Baterilla, South Blue
The sounds of soldier columns marching echoed throughout the island, creating a somber symphony that reverberated through the hearts of its inhabitants. Sorrow and grief engulfed every corner as Marines and World Governnt agents alike completely seized the island. The once peaceful haven was now a fortress of fear and oppression.
In a small, dimly lit house on the outskirts of the village, a mother clutched her infant child tightly to her chest. Her breaths were shallow, and her heart was racing with a mixture of terror and desperation. She could hear the soldiers outside, their boots stomping against the cobblestones, their voices barking orders. Each sound was a harbinger of doom, a reminder of the relentless threat that lood just beyond her door.
The mother, whose na was Amara, had been living in a state of constant dread since the Marines arrived a week ago. At first, they claid to be searching for a dangerous criminal, but it soon beca clear that their true objective was far more sinister. They began isolating and capturing all the won who had given birth to children in the past two years, under the pretense of searching for potential threats to the World Governnt.
Amara’s hands trembled as she tried to hush her baby, whose innocent cries seed like a beacon in the stillness of the night. She rocked the child gently, whispering soothing words that belied the panic in her own heart. "Shh, my love, please be quiet. Mama’s here. Mama will protect you."
She moved cautiously to the window, peeking through a small crack in the wooden shutters. Her eyes scanned the street, now filled with ard soldiers patrolling thodically, their faces devoid of rcy. She had to think fast, had to find a way to keep her baby safe. The very thought of losing her child to these monsters made her blood run cold.
A sudden knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. It was soft, almost hesitant, but in the oppressive silence, it sounded like a thunderclap. Her heart leapt into her throat. She held her breath, hoping against hope that the soldiers would pass by, that they hadn’t heard the baby’s earlier cries.
But the knock ca again, more insistent this ti. Amara knew she couldn’t ignore it. She placed her baby in a small, makeshift crib hidden beneath a pile of blankets, praying that the child would remain silent. Taking a deep breath, she moved toward the door, clutching a kitchen knife, her hands shaking as she reached for the latch.
"Amara, it’s , Liora," ca the hushed reply from the other side. "Please, let in."
Relief washed over Amara as she recognized the voice of her neighbor and dear friend. She quickly unlatched the door and pulled Liora inside, closing it just as swiftly. Liora’s face was pale, her eyes wide with fear.
"I’m sorry, Amara. I’m really sorry," Liora said, her voice trembling. "I need the money. You know how sick my Nathan is. They promised they would not harm the child or you. It’s just a routine checkup..."
Amara froze, not fully understanding what her friend was saying. Before the betrayal could sink in, the door was bashed open, and more than half a dozen Marines rushed in. Amara tried to defend herself, but one of the Marines struck her on the head with a rifle, knocking her to the ground. The sudden commotion disturbed the infant, who started wailing loudly. Liora stood by the side, watching in horror as the Marines began beating Amara, kicking her without rcy.
"You fucking bitch! Were the orders not clear? Everyone with a child is supposed to report to us. Did you expect you could slip past our nets?" A Marine shouted, kicking her in the stomach, making Amara throw up. Despite the pain, she tried to claw her way towards her baby, but the more she struggled, the more ruthless the n beca. One of the Marines casually picked up the infant, not caring for its safety, while the others dragged Amara out of the house.
"My husband! My husband was a Marine, just like you! He died in service. Please, please spare our child," Amara begged, her face bloodied and swollen. One of her eyes was so bruised she could barely see out of it. "Please! Please, I will do anything! You can do anything to . You can take in his stead. Please, please let the child go," she pleaded, her voice breaking.
"See? I told you she was a whore. Who knows who else she’s been sleeping with since her husband died? Maybe even while he was out on duty, she was entertaining patrons," one of the Marines mocked, punching her squarely in the jaw.
"Sir! Sir! I did help you find her. You promised a reward," Liora asked the man who led the soldiers, her voice tinged with desperation. He simply turned to her and gave a mocking grin, then turned to direct the soldiers to the temporary barracks built for the sole purpose of detaining the captured mothers and children. Liora finally realized what she had done and understood that she had been driven by her own desperation and had condemned an innocent mother and child.
The World Governnt’s orders, directly from the Elders, were clear: hunt every mother and child who might have a possibility of being Roger’s spouse and offspring. Even won with husbands were not spared, as there was a chance that Roger could have laid with them. The orders were crystal clear, leaving no room for rcy.
