitebeard's brow furrowed instantly, an invisible aura of Haki rising.
Oden was his brother, his family—not someone to be borrowed at will.
"Roger, are you trying to poach my crew?" Whitebeard's voice dropped low.
"No!" Roger's answer was decisive. "I'm just... asking!"
His words were incredibly sincere. Speaking from his heart, this unruly man who didn't even respect the Fleet Admiral unconsciously bent his body slightly, his knees seeming to sink.
For this dream he'd chased his entire life, he was willing to set aside all his pride, even bowing to his greatest rival.
Just as Roger was about to make that shocking gesture of kneeling, his peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of that leisurely figure on the branch below.
Kyle leaned against the trunk, one hand supporting his chin, his eyes behind sunglasses calm as still water—neither surprised nor dissuading, just quietly watching him.
Those eyes held no anger or encouragement, yet seemed to contain a mirror reflecting Roger's deepest self—a king about to ascend the throne.
Kings don't kneel.
Even when making requests, they should do so with kingly bearing!
Roger's body suddenly trembled, his about-to-bend knees instantly straightening.
He slowly straightened his back, his pleading posture disappearing, replaced by composed dignity.
He was still making a request, but his bearing was completely different.
This was no longer a dreamer begging the strong, but a king about to create an era extending a solemn invitation to a recognized rival.
"Newgate," Roger's voice rang out again, calm yet full of power. "I request in the name of Gol D. Roger—let Oden sail with me for one year. After one year, he'll see the world's greatest treasure, and I will personally return him to you safe and sound."
His gaze met Whitebeard's directly, showing not the slightest retreat.
"Please!"
Those final three words he spoke with absolute clarity, absolute force, resonating powerfully.
