[It is important to read the note for this chapter]
As soon as Luka approached the Sabaody Archipelago, he assumed his usual stance: he raised his hand slightly, and the two ships—his own and the one carrying the gold—lifted steadily into the sky, like two silent masses hovering above the sea at a safe height. He left them there as he did on every island; out of sight, beyond the reach of the greedy.
Then he jumped alone onto the floating dock.
The archipelago was unlike any island he had known. The place looked like a gigantic forest floating above the water, colossal mangrove trees rising from the depths like heavenly columns, their trunks wider than entire houses, exuding massive soap bubbles that slowly ascended into the sky like glowing glass spheres. Some passed beside Luka, hitting the sea surface before exploding in a shimmering spray.
The air of Sabaody was heavy with sea moisture, yet loaded with strange scents: the smell of mangrove leaves, cold breezes flowing from within the roots, and the aromas of food drifting from crowded alleys atop wooden platforms. Everything here shone… moved… and breathed.
The clamor of the archipelago gradually reached his ears—the voices of merchants, travelers' footsteps, and the whistling of wind passing through natural tunnels in the giant trees.
Luka stood on the dock, staring at the rising bubbles around him and the crowded pathways stretching over the mangrove trunks. The place was vibrant… full of secrets… and beneath this vitality, something mysterious lurked, watching every step of those who walked carelessly.
He smiled lightly, hands in his pockets.
Luka walked slowly along the long wooden walkway, watching the bubbles rise beside him like transparent guards, every step echoing on the giant mangrove roots.
But he wasn't here for sightseeing… nor for leisure.
He was here for only one purpose.
He stopped near a natural glass barrier formed within a mangrove trunk, his reflection shimmering on it, eyes radiating an intensity unbefitting his young age. Then he whispered to himself, in a low, steady voice, as if signing a promise:
"Rayleigh… King of Darkness. Former Deputy Pirate King."
He lifted his head toward the sky where his ships floated, as if silently watching his journey.
"This world is vast. If I want to enter the New World through its great doors… if I want to face the characters waiting for me… there is no better mentor than him."
He continued through the alleys illuminated by the glowing bubbles, drops of moisture falling from mangrove trunks onto his shoulders, without losing focus.
"Rayleigh… the man who trained Luffy… can refine my strength, make my Devil Fruit even deadlier, and can help me become the person I dream to be."
He smiled a small, tilted smile, tinged with challenge.
"I will find him… whether he is polishing ships, drinking in a bar, or hiding as he thinks."
A bubble rose behind him and burst with a faint glow.
"And I will train under him… by whatever means necessary to convince him."
Then he continued among the mangrove trunks…
and the whole archipelago had now become the first threshold toward the power he sought.
Luka walked between the mangrove trunks, nudging small bubbles under his feet that popped beneath his soles, while his mind worked faster than his steps. He wasn't just going in search of Rayleigh… he was already thinking about how to convince him to train him.
He stopped at a high platform among the trees, the green light filtering from a mangrove trunk casting pale shadows across his face. He leaned his hand on the wooden railing and exhaled slowly.
"Rayleigh is not an easy man to deal with… and he won't train me just because I ask for it."
Then he began planning, one step at a time.
The first… gold.
A small smile appeared on his lips.
"I have enough gold for Rayleigh to live the rest of his life in luxury with Shakky. If Rayleigh is like any old man who enjoys a peaceful life… I can tempt him with tons of it."
But he quickly shook his head.
"But the problem with Rayleigh… I don't think he is the type driven by money."
He stepped forward and continued thinking.
"The second plan… Ace."
His steps paused for a moment, his gaze becoming more serious.
"Rayleigh was the Deputy Pirate King… and Roger was his captain.
If I tell him that I know something about his captain's son… about Ace… maybe he will care."
A brief silence passed before he continued internally:
"I'll make it seem like I have sensitive information… something that will at least make him listen to me."
Then Luka smiled a wider, slightly mischievous smile.
"And if those two methods fail…"
He lifted his head toward the dark sky, where his ships floated far above the trees.
