-Real World-
The timeline didn't add up, and everyone watching the Sky Screen knew it.
Across the world, those familiar with pirate history found themselves grappling with an impossible puzzle. According to established records, Buggy the Clown had only recently separated from Red-Haired Shanks following Roger's execution. The apprentice pirates had gone their separate ways less than a year before Rouge's delivery, both still young, still developing their abilities.
At that point in time, Buggy's Bara Bara no Mi (Chop-Chop Fruit) would have been barely developed beyond basic separation techniques. The idea that such a novice could infiltrate past the Hero of the Marines in his absolute prime was beyond comprehension.
In the Marine Operations Room at Headquarters, the tension reached a breaking point.
"This is absolutely impossible!" Vice Admiral Garp's voice thundered through the chamber as he shot to his feet, his chair clattering backward from the force. Twenty years of accumulated frustration, guilt, and confusion exploded in a single moment of raw emotion.
"I was standing guard outside that door myself!" His massive fist slammed down on the conference table, the reinforced wood groaning under the impact. "I didn't let so much as a fly enter that room! My Observation Haki was at its peak—I could sense a mouse breathing from three miles away!"
The assembled Marine officers watched their former Hero's breakdown with a mixture of sympathy and vindication. For years, some had harbored suspicions about Garp's mysterious absences, his unexplained attachment to certain regions of East Blue. Now, watching him struggle with his own memories, several felt a cruel satisfaction at seeing the legendary figure brought low.
Vice Admiral Onigumo leaned back in his chair with barely concealed smugness. "Finally admitting to harboring the Pirate King's spawn, are we? If you didn't have such a sterling record and powerful connections, you'd have been court-martialed decades ago."
"The protection of Admiral candidates like that Artoria girl," Vice Admiral Doberman added coldly, "is the only thing keeping you from facing a firing squad for treason."
But it was Admiral Sakazuki who provided the most analytical perspective, his magma-powered form radiating heat as he spoke with careful precision.
"Twenty years ago, Buggy the Clown had just awakened his Conqueror's Haki," Sakazuki stated, his voice carrying the authority of personal experience. "I was there during his reveal of true power. Even accounting for potential hidden strength, there are fundamental laws of power development that cannot be ignored."
His eyes burned with absolute conviction. "No matter how talented, there is always a process of growth. The idea that an apprentice pirate could defeat or evade the Hero of the Marines in less than a year of independent training... that's not how strength works, even for those with the rarest talent."
The Admiral's assessment carried weight that silenced the room. If Sakazuki—who had personally fought Buggy and understood his capabilities—declared such a feat impossible, then the mystery only deepened.
-Real World: Red Force-
Aboard the ship of the Red Hair Pirates, Shanks stared at the Sky Screen with an expression of profound confusion that his crew had rarely witnessed. The laid-back Emperor, usually quick with a joke or philosophical observation, sat in stunned silence as memories of his former crewmate collided with impossible revelations.
"Why would Buggy be there?" Shanks muttered, more to himself than to his crew. "The timing barely works, but the strength..." He shook his head, red hair catching the wind. "Even if the dates align, Buggy wasn't strong enough to pull something like that off."
Benn Beckman, his first mate, drew thoughtfully on his cigarette. "You knew him better than anyone during that period. What was his power level when you separated?"
"Decent for an apprentice," Shanks replied honestly. "His Devil Fruit gave him some unique advantages, and he had a good tactical mind when he wasn't being an idiot. But going up against Garp?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "That would have been suicide."
The Yonko's expression grew more serious as he delved deeper into memory. "During those months after the execution, we were all being hunted. The World Government wanted every trace of Roger's crew eliminated—they even went after Tom the Shipwright just for building our ship. For someone like Buggy to show his face near a Marine Hero..."
"Would be like handing himself over for execution," Lucky Roux finished around a mouthful of meat.
"Exactly." Shanks's eyes narrowed as he studied the Sky Screen. "So either Buggy had a death wish, or there's something about that night we don't understand."
-Broadcast-
In the ethereal realm of the underworld, Brook's skeletal form straightened as he observed Ace's dismissive attitude toward the red-nosed pirate. The Soul King's empty sockets seemed to pierce through the young spirit's preconceptions with ancient wisdom.
"You underestimate Buggy the Clown," Brook said, his voice carrying the weight of knowledge that transcended death. "If we're being precise about relationships, he served as your brother's mentor for three years. The Devil Fruit development techniques that Luffy learned—those came from Buggy's teachings."
The revelation hit Ace like a physical blow. Luffy had trained under Buggy? His carefree little brother, learning from the clown pirate he had once dismissed as a joke?
Whitebeard's massive presence shifted as the World's Strongest Man took up the explanation. "The Soul King speaks truth, my son. During the war, I observed Buggy's actions closely. While he appeared to be merely 'playing around' with Dracule Mihawk, I found his behavior... unusual."
The great pirate's eyes grew distant as he recalled that terrible battlefield. "At first, I assumed Mihawk was simply toying with him—the world's greatest swordsman amusing himself with a weak opponent. But after your death, after watching how events unfolded, I realized the truth."
Ace's spiritual form leaned forward, desperate for understanding. The idea that he had misjudged someone so completely gnawed at him like a physical wound.
