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As the warship pulled into the dock, a tall figure emerged from the cabin's quarters, his Justice Cloak billowing in the salty breeze. With each unhurried step, an overwhelming aura radiated from him, pressing down on every Marine present.
Though they remained still, an unspoken tension ran through them, their gazes instinctively lowered in reverence.
"So this is the power of a Marine Admiral... What an intimidating presence!"
Similar thoughts echoed in the hearts of many, their respect deepening as they watched the figure descend the gangway.
"We've finally arrived, huh?"
His voice, though languid, carried a certain amusement as he spoke.
"Admiral Borsalino, we've confirmed it— this is Baterilla Island."
A burly Vice Admiral at his side reported in a steady, measured tone.
"Hmm... So, the Pirate King's orphan might be here?"
Borsalino— also known as Admiral Kizaru— arched an eyebrow, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.
"The intelligence is inconclusive," the Vice Admiral replied coolly, "but the Marines can't afford to overlook any possibility."
Then, lowering his voice, he added, "And Admiral, this isn't the place for such discussions."
Kizaru pursed his lips, as if unimpressed. Without another word, he took a step forward— then leaped.
Midair, his entire form ignited in a brilliant golden light.
The sheer intensity forced nearby Marines to avert their gazes, their eyes instinctively shutting against the radiance.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the golden light streaked across the sky.
In an instant, it had crossed several kilometers, descending upon Baterilla Island. The golden glow slowly faded, revealing Kizaru's figure standing lazily upon the shore.
"So fast!"
"That's the power of a Logia Devil Fruit— the Pika Pika no Mi! The speed of light itself!"
"Incredible... When will I ever reach that level?"
Whispers spread among the Marines still aboard the warship, their admiration barely concealed.
The Vice Admirals, however, merely furrowed their brows in silent disapproval. They had long since grown accustomed to Kizaru's unpredictable nature, but there was nothing they could do. He was one of the Marine's strongest fighters, and on this mission, they were only here to assist him.
Kizaru glanced around the island, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"The Pirate King's wife... Could she really be hiding here?" he murmured.
"How intriguing. That old troublemaker, Roger— who would've thought he'd leave a legacy in this world?"
Then, as if struck by a thought, his voice took on an almost lazy indifference.
"But still..."
Kizaru paused.
"A seed of sin is still just that— a pity."
Most of the rank-and-file Marines had no idea how this information had reached them. They only knew one thing: the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, had a wife. And if the timing was right, she would be giving birth soon.
With this knowledge, the Marines had cast a wide net, investigating every pregnant woman in the region. Their search had already narrowed the possibilities considerably.
For Kizaru, however, this mission was twofold.
Sengoku had predicted that a certain individual—Rojen—would surface here. Capturing him was a priority. But more than that, they had orders to find and eliminate Roger's so-called orphan.
Because the world would not tolerate the Pirate King leaving behind an heir.
Justice wouldn't allow it.
"Now then..."
Kizaru waved a hand casually, prompting a Commodore to rush forward. The officer stood at attention, clearly uneasy under the Admiral's gaze.
"Any updates?"
"Sir! We've completed three thorough searches across the five islands near Baterilla. So far, we've identified 245 pregnant women, with 45 expected to give birth soon!"
"Forty-five, huh?"
Kizaru's smile widened.
"Remove them from surveillance."
The Commodore blinked in confusion.
"Sir...?"
Kizaru tilted his head, as if mildly amused by the officer's lack of insight.
"Focus on the women due a month from now."
He flicked his wrist, signaling the order.
"Understood!"
The Commodore saluted and hurried off to relay the command.
According to Sengoku and the others' analysis, the Pirate King's child was likely to be born a month from now. Any expectant mothers due before that could be ruled out immediately.
With this in mind, Kizaru—Admiral Kizaru—and his unit settled on Baterilla Island.
But their real target was far more dangerous—Rojen.
Of course, such sensitive information wasn't for the public. To the civilians, the Marines were simply searching for any relatives of the late Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
Somewhere on the streets of Baterilla Island
A gentle-faced woman, her belly slightly swollen with pregnancy, slowly ran her hand over her stomach. Her gaze was tender, filled with maternal warmth. As she stood in line among other expectant mothers, she quietly followed the flow of people ahead.
"Alright, you've been checked. You're free to go home now."
The announcement came from a Marine officer at the front of the line.
A collective sigh of relief passed through the pregnant women. It had been exhausting— carrying their unborn children while enduring the repeated questioning and scrutiny of the Marines.
Hearing the words, the gentle-faced woman relaxed slightly as well.
"As per orders from above, all women due to give birth within this month have now been cleared. You may leave!"
Another officer's voice rang out, bringing a wave of joy to many.
"Finally! We're no longer under suspicion!"
"I was terrified… If they mistook me for the one they were looking for, what would happen to my baby?"
As more women completed the checks, the line grew shorter.
"Two more months…"
The gentle-faced woman subconsciously cradled her belly, her heart heavy with unease.
"With this level of scrutiny, it's only a matter of time before they find him."
"What should I do?"
Her fingers trembled slightly as she rubbed her abdomen, worry creeping into her expression.
"The remaining women may return home," a Marine announced. "However, do not wander off, and stay within the Marines' field of vision at all times."
"Cooperate with the Marines, and once the inspections are complete, there will be no issues."
The Marines were not mindless butchers. Without solid proof, they wouldn't act against civilians.
Even so, the woman felt an unbearable weight pressing down on her chest.
Upon returning home, she quietly shut the windows, drew the curtains, and locked the door behind her. Each movement was measured, deliberate, as if sealing herself away from the outside world. Step by step, she made her way to the bedside and slowly sat down.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an unshakable resolve.
"Ace… Don't be afraid."
"Mommy won't give up on you."
"No matter what happens, I will bring you into this world."
"You are his legacy… and the hope for the future."
She gently stroked her belly, her determination hardening.
But even determination couldn't replace the needs of her body. She hadn't eaten yet and needed to find something to sustain herself.
For the sake of the child growing within her, she couldn't afford to neglect her health.
Opening the door, she cast a quick glance at the worried man who had been caring for her. Seeing his concern, she mustered a small, reassuring smile before stepping outside, a basket in hand.
At the street corners, Marine patrols moved in and out of sight, their presence constant.
For any ordinary woman, the weight of such relentless surveillance would have been unbearable.
But Rouge was no ordinary woman.
She was strong.
And for the sake of her child, she was willing to endure anything.
Meanwhile, in a secluded part of Baterilla Island
Day after day, the Marines' search continued. Their watchful eyes never left the expectant mothers of the island.
Four days passed in the blink of an eye.
Then, on this particular day, a small boat silently drifted ashore on a secluded stretch of jungle coastline.
Two figures stepped onto the island—one large and imposing, the other small and feline.
An hour later, two masked individuals appeared within Baterilla's streets.
"I don't know where she is… but no matter what, we have to find her!"
"Please— you must!"
The large figure and the cat exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison before swiftly departing, each clutching a piece of paper.
A single drawing.
A portrait of a pregnant woman— gentle, beautiful, and carrying an unborn secret that the world would never allow.
(End Of This Chapter)