"The third plan… the great lie."
He lowered his voice, as if speaking to an invisible shadow in front of him:
"I will tell him I saw a dream… a dream I saw clearly, where I trained under him… and that I helped the Going Merry in the great coming battle."
This was no mere talk.
Luka knew the future events from the original story… he knew a great war was coming, he knew the world's players… and he had a vast amount of details to weave a lie that would seem as real as legendary prophecies.
"I will describe things that no one could know… characters, deeds, deaths… I will say I saw them all in a dream."
He stopped at the edge of a high platform overlooking the city lights flowing below the mangroves, as if the whole world shimmered beneath his feet.
"Rayleigh is a wise man… but even the wise listen if they think they are facing a prophecy."
Luka tightened the strap of his money-filled bag behind his back.
"He will accept… one way or another, he will accept."
Then he turned and headed toward the heart of the archipelago, where bars, ship repair yards, and strange faces that might know where the King of Darkness was hiding were scattered.
And with every step, his three plans replayed in his mind…
Luka moved between the mangrove trunks with calm steps, while the archipelago's light reflected on the water's surface in tiny sparks. He didn't want his presence to draw more attention than the newspapers already had…
He entered a narrow commercial walkway between two trunks, filled with a mix of wet wood and ship oil scents, and people moving quickly between repair workshops and small shops.
He didn't want to go straight to Shakky; he would search here first.
He approached a bald man wearing thick glasses, polishing paintbrushes on a table covered in stains.
Luka said quietly:
"Excuse me… I heard there's an old man here skilled at painting ships. I was told he works near this area."
The man raised his head, scrutinized him for a moment, then shrugged indifferently.
"The old man who paints ships? Haha… we all paint ships here, boy."
"I mean the old man… the one they say is the best among them. His name is Rayleigh."
The man wiped the sweat from his forehead and spoke in a slightly less playful tone:
"Hmmm… if you mean Rayleigh… then there's one."
Luka tilted his head slightly:
"Where can I find him?"
The man pointed with his finger to a side street.
"Walk toward the street that ends at Trunk 41. There's a bar… called 'Shakky's Bar.' Ask there. The old man you're looking for is always there."
Luka pretended not to know the name.
"Shakky's Bar?"
"Yes… if you're lucky… you might find him there."
Luka thanked him and left, but the man watched him for a few moments, as if trying to recall where he had seen this boy before.
---
Luka continued walking through the narrow passage, while the city's noise rose as he approached busier areas. Lantern lights reflected on the water beneath his feet, and the thick air of resin and oil confirmed he was in the right place.
Shakky's Bar.
The outline of the scene became clearer. His target was in front of him, but the path to it was filled with eyes watching, and people noticing more than they should.
He arrived at a bar located on a small hill with no other shops or anything beside it.
"Sha•cky's Bar."
He gazed at it for a moment, then smiled quietly.
Then he pushed the door and entered.
As soon as Luka opened Shakky's Bar door, he heard the familiar metallic chime that always came from the old tavern door. The place was unusually quiet; warm, soft lighting, wooden tables arranged simply, and colorful bottles lined up behind the bar. The place looked exactly like in the anime… warm, clean, and smelled like a mix of old wood and gentle tobacco.
Behind the bar… stood Shakky.
A tall woman, with dark black hair reaching her shoulders, always holding a thin cigarette between her fingers, and a languid gaze that missed no detail. She wore a stylish black vest over a white shirt, her steps calm, and her smile appeared only when she decided it would.
She lifted her head as he entered, her calm eyes sharpening for a brief moment… then returning to normal.
Luka sat on the high stool opposite her, resting his arm on the table as if he were a regular visitor.
He spoke to her in a tone free of tension: "Give me… something light."
She exhaled a thin stream of smoke upwards, then leaned slightly as she opened a bottle. "A little boy… asking for something light? Not something I see every day."
She poured him a fizzy drink that didn't seem alcoholic so much as a sharp mixture of archipelago juices. She placed it in front of him, then tilted her head to the side, smiling slightly as if she remembered something.
