Rescued by Legends.

The Second Half of the Grand Line — The New World.

A merchant ship, once the pride of its crew, now lay in tatters, under siege by the infamous Bull Pirates. The crackle of flames mixed with the scent of blood and burning wood, and the air itself seemed to tremble under the violence that filled the night.

Everything was red. The deck was slick with blood, the bodies of merchants and sailors strewn across it, lifeless. The once-luxurious ship now groaned under the weight of death and chaos. Every soul onboard had been mercilessly slain, no one spared by the pirates' bloodlust.

At the far end of the ship, barely visible in the dim light of the stars, a small boat was being carefully lowered into the ocean. A couple, dressed in luxurious garments that contrasted sharply with the brutality around them, worked desperately to set the boat adrift. Their eyes were filled with terror, their movements frantic. The boat's only occupant was a one-year-old baby, wrapped in luxurious soft blankets.

The baby had a single item of note around his neck, a golden necklace. Attached to it was a small tag, engraved with a name: Thomas King.

The mother gave the child a final, tearful glance, brushing a hand gently over his soft face before she let go. "Please survive," she whispered, her voice cracking as the boat lowered into the sea.

The father turned to her, pulling her into a brief, desperate embrace before they both stepped back, knowing their fate was sealed. They had no illusions. The pirates were closing in, and there would be no escape for them. Their only hope now was that the child, the one last piece of their family, might live on.

As the final survivor was cut down with a brutal slash, the Bull Pirates let out howls of victory. The captain, a massive figure with horns protruding from his head, surveyed the carnage, a satisfied grin stretching across his face.

"Loot the ship! Take everything of value!" he roared, his voice thundering over the ship.

The crew wasted no time, tearing apart what remained, pillaging the gold, jewels, and anything else that could fetch a price. The bodies were left where they lay, discarded like trash. Amidst the chaos, one pirate noticed something unusual, far off from the main ship, a small boat was drifting away, bobbing up and down with the waves.

"Captain!" the pirate called out, pointing toward the boat. "There's a lifeboat, drifting away!"

The captain turned, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the small vessel. For a moment, the thought of following it flickered across his mind. But then, something far more pressing caught his attention.

On the horizon, a ship's silhouette was closing in. Its iconic flag fluttered in the night breeze, the skull with a long curly moustache of the Roger Pirates.

"Captain! It's the Roger Pirates! They're heading this way!" another crew member shouted in a panic.

The captain's face twisted into a snarl, his anger tempered by survival instincts. "Forget the boat! We've got to move!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. "Everyone, retreat! Get us out of here, now!"

The pirates, once so eager to plunder, now scrambled back to their own ship, abandoning their spoils as the looming threat of Gol D. Roger's crew approached. Within moments, they were pulling up their anchor, sails unfurling as they made a hasty retreat, leaving the burning merchant vessel behind.

Meanwhile, the small boat continued to drift, carrying the lone infant away from the wreckage and deeper into the vast expanse of the New World.

Unbeknownst to the fleeing pirates, this child 'Thomas King' was destined for something far greater than they could ever imagine. His journey had only just begun.

The Oro Jackson, the legendary ship of the Roger Pirates, sliced through the ocean waters, its crew ever-watchful as it approached the remains of the looted merchant ship. The smell of burning wood and blood drifted in the breeze, but something else soon caught their attention.

Rayleigh, the crew's first mate, stood at the bow, eyes scanning the horizon. He narrowed his gaze when he spotted something floating a short distance from the wreckage. "Captain," he called out to Roger, "there's a lifeboat drifting away."

Gol D. Roger, standing tall at the ship's helm, turned to Rayleigh, his signature grin broadening. "Let's go check it out," he said, his voice carrying the confidence of a man who feared nothing.

As the Oro Jackson closed in on the small vessel, the crew gathered at the edge, curious about what could possibly have survived such carnage. Shanks and Buggy, the two youngest members of the crew, leaned over the railing, eager to see what was inside.

When the boat finally drew near, the crew fell into an awed silence. Inside, lying peacefully amidst blankets, was a baby a one year old child, unaware of the destruction around him. A golden necklace hung around the baby's neck, catching the light of the setting sun. The tag glimmered, bearing the name: Thomas King.

"Oi, Captain," Shanks said, his voice full of wonder. "It's a baby!"

Roger knelt down by the edge of the ship, peering at the child with a thoughtful expression. "Well, well, looks like the little one survived something terrible," he mused.

Rayleigh crossed his arms, his sharp eyes flicking between the baby and the wreckage in the distance. "Whoever he is, his parents are gone. There's no one left on that ship."

Crocus, the ship's doctor, knelt down to examine the child. "He's healthy enough," Crocus said, giving a nod of approval. "A little shaken, but he'll survive."

"Hey," Buggy whispered to Shanks, his eyes locked on the glittering necklace around the baby's neck. "That necklace looks expensive. You think the captain'll let us take it?"

Shanks shot him a disapproving look. "Knock it off, Buggy. This kid just lost everything."

Roger, overhearing the exchange, chuckled. "Leave the necklace, Buggy. The kid had already enough taken away from him today."

Roger stood and looked to his crew. "What do you all think? Should we bring him with us?"

There was a moment of silence as the crew weighed the situation. Rayleigh was the first to speak. "We're pirates, not caretakers. But… we can't just leave him here. He's too young."

"Besides," Gaban added, scratching his chin, "the Bull Pirates did this. If we take him in, we should do a proper sea burial for his parents and make sure those bastards pay for what they've done."

Crocus nodded in agreement. "A baby surviving a massacre like that? That's no coincidence. Fate has plans for this little one."

Roger's grin widened. "Alright then. The kid's part of the crew."

"Thomas King," Rayleigh said, reading the name on the necklace again. "Welcome aboard, kid."

[Ding! successfully joined the pirate crew of Roger Pirates]

The crew then took the leftover loot feom the merchant ship and even found the kid's parents in luxurious bloodied garments. Roger turned around and went to his ship.

The crew set fire to the merchant ship as they returned and prepared a three volley canon salute as the merchant ship drowned.

As the crew prepared to set sail once more, Roger gave a glance to the horizon, where the Bull Pirates had vanished into the distance. His expression hardened, his jovial demeanor fading. "We've got a score to settle," he said with a grin, his voice cold and steady with a large smirk pasted on his face.