Robin's eyes brimming with tears picked up the perfectly fried delicacy. The crispiness of the batter paired with the plump and fresh shrimp inside created a symphony of flavors. The shrimp's elasticity and the burst of juices as she bit into it were an explosion of taste.
Accompanied by tartar sauce, the dish's savory freshness reached another level. The food before her came from the sea, meeting her palate and touching her soul.
From stewing to frying, from the evolution of cooking methods to the tides of human destiny—on this day, in a small town on the island of Marineford, Robin embarked on a new chapter in her life.
The Sea Calendar year 1500 was destined to be an extraordinary one. On South Blue's Baterilla Island, Portgas D. Rouge, drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted, cradled a newborn baby in her arms. Her face, filled with fatigue, bore a satisfied smile. Her dimming eyes reflected the image of the child she held. She softly murmured, "Ace…"
Suddenly, there was a heavy knock on the door. Rouge's gaze instantly sharpened. "Who is it?" The newly postpartum woman, summoning the last remnants of strength from her body, used her trembling, nearly paralyzed hands to shield the wailing baby in her arms tightly.
The person outside remained silent, not responding. After a brief pause, the door creaked loudly as it was forcibly dismantled along with the lock. A burly man in a suit stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with the detached door panel.
He looked at the woman lying on the bed and the baby in her arms before asking in a deep voice, "Are you Portgas D. Rouge?"
"An unwelcome guest!" Rouge's expression darkened. Although this intelligent woman had a rough idea of the intentions of the robust man with a buzz cut and beard who had barged in, she still clung to a sliver of hope. "Who are you? This is an illegal intrusion into a private home; leave immediately!" The burly man, whose face bore a distinctive ring-shaped scar near his eye, remained unmoved.
Fixing his gaze on the crying baby in her arms, he asked a second question: "Is this his bloodline?" Ignoring the intense hostility radiating from the woman, he pulled over a chair, sat down, and continued.
Seeing Rouge remain silent, the man introduced himself: "I am Monkey D. Garp, Vice Admiral of the Marine Headquarters."
Rouge's face turned pale as she finally recognized why he seemed familiar—his face had been splashed across newspapers as a celebrated Marine hero. He relentlessly pursued the Pirate King, driving him to near desperation, and ultimately captured her husband.
Before she could respond, Garp's expression grew serious as he looked at the visibly uneasy woman. "I'm here at the request of Gol D. Roger. This was also your husband's final wish."
"?!"
Monkey D. Garp stared at the baby cradled in Rouge's arms, and in a trance, he could almost hear the voice of his eternal rival, Roger, resonating in his ears.
"Garp! Can I trust you? My child will be born soon, but regretfully, I won't be around by then." Roger spoke with a fearless grin, unbothered by his own impending death.
"Why are you telling me this, a Marine?" As someone who had clashed with Roger countless times, Garp could always predict his rival's thoughts.
"The mother of that child… That woman connected to you… She'll definitely be found and executed."
The flickering light of an oil lamp cast dancing shadows. The man, bound by thick chains of seastone, paused momentarily, as if gathering his resolve, before continuing: "That's why I'm telling you." Slowly rising to his feet, the chains clinked with his movements. "The government will thoroughly investigate my activities over the past year. They'll find her and kill her."
The man hailed as the Pirate King stepped closer to his lifelong rival, his voice filled with urgency. "But, the child in her womb is innocent, Garp!" He clung tightly to the iron bars of the prison cell, and as he shouted his rival's name, his spit nearly sprayed onto Garp's face.
Yet, neither man cared. Roger locked eyes with Garp, his gaze unwavering. "Our bond was forged through countless battles, and you are as trustworthy to me as my own crewmates."
Suddenly, the flickering oil lamp went out, plunging the prison into darkness. Moments later, the flame rekindled, illuminating the deathly silence of the cell once again.
"You're the one who must protect him," Roger said with his eyes wide, resolutely making his decision.
"Don't make decisions for me!" Garp roared, slamming himself against the iron bars in a fit of rage.
But Roger only responded with an unrestrained, fearless grin. "No, you will help me."
Garp looked at the woman before him, his teeth clenched so tightly that he almost bit through his own lips. With each word carefully chosen, he made his vow: "I will protect this child, Rouge. I will protect the bloodline of Gol D. Roger."
The unexpected answer left Rouge momentarily stunned. She had already prepared herself for the worst but found this to be an unforeseen blessing. She had no doubt about the sincerity of this vice admiral's promise.
It wasn't Garp she placed her trust in but rather her husband's judgment, which she had always believed in without question. The fact that Roger's lifelong rival, Garp, would make such a solemn vow gave her complete confidence.
Roger, during their time together, often complained about the relentless Marine "mad dog" who chased him to the ends of the earth. Yet, with her sharp instincts, Rouge had always sensed a hint of admiration and even joy hidden within those grievances.
With the final burden lifted from her heart, Rouge could finally relax. Exhaustion and pain surged over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. She fought hard to stay conscious, her vision blurring. Gently, she pressed her cheek against her child's face.
"Ace," she softly called out the baby's name. A radiant smile of incomparable happiness graced this great mother's face. Her eyes, however, slowly began to close, and the arms cradling the baby fell limply.
Garp, quick to react, caught the infant in his arms. His voice was filled with urgency as he shouted, "Hang in there, Rouge…" But the mother no longer responded. She lay still, peacefully asleep. A pink flower that had adorned her hair drifted gently to the ground.
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guys , what do you think about these 22 chapters;i need your feedback