"You know… I've been keeping an eye on the newspapers recently." She pointed a finger at him.
"There's a boy… a bit troublesome… causing a lot of mischief on some islands."
Luka didn't reply; he just gave a short smile as he raised the glass and sipped slowly.
Shakky stepped forward, rested her elbows on the table, and leaned toward him like someone who knows something no one else does: "You look a lot like him."
He answered calmly: "Maybe."
She laughed lightly: "I have a long experience in knowing who enters this place… and in recognizing troublesome people in particular."
Then she extinguished her cigarette, staring at him more intently.
"Tell me, boy… did you come looking for Rayleigh?"
Luka paused for a moment… but didn't show surprise. He placed the glass down, then said in a low tone, tinged with respect: "I came looking for an old man… who paints ships."
Shakky raised an eyebrow, a spark of old understanding in her eyes: "You're clever… trying to be even cleverer."
Luka leaned slightly forward, his voice lowering further: "I wouldn't have asked about Rayleigh directly. I'm not here to bother him…"
Her gaze grew more attentive.
Luka continued, playing with his finger on the rim of the glass:
"And you too… you have a history greater than it seems."
She slowly lifted her head… not angry, but surprised by his boldness.
"Many pirates… went to God Valley looking for you." Luka said.
"Because the government was chasing you back then… and that was one of the reasons that war ignited."
Any trace of humor disappeared from Shakky's eyes.
Luka added: "You were one of the threads that drew some pirates to that island. Your presence there… was not a simple event."
Shakky stared at him for several seconds. He could feel her thinking deeply, not expecting a young man—no matter who—to know these details.
Finally… she smiled.
The real smile this time, the one rarely shown in the anime.
"You're not just a boy coming to ask a favor from Rayleigh."
She said, placing her hand on her cheek and sitting directly across from him.
"You know things… that few know."
Luka raised his eyes to her confidently: "You wouldn't want to know the other things I know."
Shakky grabbed another bottle, poured herself a drink, then raised the glass to him:
"Alright, boy… looks like tonight won't be ordinary."
She then nodded toward the back door.
"If you're looking for him… he's not far."
Her last words came in a soft… gentle tone… with that crooked sweetness resembling her tilted smile.
Luka didn't react, but he listened carefully to the last sentence.
Then he moved from his seat. Shakky nodded toward the back door:
"He's fixing something in the yard… if you want to meet him, now is a good time."
And she gave a light smile carrying a hint of slyness:
"Just… try not to upset him."
Luka passed by silently. Before he opened the door, she said lightly, as if joking:
"I don't know what you want from him, but if he says no… don't be surprised. He says no to everyone."
---
---
"Sha•cky's Bar"
He stared at it for a moment, then smiled quietly.
Then he pushed the door and entered.
As soon as Luka pushed open the door of Shakky's bar, he heard that light metallic chime that always comes from the old bar door. The place was unusually quiet; warm soft lighting, wooden tables arranged simply, and colorful bottles lined up behind the bar. The place was exactly as it appeared in the anime… warm, clean, with a scent blending old wood and faint tobacco.
Behind the counter… stood Shakky.
A tall woman, with dark black hair reaching her shoulders, a thin cigarette always between her fingers, and a lazy gaze that missed no detail. She wore a stylish black vest over a white shirt, her steps were calm, and her smile appeared only when she chose it.
She lifted her head as soon as he entered, and her calm eyes became more alert for a brief moment… then returned to normal.
Luka sat on the high stool across from her, resting his arm on the counter as if he were a regular visitor.
He said to her in a tone devoid of tension: "Give me… something light."
She exhaled a thin smoke upward, then leaned slightly as she opened one of the bottles. "A young boy… asking for something light? Not a sight I see every day."
She poured him a fizzy drink that didn't seem alcoholic but more like a sharp mix of archipelago juices. She placed it in front of him and then tilted her head to the side, smiling slightly as if she had remembered something.
"You know… I've been watching the newspapers lately," she said, pointing her finger at him.
"There's a boy… a bit annoying… causing a lot of trouble on some islands."
