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"Captain, they've opened fire!" The shout rang out just as countless cannon muzzles locked onto them. Jason's expression shifted immediately.
This was the Grand Line, one mistake, one solid hit to The Logan, and they'd be sunk without a trace.
Suddenly, the air turned heavy. A chilling, oppressive aura spread across the deck, making everyone stiffen instinctively.
Rouge emerged from the cabin at that moment, her expression solemn as she looked toward the approaching fleet of Marine warships. Out at sea, it's often not the enemies you see, but the ships beneath your feet, that decide your fate.
In a world dominated by water, where islands are separated by vast stretches of ocean, ships are lifelines. Lose your ship, and you're not just stranded, you're doomed. On the Grand Line, even the calmest waters can turn into your executioner.
"Stay the course, Jason! Keep sailing!" Rojen's voice was calm, unshaken.
His back faced the crew, his white cloak fluttering in the salty breeze. Crimson energy began to ripple from him, cloaking his figure in an ominous red glow that seemed to warp the air around him.
"Leave everything to me!"
Jason nodded firmly, tightening his grip on the helm. His gaze locked onto the tightening formation of enemy ships ahead, and with gritted teeth, he pushed forward.
The three souls aboard, two humans and one cat, were braced for what was to come.
And yet, Rojen stood alone at the bow, eerily composed, his eyes growing sharper by the second.
"Time… I have enough. Power… more than enough."
He murmured under his breath, hand slowly moving to the hilt of the katana at his waist, Ryūjin Jakka.
When the Possession System randomly summoned Yamamoto Genryūsai, Rojen had felt a rare surge of relief.
He understood how wild the system's randomness could be. Without paying double to narrow the category, it was a full gamble, pure chance.
He'd learned this firsthand while training in swordsmanship.
At the same Belly cost, souls of the same grade could differ drastically.
For instance, a Red-Grade soul could be summoned for 10,000 Belly. Within that range, you might get an average warrior worth 10,000–20,000 Belly… or, by sheer luck, a juggernaut valued at 90,000.
This time, he'd wagered 500 Million Belly. That meant the system would summon a soul valued anywhere between 100 Million and 900 Million.
It was a massive spread.
Of course, the more you spend, the better your odds of pulling a soul close to or above that value. At 500 Million, his chances of scoring a soul worth that or higher were fairly strong.
Still… nothing was guaranteed. He could've ended up with a 100 Million belly dud.
That's why this time, Rojen chalked it up to fate.
Yamamoto Genryūsai, a titan from the Shinigami world. A man whose status paralleled Whitebeard in this sea. Rojen estimated his worth to be no less than 900 Million, possibly even pushing into the Billion range.
To have him summoned at this moment… it was as if the system had decided to show him respect.
Once Yamamoto unleashed his full strength, he'd be a match for any of the Four Emperors. No question.
In the original timeline, when Whitebeard faced off against all three Admirals, it was like an adult toying with children. Now, with Yamamoto present through possession, this plan had already surpassed expectations by a wide margin.
The only lingering concern had been time.
But with The Logan having sailed this far, even that issue was practically resolved.
The operation could already be considered a resounding success.
Out at sea, the gap between the Logan and the Marine fleet was closing fast.
Rojen stood tall, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Fierce flames licked along the blade, his gaze narrowing with steely focus.
At the center of the Marine formation, aboard the lead flagship, A Lieutenant Commander was nervously hunched over the Den Den Mushi, voice tense and urgent.
"Vice Admiral! We're two thousand meters out!"
"Wait." Noas's reply came back calm and unhurried.
"Fifteen hundred meters!"
"Still… wait." The Lieutenant Commander's voice was quivering with tension, a stark contrast to the Vice Admiral's cool demeanor.
"We're at one thousand meters!" The wooden ship drifted ever closer. And now, the Lieutenant Commander could clearly see the figure standing at the bow.
A chill raced down his spine.
"It's… It's Rojen!!"
He didn't scream it aloud, but inside, his soul was howling.
Who was Rojen?
Maybe others didn't know the full truth, but he did.
The younger brother of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King. Just that name alone was enough to send shivers down any Marine's spine.
In this era, the shadow of Roger's legacy hadn't faded, not even close. Anyone with even a shred of connection to him was a walking legend.
And now, one of those legends stood before him. How could the Lieutenant Commander not tremble? How could he not be afraid?
"This is madness! The Marines actually want to take him in? Even the Admiral can't take him down!"
That thought alone nearly made his knees buckle. Unnoticed, the distance had already closed to around eight hundred meters.
"Report distance, Lieutenant Commander!" The Den Den Mushi crackled to life, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.
"Eight hundred fifty meters!" Regaining control of himself, the Lieutenant Commander responded quickly.
"Prepare to fire. Wait for my command. You only get one shot." Noas's voice was now low and grave.
"Understood!"
The Lieutenant Commander was visibly tense, eyes wide, heart racing, staring as the humble wooden vessel crept closer and closer.
Time seemed to grind to a halt.
Then, a thunderous roar exploded through the air.
"FIRE!!" The Lieutenant Commander shouted at the top of his lungs: "Fire!! Give it everything you've got!"
For a moment, the entire sea seemed to fall silent,
And then, chaos.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Gunpowder filled the air as cannons thundered in unison. Sparks danced across the sky, smoke coiling like serpents over the waves.
"Xiū Xiū Xiū Xiū!"
A dense barrage of shells carved dark arcs through the sky, slicing through the air toward The Logan.
Back on board the ship, Jason's face had gone pale, jaw clenched. He turned, fists balled tight.
"Captain! They've opened fire!!"
At the bow, the wind suddenly howled louder as Rojen's pupils constricted, his expression sharpening.
"I heard it." He murmured softly.
Then, in a single fluid motion, he drew his sword.
"Shhh!" The sound was like a match striking, a single spark flaring to life, and Jason's eyes widened as the spark instantly became a blazing flame.
And within a breath,
That flame exploded outward, like a phoenix unfurling its wings, a peacock spreading its fiery tail.
A hundred meters vanished into a sea of flame, and within the next breath, it had doubled in size.
"Wēng Wēng Wēng, "
The air itself shimmered and warped, bending under the unbearable heat.
And then, Rojen struck.
A single crimson slash tore through the sky, screaming forward like the wrath of a god.
"All things of the world, burn to ash, -- Ryūjin Jakka."
His voice was calm, almost reverent. Yet those words echoed like divine judgment, resonating in the hearts of all who heard them.
(End Of This Chapter)