Roger

A few days had passed since the last pirate skirmish, and Jack found himself sitting in the inn where Otohime worked. The atmosphere was relaxed; local merfolk were chatting, and the warm glow of the Sunlight Tree Eve illuminated the space.

Suddenly, alarms echoed through Fishman Island—the kind that heralded the arrival of pirates. Instinctually, Jack rose from his seat and exited the inn. Last time, he'd made quick work of Whitebeard's subordinates, who'd come with ill intent toward the mermaids. Now, he was prepared to do the same.

As he emerged into the square, his eyes narrowed. Something was off. Mermaids and Fishmen weren't fleeing or hiding; they were conversing with the newly arrived pirates. Taking a moment to assess, Jack knew the island residents had a way of sensing malice—or the lack thereof—in humans. Deciding against immediate action, he leaned against a nearby building, his eyes watchful, yet his demeanor calm.

He was waiting for Whitebeard, the well-known pirate whose subordinates he had eliminated a few days earlier. Whitebeard had a reputation for never forgiving those who harmed his crew, and Jack fully expected retribution. He was about to withdraw when a familiar figure disembarked from the pirate ship—Crocus.

Jack's eyes momentarily shifted from calm blue to a darker shade. "What's he doing here?" he muttered to himself.

Looking at the flag, the jolly roger was unmistakably that of the Roger Pirates. Jack was perplexed. The last time he'd seen Crocus, the man had been at Twin Peaks, serving as a doctor to an overly large whale. Now he was here on Fishman Island, mingling with a pirate crew.

Crocus had once lent Jack significant aid, his journal alone being an invaluable resource that Jack had consulted on countless occasions. Seeing that Crocus didn't look like a hostage, Jack surmised that the man had joined the Roger Pirates willingly. Intrigued, Jack pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning on and strode toward him.

"Crocus, never thought I'd see you here," Jack said, his eyes shifting to a calm blue.

Upon seeing Jack, Crocus's face brightened. "Jack! What an unexpected surprise! How have you been?"

"Alive. Can't ask for more, can you?" Jack's expression remained unchanging, though a hint of curiosity colored his gaze.

"I suppose not," Crocus chuckled. "Though you always were one for understatement."

Jack glanced at the Roger Pirates' ship, then back at Crocus. "You've taken up with new company."

"Aye, an interesting crew they are, and one with a compelling mission. It felt right," Crocus explained, his eyes filled with a sort of excitement Jack rarely saw in anyone.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Last I checked, you were a whale doctor."

Seeing Crocus's face drop, Jack patted his shoulder lightly. "Don't look so disappointed. I haven't given up on finding the Rumbar Pirates. It's just a big, unforgiving sea out there."

Crocus looked up, eyes softening. "I didn't doubt you, Jack. It's just that I can't stand still. Laboon needs me to act, too."

Jack nodded, eyes remaining a calm blue. "I get it. You're increasing the odds by being out here. No harm in that. I'm just surprised to see you with this crew, is all."

Crocus chuckled. "Well, the Roger Pirates have a certain allure. There's something about them—like they're on the verge of a great discovery. I couldn't resist."

"The allure of pirates seems to be a common weakness," Jack said, his gaze briefly scanning the crowd of Fishmen and mermaids mingling with the Roger Pirates.

"How about you? What's the allure of Fishman Island? You're a long way from your usual hunting grounds."

"I could ask you the same," Jack countered. "But let's just say the island has its own set of mysteries, and I'm not opposed to a little detour."

"Fair enough." Crocus took a sip of a drink someone had handed him. "By the way, have you heard any news about the Rumbar Pirates?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothing yet. It's like they vanished into thin air. But I'm still on it."

"Good to hear," Crocus replied, his eyes still filled with that same undying hope.

As they conversed, two figures approached Crocus, their faces adorned with easy smiles. One wore a straw hat jauntily tilted on his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. This was none other than Gol D. Roger, the pirate whose reputation had already traveled the lengths of the East Blue and beyond. Beside him, a man named Rayleigh exuded an air of seasoned experience. His silver hair shone under the ambient light of the Sunlight Tree Eve, and the sword at his side spoke of many battles.

"Who's your friend, Crocus?" Roger asked, his voice tinged with a sort of playful curiosity.

Jack looked at Roger and felt a rush of energy emanating from him, a powerful presence that was hard to ignore.

"Crocus, you always know the most interesting people," Rayleigh chimed in, his eyes also locked on Jack.

Jack felt a certain gravity in Roger's presence that compelled him to respond. "Name's Jack," he said, locking eyes with Roger. His pupils were calm blue, reflecting neither malice nor deference.

"Jack, eh?" Roger beamed. "Well, anyone who's a friend of Crocus here is a friend of mine."

Jack stared into Roger's twinkling eyes and let his own aura flare up, cold and unwavering. Both Roger and Rayleigh grinned, seemingly delighted by the challenge, while Crocus took a step back, unsure of how to mediate the tension.

"Sorry, but friendship with pirates isn't in the cards for me. I'm a Pirate Hunter," Jack stated. His eyes were a cool blue, indicating neither malice nor friendliness. "You're not the usual brand of pirate, but we're still on opposite sides."

Crocus opened his mouth as if to mediate, but then closed it. What could he say? Jack was a Pirate Hunter. Roger and Rayleigh were pirates. The tension was understandable.

Roger chuckled, his own aura rising to meet Jack's. "A Pirate Hunter, eh? Now that's interesting! But you sure you don't want to cross swords, just a little?"

Jack's eyes flickered. "Tempting, but not today. I'm expecting other company."

Roger's brows shot up, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Oh? And who might that be?"

Rayleigh, sensing the tension, turned his eyes to Jack. "A friend, or an enemy?"

"You could say an old acquaintance. One who doesn't take kindly to his crew being taken down," Jack replied, cryptically.

Roger and Rayleigh exchanged glances, suddenly understanding. "Whitebeard," Roger mused, impressed.

"The very same."

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