Luka didn't respond; he only gave a short smile while slowly sipping from the glass.
Shakky stepped closer, rested her elbows on the counter, and leaned toward him as if sharing a secret nobody else knew: "You resemble him a lot."
He replied calmly: "Maybe."
She laughed lightly: "I have a long experience in knowing who enters this place… and especially recognizing annoying people."
Then she put out her cigarette as she stared at him more intently.
"Tell me, boy… are you here looking for Rayleigh?"
Luka paused for a moment… but didn't show any surprise. He placed the glass in front of him, then said in a low tone, with a hint of respect: "I came looking for an old man… who paints ships."
Shakky raised one eyebrow, a spark of old understanding in her eyes: "You're clever… trying to be cleverer."
Luka leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered even more: "I wouldn't ask about Rayleigh honestly. I'm not here to bother him…."
Her gaze became more interested.
Luka continued, playing with his finger on the edge of the glass:
"And you too… have a history bigger than it seems."
She slowly raised her head… not angry, but surprised by his audacity.
"Many pirates… went to God Valley looking for you." said Luka.
"Because the government was after you back then… and that was one of the reasons that ignited that war."
Any trace of jest disappeared from Shakky's eyes.
Luka added: "You were one of the threads that attracted some pirates to that island. Your presence there… was no small event."
Shakky stared at him for several seconds. He could feel that she was thinking deeply, that she did not expect a young man—no matter how capable—to know these details.
Finally… she smiled.
A real smile this time, the kind that appeared in the anime only with very few people.
"You're not just a boy who came to ask Rayleigh for a favor."
She said this while placing her hand on her cheek and sitting directly across from him.
"You know things… only a few know."
Luka raised his eyes to hers confidently: "You wouldn't want to know the other things I know."
Shakky pulled out another bottle, poured herself a drink, then raised the glass toward him:
"Alright, boy… it seems tonight won't be ordinary."
Then she nodded toward the back door.
"If you're looking for him… he's not far."
Shakky's last words were soft… gentle… with that twisted kindness resembling her tilted smile.
Luka didn't react, but he listened carefully to her final sentence.
Then he moved from his seat. Shakky nodded her head toward the back door:
"He's fixing something in the yard… if you want to meet him, now's a good time."
And she smiled a gentle smile carrying a hint of mischief:
"Just… try not to ruin his mood."
Luka passed by her silently. Before opening the door, she said lightly, as if joking:
"I don't know what you want from him, but if he says no… don't be surprised. He says no to everyone."
---
The Back Yard of Shakky's Bar
The backyard was quiet, lit by mangrove bubble lights reflecting sky-like colors on the wooden floor. The smell of oil and salt filled the air.
And in the middle of the yard…
stood a man.
Tall, white-haired tied back, his coat half-open, wiping the frame of a small ship with a brush as if it were ordinary… not knowing he was a legend living in the shadows.
He lifted his head slowly as he sensed Luka's steps, then returned to what was in his hand without concern.
He said without looking:
"If you came to paint a ship, come back later."
Luka took a step forward:
"I didn't come for a ship."
Rayleigh paused for a second… then set the brush aside and turned.
His eyes were calm, neither hostile nor curious… just the tranquility of a man who sees farther than words.
Luka spoke directly:
"I want you to take me as your student."
Rayleigh did not laugh.
He did not smile.
He just replied simply, killingly:
"No."
He said it as if refusing a cup of tea.
Then he turned his back, picking up his tools again.
Luka did not move.
He remained silent for a moment, then said:
"At least… hear—"
Rayleigh interrupted him in a steady tone, without harshness… but decisive:
"I have no desire to train anyone. Nor do I have time to turn small problems into bigger ones."
The sentence was precise… as if Rayleigh, with his expert eyes, saw the ambition and strength Luka held before he even opened his mouth.
He continued while bending over the ship frame again:
"Even if you're strong… even if you're special… this is a path I will not walk again."
He raised his head slightly, giving Luka a brief… but deep look.
"Look for another teacher."