The Governnt didn’t care about killing thousands of innocent infants as long as they denied Roger’s bloodline. This ruthless campaign was not limited to Baterilla; nearby islands where Roger’s presence had been rumored were subjected to similar rciless killings.
Amara was dragged along the rough path, her body bruised and battered, yet she kept her gaze fixed on the Marine holding her baby. Every sob and wail from her child tore at her heart, amplifying her helplessness. She had no strength left to fight, but her fierce love for her child kept her conscious and kept her hoping for a miracle that seed less likely with each passing second.
The temporary barracks lood ahead, a grim structure that seed to embody the despair and hopelessness that had settled over the island. As Amara was thrown into a cell, she clutched at the hem of the Marine’s uniform. "Please... just let hold my baby," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The Marine sneered down at her. "You’ll see the child when we decide it’s ti," he said coldly, slamming the cell door shut.
Amara slumped to the ground, her body wracked with sobs. Outside, the cries of other won and children filled the air, a symphony of despair that echoed her own heartache. She pressed her hand against her chest, where she could still feel the faint heartbeat of hope, a hope that was rapidly fading.
The entire island witnessed the ongoing cruelty, but none dared to question the actions of the Marines. The few examples made during the initial days of slaughter were enough to instill fear in anyone considering defending these innocent won and children. By the end of the first two days, almost everyone on the island knew what happened to the mothers and infants taken to the temporary barracks.
Each night, the massive pyres served as a grim reminder of the Marines’ and World Governnt agents’ tyranny and rcilessness. In just one week, Baterilla had lost more than a thousand innocent souls, yet the hunt didn’t slacken. It only intensified as the Marines were determined to eradicate every last one of them.
**********
anwhile, a few thousand miles away, on a sparsely populated and unnad island with a population of only a few hundred, Rouge was preparing to deliver her child the next day. She had been carrying the pregnancy for close to two years, and she was almost at the end of her endurance.
The Marines had also scoured this island, and as Rouge was still pregnant, she was let go. Because there was no way it could be Roger’s child since Roger had been captured almost two years ago and executed. However, they underestimated Rouge’s will to bring Roger’s blood into the world. A midwife from the village supported her through the pregnancy after Bogard had helped her move to this island under the instructions of Garp.
Within the only small tavern on the island, two n draped in cloaks sat quietly. Cloaked figures were common on this island, as pirates occasionally took refuge there.
A tal tankard was crushed by Garp as he listened to the latest report from Bogard regarding the happenings on other islands in the South Blue. From Bogard’s estimation, more than ten thousand infants had been hunted down in the na of denying the world Roger’s bloodline.
"Can’t we do anything about this, Garp-san? I just want to cut them all down. I can go rogue," Bogard offered, his voice filled with frustration and anger. He could not bear to see the atrocities happening before him. Even on this very island, close to ten infants and mothers had been slaughtered in the na of justice, and they had done nothing but watch as bystanders.
"No, us doing anything now would expose Rouge. We cannot risk her being found. In her current condition, she will not be able to travel," Garp said, his anger palpable as his knuckles popped, the tal tankard tearing into his palm.
He felt disgusted. He had never expected the Marines he served to fall so low. He had to personally intervene to stop Bogard from slaughtering every Marine on that day when they ca to kill infants on this island.
"Garp-san, what exactly are we fighting for?" Bogard finally spoke after a long silence. He had always followed Garp unconditionally, but recently, even a man like him didn’t know what they were fighting for anymore after witnessing the actions of the Marines. He never expected the Marines to have such bloodthirsty n who would slaughter innocent children without blinking an eye.
Just then, Garp’s gaze sharpened dangerously. After a few monts, he relaxed and said, "Kid, if you want to eavesdrop on , you still need to grow up." He didn’t direct the comnt at anyone in particular, and even Bogard was confused about who Garp was talking to. His observation haki didn’t detect any new presences, and the only other person in the tavern was an old bartender who was partially deaf and still grumbling about the more than a dozen tankards Garp had crushed in the past week.
Just as a few monts passed, the tavern door creaked open, drawing Garp’s attention. His gaze t mine, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. It had taken quite so effort to find him. If not for Miyamoto spotting Rouge by coincidence, we might never have discovered their hiding place.
