UGB Chapter 504: A Farewell in the Dead of Night!
Chapter 504: A Farewell in the Dead of Night!
Vegapunk deployed the highest-level medical pod. This thing is located in the deepest part of Future Island.
A huge, transparent glass dome is inverted. Pale blue nutrient solution circulates within the tank. The machine hums.
The screen displays physiological data.
Every day, Chopper pushes open the metal door. He has a stern face and carries a tray containing specially made wound medicine.
He gave Roger a cold shoulder. He couldn't forgive that man. The despair of Ace's punch was etched into his mind.
But he is a doctor.
Chopper strode to the bedside. He roughly ripped off the old, blood-soaked bandage. He dipped a cotton swab in dark green ointment and applied it heavily to the wound.
All of them belong to Esliu. Avoid vital points. The cuts are deep enough to see bone.
Roger winced in pain, but gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.
He endured this brutality. He deserved it.
Over the next few days, Roger's injuries healed extremely quickly. He stopped coughing up blood.
Damaged internal organs began to beat again. Broken ribs healed. New shoots grew from the charred skin and flesh.
He was unusually disciplined. He didn't step out of the ward even once.
I didn't inquire about Ace. Nor did I look for his thorny son.
He was too ashamed to go.
Roger sat by the hospital bed, looking out the window through the bulletproof glass.
Outside were cold, steel buildings. Gray clouds loomed overhead. Mechanical guards patrolled back and forth.
When Roger was alone, he pressed his right hand tightly against his chest.
My heart beats steadily, emanating a strange warmth.
That was Chen Ye's trump card of feigning death.
The power lies dormant in the deepest recesses of life, fused with the blood.
Roger closed his eyes. He repeatedly went through the scenario in his mind.
The execution platform in Loguetown. A gloomy sky. A sea of people.
The angle at which the executioner wields his knife. The sensation of metal piercing skin. The temperature of gushing blood.
Every detail is etched into our bones. Historical milestones cannot be missed.
He opened his eyes. The weariness and confusion vanished.
Its sharp edge is undeniable. The domineering aura of One Piece has returned.
He's ready. Back to the eye of the storm.
To risk one's life to fill a timeless scam.
The others on Future Island were busy with their own things.
In the shadows of the corridor, Shanks stood, draped in a black cloak.
He turned his head and glanced at the tightly closed hospital room door from afar.
His gaze was complex. The scene in the square just days ago was still vivid in his mind. The old captain knelt down humbly.
He didn't go over. He didn't push the door open.
He glanced at it and turned away. His footsteps echoed through the empty corridor.
The old captain needs to be alone.
Swallow the heavy truth. Rebuild your resolve to face death.
The meeting room is on the other side.
The dragon sits in the main position. Zefa Qingzhi sits on either side.
The holographic nautical chart emitted a blue glow. They exchanged information in hushed tones.
The dragon's finger traced the outline of the Red Line. It analyzed the World Government's military strength and pointed out the blind spots in Mary Geoise's defenses.
Zephyr coldly added information about naval movements and the patterns of deployments to key bases.
Aokiji stood with his hands in his pockets. Occasionally, he would throw out a fatal hypothetical scenario.
They didn't mention Roger at all.
All their energy was focused on the game of overthrowing Im.
This is the goal set by Chen Ye.
Roger was just one step in the process. The stakes had to be high enough.
A few days later, late at night. The platform was shut down.
The cold wind howled as it swept across the metal floor.
Chen Ye stood on the edge. He wore a thin long robe. The wind didn't stir the hem of his garment.
All the top experts were summoned.
The white-bearded man strode forward, carrying a Murakumogiri sword in one hand. The blade gleamed coldly.
A dragon emerges from the shadows. Dark red tattoos are faintly visible.
Shanks gripped the hilt of his sword. Behind him followed his core officers.
Rocks swaggered in, arms crossed, a smug, arrogant smirk on his face.
Aokiji Zephyr has also arrived.
Several hundred people gathered. No one spoke.
The atmosphere was solemn.
Waiting for the man who conquers the sea.
The final farewell in One Piece.
The sound of metal scraping broke the silence.
The elevator doors slid open. Roger stepped out.
Most of the bandages were removed. He changed into a clean white shirt and draped his signature red coat over his shoulders.
The hem fluttered in the cold wind.
His face was pale, but his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness.
He strode onto the platform.
No one is sick or weak.
The aura of One Piece is back.
Having experienced life and death, I have seen through everything. I disregard my own life.
Rocks glanced at him sideways, breaking the deadlock.
"You look awful."
Rocks scoffed. His voice was harsh. He was resentful. Why was he the henchman? Roger should go back to be king.
"Get back there and die a quick and painless death."
Rocks sneered.
"Don't get in my way."
Roger wasn't angry. He just glanced at him indifferently.
He didn't even bother to talk back. That's just how bad-tempered Rocks was.
Shanks stood not far away, watching the old captain.
My eyes felt hot. My Adam's apple bobbed violently.
He opened his mouth, suppressing his emotions.
"captain."
The sound was very soft. The wind blew into Roger's ears.
Roger turned his head. He looked at his former apprentice, now one of the Four Emperors, Shanks.
He nodded, his eyes filled with satisfaction.
The white-bearded man stood at the very front, like a towering mountain.
He wields a knife with one hand, observing coldly.
No words were spoken. Silence speaks volumes.
Roger stopped. He didn't put on airs. He suppressed his domineering aura.
Like an old friend about to embark on a long journey.
He walked up to the crowd and nodded to each of them.
Dragon. Zefa. Blue Pheasant.
Rivals of the old era. Allies of the new era.
Roger turned around and stopped in front of the white-bearded man.
Less than two meters. The white-bearded man looked down from above.
His gaze was like a knife. He scrutinized Roger's resolve.
Roger looked up. He looked at his nemesis, with whom he had fought for most of his life. He looked at the man who was raising his son.
Roger grinned. He smiled.
A sense of relief. Purity. Neither arrogance nor servility.
Accept the grudges with this smile. Sever the entanglement of twenty years.
The white-bearded man looked at him. His grip on the knife tightened.
He remained silent. The coldness in his eyes dissipated.
No need for words. Everyone understands the significance of this smile.
Chen Ye turned around, walked past the crowd, and reached the edge.
Ahead lay endless darkness.
Raise your right hand. A burst of dark golden light erupts from your palm, dispelling the darkness.
A hand reaches out into the void. Suddenly, it tears downwards.
A sharp, deafening explosion echoed through the air.
Space was torn open like a ripped piece of silk.
A massive crack formed. Golden lightning crackled at its edges.
The portal to time and space has opened.
The winds of the old days blew out from the door.
It carried the salty, fishy smell of the sea. It carried the restlessness of the pre-Age of Exploration era.
The taste of the sea that Roger knows best.
A faint light emanated from the door, illuminating Roger's face.
The crowd stood at the back, awestruck by this law that transcended time and space.
Roger turned around. Which door was he facing?
Just one step away. Crossing that step would determine his destiny. His era.
The cold wind ruffled his red overcoat. All eyes were fixed on his retreating figure.
The sound of waves crashing against the ship's side could be heard from inside the gate.
Roger stood in front of the door. He didn't take a step.
The door is already open.
What will he leave behind in his last words?