Then he returned to his work, as if Luka's presence… were just a passing breeze.
And so… came the first refusal.
And the real battle… had begun now.
The sound of the brush gliding over wood was the only thing filling the yard.
A simple sound… but enough to intensify the silence between them.
Luka did not leave.
He stood there, staring at the man in front of him… the man who could have opened a new door of power for him, yet closed it with a single word.
But Luka was not the type to give up at the word "no."
He stepped closer.
The wooden floor creaked lightly beneath his feet.
"You refuse before even hearing the reason?"
Rayleigh did not lift his head.
But in a calm, confident tone, as if explaining something simple:
"Because reasons don't matter to me.
Those who want to grow stronger… will do so without a teacher. And those who don't… no master will help them."
Luka felt a slight provocation in the words… but it wasn't an insult.
It was the philosophy of a man who had lived life more than anyone else.
He said quietly, countering:
"Not everyone finds a teacher capable of refining them the right way."
Rayleigh paused for a moment… then raised his head and looked at him.
This time… his eyes held something closer to evaluation.
"You're strong… but not impatient enough to ask for training from a man like me.
Something else drives you to me."
Luka said nothing.
Rayleigh continued confidently:
"Something you want to prepare for."
He returned to his work as if saying something ordinary.
Luka let out a slow sigh.
Rayleigh had understood a part of his inner concern in seconds… proof that he was the right man.
Yet he still refused.
Luka decided to play his first card… but carefully.
Not the golden card yet… just something simpler.
He sat on a nearby wooden crate, deliberately showing he would not leave.
He said in a measured voice: "You said no… and I respected that.
But I won't leave until I hear 'why'."
Rayleigh smiled a short, faintly sarcastic smile. As if he had found some amusement.
"This depends on you, boy.
Convince me… it's not easy."
Then he returned to his work.
But the sound of the brush this time… was slower.
And its meaning was clear:
Rayleigh had begun to listen.
The silence this time… was different… not a silence of refusal, nor of expulsion. But a silence of a man waiting to hear what the boy who didn't run from the first "no" would say.
Luka felt it immediately.
He straightened, resting his arms on his knees, and spoke in a calm voice, as if narrating something unimportant… though it was the most important part of his plan now:
"I won't take long… I'll start with the simplest thing."
Rayleigh didn't turn, but paused for two seconds… enough for Luka to know the words had landed.
Luka took from his small bag something… not a box, nor a pouch.
But a large, heavy gold piece, shining like molten light.
He placed it on the wooden table beside him.
It made no loud sound… yet produced a sound no one from the New World would miss:
The sound of true wealth.
"I own tons of this."
He said coldly, without any display.
Rayleigh did not look—yet a small muscle in his cheek twitched.
He didn't care about money… but he was not blind. He knew instantly that this wasn't ordinary market gold… it was a special kind, only found in distant lands.
Luka continued:
"I can give you a fortune that would allow you and Shakky to live a full life without work… without effort… to live as you wish."
Rayleigh smiled lightly, mockingly, but didn't return to painting.
He said:
"Do you think I'd train someone… because he has money?"
Luka shook his head immediately:
"No. I know you're not like that.
But I didn't say that's your reason… I said it's something I can offer."
He slowly returned the gold piece to his bag… deliberately, so Rayleigh would know it wasn't a desperate attempt.
He added:
"I'm not buying you, Rayleigh.
I'm trying to show that I am capable of commitment… of paying… and providing whatever you or Shakky may need at any moment."
Rayleigh exhaled through his nose as if laughing silently.
Then he said:
"Shakky loves money… yes. But me? I don't care for it."
Luka looked him straight in the eyes and said confidently, making Rayleigh stop moving:
"If it's not money that drives you…
perhaps it's history."
Rayleigh's brush froze on the wood.
Luka pronounced the name he knew would shake the Dark King's heart, even if hidden:
"Roger's son."
This time… Rayleigh slowly turned.
Very slowly. And his eyes were cautious, something not seen a few seconds ago.
But Luka didn't smile.