"You are a hard man to find, Garp-san," I said, walking in casually and taking a seat on an empty chair. I turned to Bogard, who was staring at with equal amounts of surprise and shock. "Good to see you too, Bogard-san," I said, greeting him with a nod.
Garp’s expression softened as he took in the sight of his long-lost protege. After Marineford, this was the first ti we had t, and Garp could tell with a single glance that I had grown stronger.
The room was thick with unspoken emotions, a blend of nostalgia, relief, and the heavy weight of the present circumstances. Garp, the man who had been a father figure to , leaned back in his chair, studying with those sharp, discerning eyes that seed to pierce right through to my soul.
"It’s been a while," Garp finally said, his voice gruff but warm. "You’ve co a long way."
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Yes, Garp-san. It’s been quite a journey."
Bogard, who had recovered from his initial shock, leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What brings you here? This isn’t a place one finds by accident."
I smirked and turned to Bogard, noting his attempt to conceal the reason for their presence. However, he didn’t know that I was already aware of Rouge’s situation. "I’m here for the sa reason as you, Bogard-san, but I must say, you Marines sure have beco bloodthirsty. You should be proud of the Marines’ actions in the South Blue recently."
"You..." Bogard began, his voice tight as he struggled to refute my words. But he knew there was nothing he could say to justify the recent atrocities committed by the Marines.
Garp, disregarding my taunt, cut in. "I take it that the samurai was one of your n?"
"Oh, so you did find Miyamoto-san. Well, yes, he is part of the crew," I chuckled. Of course, Miyamoto couldn’t hide from Garp.
Garp’s lips curled into a light smile. "So tell , kid, what makes a pirate like you, with such a hefty bounty, sit so bravely in front of ? Are you so sure I won’t take any action?"
"You are a cold man, Garp-san. We et after all these years, and you want to capture instead of offering a warm welco," I said, my gaze shifting toward the direction where Rouge was. "So, how is she?"
Garp’s expression shifted. "She has been holding her pregnancy for quite a long ti. From what the midwife says, Rouge might not make it."
"Garp-san..." Bogard tried to interject, attempting to stop Garp from talking about Rouge, but Garp waved his hand dismissively.
"It’s alright. I’m sure the kid knows. Roger himself must have told him, otherwise, he wouldn’t have made such a long journey to co here, would he now?" Garp questioned, turning to for confirmation.
I gave him a smile. "Oh! Yes, and before I forget, here, Garp-san." I pulled out an old, tattered Marine coat with two officer epaulets from my ti as a Marine.
"Rember what you told once? That until the day you release , you will consider a Marine? So, I guess it’s ti you released . Especially with what’s been going on around, I don’t think you can defend your so-called Marine Justice anymore, can you?" My tone turned serious.
Garp’s face tightened, and for a mont, the weight of his internal conflict was palpable. The old Marine’s eyes, usually so sharp and discerning, seed clouded with the weight of what he had witnessed and the choices he had made.
Garp sighed deeply, a sound that seed to carry the burden of the world. "You’ve grown strong and wise, kid. Stronger than I ever imagined. The Marines... they’ve strayed far from what I believed in. What I fought for."
"Ross, is this really necessary? You’re already a pirate wanted by the world," Bogard said, his voice tinged with concern. He didn’t want to see his ntor in such a weakened state and tried to intervene.
"Sotis, to move forward, we need closure, Bogard-san," I replied, my gaze steady and unwavering. "I need this to move forward because, who knows, in the future we may very well be fighting on opposite sides."
Garp looked older than I rembered. The once-majestic aura that surrounded him seed diminished, with the weight of his choices and the actions of the Marines bearing heavily on him.
"I understand, kid," Garp said, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of respect. "You’ve grown into a fine man. It’s a sha we find ourselves on opposite paths."
The air between us was thick with unspoken words and mutual respect. Despite the choices we had made, the bond forged through our shared history remained strong. The tavern, with its dim lighting and the faint sll of salt from the nearby sea, felt like a sanctuary, a place where old comrades could reconcile their differences, if only for a mont.
"Do you ever regret it, Garp-san?" I asked, my voice softening. "Do you ever regret choosing the path you did?"
Garp sighed deeply, the sound heavy with years of regret and reflection. "Every day, kid. Every day. But I made my choices, and I have to live with them. Just as you have to live with yours."
*****
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Currently updated until Chapter 221.
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