"Buggy was protecting Luffy," Whitebeard continued, his voice heavy with respect. "Throughout that entire battle, while appearing to engage in pointless combat, he was actually maneuvering to keep your brother safe. When Sakazuki struck you down and turned his attention to Luffy..."
The memory clearly pained the great pirate. "Most of the strong fighters were engaged with their own battles. Garp was paralyzed by conflicting loyalties. In that moment, when that bastard Akainu left his permanent scar across Luffy's chest, it was Buggy who ensured your brother survived."
The words hung in the ethereal air like an indictment of Ace's own perceptions. "Without Buggy's intervention—subtle, hidden, but decisive—Luffy would have died on that battlefield. The red-nosed clown saved your brother's life while making it look like accident and luck."
Ace felt his worldview crumbling around him. Like his father Roger, he had harbored preconceived notions about Buggy's strength, dismissing him as a joke without considering the possibility of hidden depths.
"A man capable of such deception," Whitebeard observed quietly, "could easily have fooled others about his true capabilities twenty years ago. The question isn't whether Buggy could have been present that night—it's how long he had been hiding his real strength."
"But he still shouldn't have been that powerful twenty years ago," Ace protested, though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. "He was just Roger's apprentice. Gramps would never make such a fundamental mistake about an opponent's capabilities."
The Sky Screen flickered, responding to Ace's doubts with the promise of absolute truth. The ethereal display began to shift, reality bending as it prepared to reveal the memories of Portgas D. Rouge herself—the definitive account of that fateful night.
-Broadcast: Twenty Years Ago-
The Memory of Portgas D. Rouge
The scene materialized like a painting come to life: South Blue, an isolated island, rain falling in torrents that seemed to weep for what was to come.
In a modest delivery room, far from any major settlement, a young woman's screams pierced the night. Portgas D. Rouge, barely twenty years old, endured the agony of an impossible birth—twenty months of pregnancy finally reaching its climax. Her body wracked with pain that would have killed most people, but her will remained unbroken.
She was alone, as she had been for months. No doctors, no midwives, no family. Just her determination to bring Roger's children into the world, no matter the cost to herself.
Outside the small building, a figure stood vigil in the driving rain. Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, Hero of the Marines, looked exactly as legends described him in his prime—dark hair instead of gray, face unmarked by the years of compromise and moral complexity that would define his later life. But even in his physical prime, worry etched deep lines around his eyes.
"Come on, Rouge," he whispered to the storm, his usual boisterous confidence replaced by genuine fear. "You've endured twenty months of hell. Don't give up now."
The promise he had made to Roger weighed on him like the world itself. In the Pirate King's final moments, facing execution, he had extracted one last favor from his greatest adversary: Protect my child, Garp. Whatever else happens, give them a chance at life.
It should have been simple. a child, hidden away, raised in secret. But the Marines' systematic slaughter of innocents had made even that basic mercy nearly impossible. Any baby born in the right timeframe was considered a potential threat. The World Government's paranoia had turned maternity wards into hunting grounds.
The screaming from inside stopped abruptly, and Garp's heart nearly stopped with it. "Rouge? Rouge, answer me!"
Then—a sound that made his eyes water with relief. Not one baby's cry, but two distinct voices, wailing with the outrage of new life forced into a cruel world.
"Twins?" Garp's weather-beaten face broke into a genuine smile despite the circumstances. "Ha! Roger, you magnificent bastard. Even in death, you find ways to complicate everything."
From inside came Rouge's voice, weak but unmistakably alive: "Garp... please... come in. They're... they're here."
The Marine Hero straightened his justice coat, preparing to meet the children he would somehow have to protect. But as he approached the door, his Observation Haki—honed through decades of battles with the world's strongest opponents—detected something that made him freeze.
Someone else was here.
"Who's there?" His voice carried the authority of a man who had cornered the Pirate King himself. "Come out! This is not a place for uninvited guests!"
Two figures emerged from the storm, their forms initially obscured by the driving rain. As they stepped into the dim light, Garp's eyes widened in recognition and disbelief.
The first figure was unmistakable despite his youth—red nose, blue hair, the exaggerated makeup of someone trying too hard to be noticed. Buggy the Clown, former apprentice of the Roger Pirates, looking exactly as Garp remembered him from their encounters at sea.
But it was the second figure that made the Marine Hero's instincts scream warning. A young man with distinctive three-tomoe markings in his eyes, his presence radiating a subtle menace that made even Garp unconsciously tense for battle.
"Vice Admiral Garp," Buggy said, his voice carrying none of the bombastic theatricality that would later define his public persona. He spoke with quiet respect, even as rain plastered his blue hair to his skull. "It's been too long. Captain Roger spoke truly of your honor—Madam Rouge has successfully given birth under your protection."
The clown actually applauded, a surreal sound in the storm-soaked night. "The Hero of the Marines has kept his promise to the Pirate King. Such dedication to one's word... it's truly moving."
Garp's fists clenched as his tactical mind processed the situation. While he sensed no immediate hostility from either figure, their timing was far too convenient to be coincidental. The mysterious companion's silent presence especially set his nerves on edge.
"You didn't come here just to see Roger's child, did you?" Garp's voice carried the weight of absolute threat as he prepared for what might come next. "State your business, or prepare to face the consequences."