He said in a calm, straight, clear voice:
"I know things… that nobody knows.
And I need to talk to you about Roger's son."
Rayleigh took a step toward him.
Just one step… but it was the step of a man no longer refusing conversation.
Luka realized now… he had entered the heart of the matter.
Entered the zone no one touches, nor should anyone touch.
But that's exactly what made him special.
Rayleigh slowly turned toward Luka, his face more serious than any moment since entering the place. He was not angry… but seemed to hear the echo of a past he thought he had buried long ago.
He wiped his hand with a cloth, then stepped forward steadily until he stood directly in front of Luka. His ash-gray eyes stared as if trying to read under his skin.
He said in a soft, yet sharp voice: "You… say you know something about… that man's son."
He did not mention Roger's name. No need for that.
He continued, narrowing his eyes:
"I already know he was to be blessed with a child… before he surrendered.
But his name… gender… location… everything else? Roger never told me."
Luka raised his gaze slowly, maintaining his composure against the Dark King's stare.
Rayleigh said, crossing his arms: "So tell me now… how does a boy like you know something no one else does?"
Luka didn't answer immediately. He only allowed a short, deliberate pause, then said:
"Because I… met him."
Rayleigh's eye corner twitched for a moment. His body didn't move… but his spirit trembled noticeably.
He stepped another step closer, his voice lowering: "You met… the child? Roger's son…?"
Luka only gave a look carrying calm confidence, as if what he was saying was not a riddle—but a simple fact.
Rayleigh said, his tone swinging between heavy doubt and deadly curiosity: "That… is enough to make me listen."
He slowly sat on a nearby wooden chair and gestured for Luka to do the same.
"Alright, boy…" he said, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyebrows knit with full concentration.
"Tell me everything."
This was the moment… the moment the door opened for the first time—the door that might make Rayleigh agree to train him…
Luka shrugged lightly, then said in a low but firm voice, as if narrating a story he knew the man in front of him would listen to:
"His name… is Ace. But he doesn't use his real name. He uses his mother's name to disguise himself, to distance from everything related to his father Roger."
Luka paused a moment, watching Rayleigh's reaction. The man didn't move, but he seemed genuinely interested.
"He hates his father… only knows him through stories, and chooses to stay away from his legacy." Luka continued, his voice steady: "He has an adoptive brother… the two of them together caused a lot of trouble in Goa Kingdom."
Rayleigh raised an eyebrow, his tone softening slightly: "And how did you know all this?"
Luka smiled a small smile, confident, yet without revealing the real reason:
"I saw him… there, in the East Blue, I encountered him in Goa Kingdom because I am also from the East Blue…"
Rayleigh looked at him with eyes shining a hint of curiosity and admiration: "Roger's son… that's something interesting."
Luka added calmly, without disclosing his intent to protect Ace:
"I wanted you to know I am not just seeking training… but seeking someone who can teach me how to deal with someone leaving a huge legacy… and bigger problems."
Rayleigh turned his head back to the ship, then looked at Luka with a short, unexpected smile:
"Alright… seems you know how to pique my curiosity, boy."
The backyard fell silent for a moment, but the sound of the brush was no longer a hindrance. This time… Rayleigh was truly listening.
Luka continued talking about Ace.
Rayleigh slowly lifted his head, looking at Luka with stern eyes, his voice as steady as iron:
"You know something about Roger's son… and that's interesting… but it doesn't change my conviction."
He paused, placing the paintbrush back in his hand, yet he did not start working. He continued in a cold voice:
"I won't train you. Nothing can change this decision. I've said it before… but considering what you've told me about Ace, I'll give you some advice."
Luka gave a small smile, but felt frustrated. Every card he had prepared so far had failed. Now he had only one last option… the option he hadn't easily planned for: t
he big lie, the trick that would make Rayleigh yield despite all his reservations, even if he had to weave it carefully to appear like a true prophecy.
Luka raised his head confidently, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he thought to himself:
"Alright… if neither money, nor history, nor curiosity is enough… then there will be a third option."
[It is important to read the note for this chapter]