One Piece: Surrounded at Marineford? Just kidding!

Chapter 497: Unless you bring her along!

In the center of the ruins.

Ace gripped Roger's collar tightly with both hands.

Roger was half-lifted into the air, their faces extremely close together.

Ace asked him, "You're not fighting back or defending, do you really want me to kill you?"

Roger's Adam's apple bobbed.

There was no struggle.

He stared at his own son, who was filled with rage.

"cough."

He was panting heavily, and with his remaining strength, he managed to speak.

"You can kill me, that's fine with me."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was very clear. There were no fancy words, no grandstanding like that of a pirate king, and no attempt to excuse himself.

It paused for half a second.

because!

"This is what I deserve."

Ace's pupils suddenly contracted.

He clenched his teeth. The flames on his right fist flared up, distorting his face with an orange-red light.

Clearly, Ace did not approve of Roger's method!

But that was Roger's choice.

Roger looked into his eyes and, with the last of his strength, uttered half a sentence.

"I'm sorry, Rouge, and I'm sorry to you too."

The name "Rouge" reached Ace's ears.

This instantly triggered Ace.

Ace's grip on his collar tightened suddenly.

The face that comes to mind isn't the one in front of me.

Instead, it was a woman he vaguely remembered who he had never met.

The South China Sea. A remote fishing village. No doctor. No medicine. The World Government's search party was searching high and low, while the woman named Portgas Rouge gritted her teeth and endured carrying her child for twenty months.

She slowly drained away her life, bit by bit.

All for the sake of enabling him to successfully make his move in this world.

Ace felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his chest. It hurt more than if he'd been cut with a knife.

His right fist, which he had already raised towards Roger's temple, froze in mid-air.

But the punch never landed.

Roger watched his son freeze in place, seeing the tears welling up in his eyes. His heart ached too.

He raised one hand.

That hand was covered in mud and blood. It was the hand that had wielded the Supreme Grade Sword "Ace," slaying countless enemies and making the entire New World tremble.

But now it's just the hand of a failed father.

His fingers were trembling. He reached towards Ace's wrist. He wanted to touch his son. Just once. Even through his clothes.

The movement stopped just as the fingertips were about to touch Ace's skin.

He saw the flames dancing on Ace's arm. He saw the defensiveness and hatred in those eyes.

The light in his eyes went out.

He's not qualified. His hands are stained with the blood of countless people, yet he's never held his own wife and children. He doesn't deserve to touch Ace.

His hand fell limply to his side.

Roger stopped looking Ace in the eyes. He spoke in a low voice, his voice filled with a weariness that seemed to seep from the very marrow of his bones.

"I'm kneeling here today not to beg for your forgiveness."

respite.

But the point was made very clearly.

"I'm not here to take my son back. I just can't keep hiding from this debt any longer."

An apology is an apology. He doesn't expect forgiveness. He cuts those two things cleanly. You can hate me, you can hit me, I won't fight back, and I dare not ask for your forgiveness.

I'm here to settle accounts.

These words didn't calm Ace down; instead, they made him even more agitated.

He stared at Roger's face, which was covered in blood and ash, and at the way the other man confessed his guilt without fighting back, refusing to retaliate, or even caring about death.

The fire burned even brighter.

Roger didn't even give him a reason to hate. He didn't even give him a chance to retaliate.

He stared at Roger!

One punch. Just one more inch forward. And that would end this man. That would completely sever the source of all the misfortune that had befallen him.

one second.

two seconds.

three seconds.

Hundreds of eyes were fixed on that burning fist. The wind even stopped.

Ace's eyes were red-rimmed. His body was trembling.

Finally, he closed his eyes.

boom.

Release your hands.

He exerted his strength and threw Roger back into the pile of rocks.

Roger flew through the air. His back slammed against the half-collapsed wall again, bricks and stones raining down, burying half his body once more. A muffled groan escaped his lips.

Ace straightened up using the reaction force.

He raised the back of his hand and vigorously wiped his face.

When he opened his eyes again, most of the anger on his face had subsided.

But his eyes remained cold.

Looking down at Roger amidst the ruins, he spoke, panting.

"Consider today's beating as partial repayment."

He gritted his teeth and continued.

"I don't want to torture myself with your broken bloodline anymore."

The words landed.

He drew the first line clearly. He no longer used "son of the Pirate King" as a shackle. He let go of himself. He stopped chasing after that illusory bloodline shadow with murderous hatred.

Roger lay in the rubble. His body shuddered.

He realized it. Ace was cutting him off.

But he didn't finish his sentence.

Ace suddenly raised his right hand, his index finger pointing straight out like a knife. An even heavier blow was about to fall.

"But you want me to acknowledge you?"

sneer.

"You want me to call you father?"

impossible.

Never!

There is no room for negotiation. There is no room for compromise.

thump.

The voice just fell.

White beard. Edward Newgate. Holding the Murakumogiri sword in one hand, the hilt slamming heavily onto the rocky ground.

The ground cracked open. Cracks spread out in all directions. Invisible shockwaves spread along the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust.

The white-bearded man didn't speak.

He stood behind Ace, like an iron tower. This gesture conveyed only one meaning: My son says he doesn't acknowledge it, and that's final. Anyone who utters a single extra word can ask my knife.

Ace paused for a moment.

My whole body was trembling violently.

He stared intently into Roger's eyes.

He spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Unless you bring my mother back."

The central plaza of the entire Future Island.

died.

Even the softest breath became noise. The air seemed to have been sucked away. Everyone was stunned into silence, unable to move.

In the distance. On a wooden crate. Shanks' glass hovered in mid-air. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, a few drops spilling onto the back of his hand; he didn't react. His usually smiling eyes sank to the bottom.

He knew it all too well.

A dead end. No solution.

In the shadows, the dragon's face darkened completely. He remained silent.

The white-bearded man maintained his stance, holding the sword. He didn't parry. His eyes narrowed, and he gave Roger a deep look at the ground. A complex emotion flashed in his eyes.

Even Rocks shut up.

He stared at Roger's defeated face, without uttering a single sarcastic remark. Because, in the face of those words, mockery was meaningless.

The dead cannot return. Time cannot be reversed.

Ace threw away his only chance of survival, effectively closing off all of Roger's paths.

Ace didn't wait for anyone to answer.

Without giving Roger another glance, he abruptly turned around and strode out of the pit.

His steps were incredibly fast. He walked as if he were fleeing, as if a second's delay would drag him back into the abyss by his own emotions.

It brushed past the white-bearded man, stirring up a gust of hot air.

Whitebeard didn't stop him. Sabo didn't stop him. Luffy opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing and followed Ace's footsteps.

In the deep pit.

Roger lay alone in the cold rubble. Blood stained the soil beneath him.

He turned his head with difficulty. Blood and tears blurred his vision. He watched the figure receding into the distance.

His back was ramrod straight.

And I'm incredibly lonely.

His lips were trembling. He wanted to call out that name.

But no sound came out.

The reckoning, more than twenty years overdue, finally arrived. For the first time, he clearly felt that he didn't even have the right to reach out to that retreating figure.

Redundant.

He could only watch helplessly as his son, bearing that unhealed scar, disappeared from his sight.