In the docks of Water 7, the steady clanging of hammers suddenly ceased.

Tom lowered his hammer, squinting toward the harbor there, a battered but unmistakable red warship was limping slowly into port.

"Master?" the young Iceburg looked up, puzzled. "Is that...?"

Tom's cigar fell from his mouth with a soft plop. A vein throbbed on his forehead.

"RO—GER!!!"

His furious roar startled Franky so badly he sprayed cola everywhere.

"Su~per—! Master's losing it!"

No one on the Roger Pirates crew was weak they all heard Tom loud and clear. Ritter spun on his heel and started heading indoors. No way was he sticking around. As a kid, he'd been on the receiving end of Uncle Tom's lectures more than once.

Now? Ritter was sure just poking his head out might get him decked.

"Let go of me, you bastard captain!"

Roger had thrown his arms around Ritter's leg, refusing to let go.

"Little Ritter, help me out! You can't seriously let me face the scolding alone!"

Just picturing Uncle Tom's fists made Ritter shiver.

"You get lost. I'm going inside!"

"No way unless you knock me off first!"

By the time the Oro Jackson finally docked, Tom was already waiting on the pier, brandishing a thick wooden beam. The moment Roger's head popped up

WHAM!

"OW! Uncle Tom!" Roger clutched his head.

"Don't 'Uncle' me!" Tom's shout sent the nearby seagulls scattering.

"That ship my masterpiece! My life's work! And you turn it into this?!"

Hiding behind Rayleigh, Ritter tried to explain in a whisper, "We ran into some serious trouble... you've heard of Golden Lion, right? We had a full-on battle—"

"Battle?!" Tom grabbed Ritter by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "A battle justifies turning my ship into this wreck? Look at these scars! Look at these dents!"

In the nearby dockyard, Iceburg and Franky stood frozen, mouths agape.

"That's the legendary Roger Pirates?"

Iceburg adjusted his glasses. "They trashed Master's proudest creation like that... they're doomed. Master on a rampage is terrifying."

Franky's eyes sparkled.

"Su~per cool—! That red-caped guy must be the Super Pirate!"

As the repairs got underway, Tom's fury slowly gave way to something else barely concealed pride.

"You see this?" He pointed at a savage gash in the ship's hull. "That's a direct hit from Golden Lion's Chikiri Valley. Any normal ship would've been split in two. But my ship? Just lost a bit of paint! This vessel is worthy of carrying the Roger Pirates anywhere."

Franky leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Master! This scar is super special!"

Iceburg, more observant, noticed the dense pattern of marks along the hull. "These... are Sea-Prism Stone shells?"

"Exactly!" Tom stroked his beard, pleased. "Ritter told me Golden Lion brought Sea-Prism Stone shells just for them."

He patted the ship's side with pride.

"And yet my ship stayed afloat! I can't even imagine the kind of battle they went through to end up like this."

Franky stared at the still-mighty Oro Jackson, battered but unbowed, his eyes shining with admiration.

That was the moment he made up his mind: one day, he would build the greatest ship in the world one that surpassed even his master's.

Late that night, Tom worked alone in the shipyard, hammering away. Ritter crept closer and found him quietly repairing the Oro Jackson.

"That's...?"

"Sea-Prism Stone fibers," Tom muttered without looking up. "The keel's made of Treasure Tree Adam, and I chose only the sturdiest wood for the rest but in the end, nothing's tougher than Sea-Prism Stone."

Ritter stared in awe. "You're planning to..."

"Hmph. Spencer gave me plenty of Berries enough to upgrade the Oro Jackson."

Tom lit a new cigar.

"Now stop talking. If you let my ship end up like this again—"

He pointed at a corner of the workshop, where an unfinished figurehead sat.

"I'll carve you into that!"

Ritter finally noticed the rough sculpture and gave a nervous laugh. "Uncle, that joke's colder than the Calm Belt... Next time, go yell at Roger! I'm just a foot soldier, hehehe."

Cut to: Ku! Slash! High-level repair montage! (I really feel like I should pad the word count here.)

—

When the repairs were finished, the Oro Jackson looked brand new. Before they left, Tom pulled Roger aside.

"Listen. Next time you run into Golden Lion..."

He lowered his voice.

"R am him with the figurehead. I reinforced it with a special alloy, and wrapped it in a layer of Sea-Prism Stone. Let that bastard see what happens when he messes with my ship."

Roger burst into laughter.

"Gahahaha! I'll make sure of it!"

As the people of Water 7 looked on, the Oro Jackson set sail once more. Franky waved wildly from the docks.

"Su~per—! Go become the Pirate King!"

Tom folded his arms, nodding proudly.

"Go on, pirates worthy of my masterpiece."

—

Ritter and Laboon didn't board the Oro Jackson. Instead, they stayed behind in Water 7.

Today, Ritter would depart he had a promise to keep. He was going to the Florian Triangle to search for Brook. Of course, he'd told Laboon that it was just an attempt; no one really knew where Brook was drifting out there.

They were supposed to bring Crocus too, but the old doctor refused. Said he had to stay and fulfill his duties as ship's physician.

But Ritter could tell. Crocus had discovered something he didn't say it, but it was clear. Right now, all Ritter could do was trust him.

The Roger Pirates had originally planned to help with the search, but Ritter turned them down. Crocus hadn't explained, but Ritter trusted his gut.

Forget the unpleasant stuff. Let them chase their adventure.

Ritter and Laboon sat at the edge of the dock, watching the Oro Jackson disappear into the horizon.

"Missing them already?" Ritter rubbed Laboon's huge head.

Laboon nodded... then shook his head. He used a flipper to draw a musical note in the sand.

"Don't worry," Ritter said softly. "We'll find Brook. Even if not this time... someday, we will."

Laboon nudged Ritter's hand with his nose, then pointed to the sea.

"You want to leave now?" Ritter blinked. "You know the Florian Triangle's super creepy, right?"

"Moo! (Not scared!)" Laboon tipped his top hat, eyes firm.

Ritter grinned.

"All right, then! Let's go now!"

The small boat slowly pulled away from Water 7.

"Next stop Florian Triangle!"

"Moo—moo—moo!"

"Little Laboon, why've you been moo-ing so much lately? Try saying real words!"

"Chu—" Laboon tried to speak, but only managed one syllable.

"Pfft—hahahaha! That's what you get for not talking much. Chu chu chu!"

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