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Chapter 46: Shanks
🕑 Added 2025-08-27 04:35:15 +0000 UTCThe veins on Rayleigh's forehead bulged one by one, his finger pointing at Kyle, trembling with rage. It looked like he was about to unleash a ten-thousand-word tirade of condemnation.
Just then, a hearty laugh broke the tension.
"Gu ha ha ha ha!"
Not only did Roger show no signs of nervousness, but he actually pushed through the crowd of onlooking crew members and carefully yet excitedly lifted the baby from the chest.
He held the baby high above his head, like he was showing off a rare Pokémon he'd just caught.
"Look at this!!" He grinned from ear to ear, his smile even brighter than when he'd just defeated Rocks. "This has got to be destiny! From today on, he's a member of the Roger Pirates!"
"Huh——?!" xN
Everyone on deck except Kyle let out shocked exclamations in unison.
Scopper Gaban was the first to jump up, his sunglasses nearly falling off: "Roger! Are you serious? That's a baby! A little kid who can't even walk yet!"
He pointed at the baby, then gestured toward the churning sea. "We're pirates, not running a daycare!"
"So what?" Roger looked completely matter-of-fact. He gazed down at the baby in his arms, and the infant seemed to sense something, opening bright black eyes and curiously looking at everyone. Not only didn't he cry—he actually started giggling.
"See, he likes me!" Roger announced proudly to the crew.
"This isn't about whether he likes you or not!" Rayleigh pressed his throbbing temples, feeling like this unreliable captain would give him a heart attack sooner or later. "Roger, this is a pirate ship! We're constantly fighting and dodging the Navy. How are you going to raise a child?"
"What's so hard about that?" Roger waved his hand dismissively, pointing to Kyle in the corner, who had a clear "don't look at me" expression on his face. "Kyle was tiny when he first came aboard, wasn't he? And look how well he turned out!"
Hey, hey, hey, how is this my fault again!
Kyle rolled his eyes and couldn't help but argue back: "Captain, allow me to make a correction. First, I was already six when I joined the ship—I could feed myself, use the bathroom, and occasionally even help you swab the deck. Second, age aside, between you and me, who do you think causes more trouble?"
As soon as this question came up, all the crew members, including the previously raging Rayleigh, instinctively looked at Roger.
Their expressions clearly said, "Do you even need to ask?"
Rayleigh didn't hesitate to take Kyle's side, nodding in agreement: "Kyle's right. On his first day aboard, he knew how to make his own bed properly. Meanwhile, Roger, I still have to remind you not to throw your socks around."
"Hey! Rayleigh!" Roger protested indignantly.
"Captain, you used my navigation charts as coasters last time, too."
"And my whetstone—you used it to scrub your shoe soles!"
"..."
The crew's chorus of complaints mixed with laughter, and the tense atmosphere on deck eased considerably.
But the problem still remained unsolved.
Roger was dead set on keeping this child. He paced the deck holding the baby, muttering to himself: "Gotta give him a name... Oh wait, looks like there's a tag in the chest..."
He pulled out a small cloth tag embroidered with golden thread from the chest and read it aloud: "Shanks... Hmm, good name! We'll call him Shanks!"
The crew couldn't argue with their captain and reluctantly accepted this reality.
However, accepting it was one thing—putting it into practice was another.
The Oro Jackson, the mightiest ship to conquer the Grand Line, fell into unprecedented chaos with the addition of one small baby.
"Who knows how to change diapers?!"
"What's a diaper? Would this deck-swabbing cloth work?"
"Idiot! That'll chafe his skin! Use my bandana—it's softer!"
"He's crying! Quick! Someone make him laugh!"
A burly crew member leaned over to Shanks and made a hideous face, which only made Shanks cry harder.
"Move aside!" Scopper Gaban, cigar clenched in his teeth and looking experienced, declared, "Kids are easy—just give 'em something tasty."
With that, he pulled out a rock-hard piece of jerky from his pocket and was about to shove it into Shanks' mouth.
"Stop!" Kyle's reflexes kicked in, and a gentle shockwave knocked the jerky away. "Are you trying to choke him? He doesn't have teeth!"
The deck erupted into chaos until Rayleigh's furious roar cut through the noise: "EVERYONE QUIET! Those boiling water—get to it! Find clean cloth—now!"
Roger watched from the sidelines, grinning and winking at everyone: "See? I told you it was simple."
Everyone, including Kyle, shot him looks of pure contempt.
Kyle leaned against the mast with a look of complete resignation, watching these legendary pirates—with average bounties over 100 million berries—getting completely overwhelmed by one defenseless baby.
He sighed and raised his finger.
A faint beam of light emanated from his fingertip, gathering and refracting in the air to form colorful, slowly dancing butterflies of light that circled above Shanks' little bed.
Shanks, who had been crying inconsolably just moments before, was instantly captivated by the beautiful light butterflies. His little hands reached up into the air, and soon he closed his eyes again, falling into peaceful sleep.
"Whoa!"
"Kyle, you've really got the touch!"
The crew looked at him with admiration. Kyle forced a smile and shooed them away irritably.
He gazed at the red-haired baby who was still smacking his lips in his sleep, his emotions all mixed up.
Looking at that chest, at that baby, then at Roger, who was grinning stupidly while sneaking peeks at the sleeping infant's face...
By this logic, he'd somehow become one of "Red-Haired" Shanks'... adoptive fathers?
Whoa! Talk about skipping generations!
Kyle pulled out his cup, filled it to the brim with orange juice, and downed it in one gulp.
The cool sweetness slid down his throat, but couldn't suppress that absurd yet wonderful feeling in his heart.
The ship rode the wind and waves toward the distant horizon.
On deck, a group of legendary pirates huddled around a tiny cradle, quietly debating whether they should feed goat's milk or fish soup tomorrow.
Roger: "How about some of my prized rum?"
"Are you an idiot?!"
"..."
