-Broadcast: Twenty Years Ago (Continued)-
The Memory of Portgas D. Rouge
Vice Admiral Garp's weathered eyes studied the two figures who had emerged from the storm with the calculating intensity of a man who had hunted the world's most dangerous criminals for decades. The red-nosed youth was immediately recognizable—one of Roger's apprentices, often seen fighting back-to-back with that red-haired kid during their encounters at sea. But the dark-haired young man beside him was a complete unknown.
"How did you know Portgas D. Rouge was here?" Garp's voice carried the weight of absolute authority as his fists remained clenched, every muscle in his body coiled for explosive action. "This location was supposed to be secret. Even within the Marines, only I knew of her whereabouts."
The rain continued to pound the isolated island, each drop seeming to echo the tension that crackled between the three men. Garp's Observation Haki swept over both intruders, searching for any hint of hostile intent or hidden weapons.
Through the deluge, Buggy the Clown allowed the water to stream down his painted face, washing away some of the theatrical makeup to reveal the sharp intelligence beneath. His mouth stretched into a grin that held no humor—only cold calculation.
"Garp, you truly are a devoted guardian," Buggy said, his voice carrying none of the bombastic showmanship that would later define his public persona. "How convenient that Madam Rouge has given birth to twins. We can each take one—no conflict necessary, don't you think?"
The casual suggestion hit Garp like a physical blow. The audacity of this apprentice pirate, standing in the rain and proposing to split Roger's children like spoils of war, ignited something primal in the Marine Hero's chest.
"You're dreaming!"
Garp's entire body erupted with Armament Haki, the invisible armor coating his form with the density of steel. In the blink of an eye—faster than most people could even perceive—his legendary iron fist rocketed toward Buggy's face with enough force to shatter mountains.
The wind pressure from his punch alone was devastating, flattening the grass around them and causing Buggy's blue hair to whip wildly. This was the same fist that had cornered the Pirate King himself, thrown with every ounce of strength that had made Garp a living legend.
But impossibly, horrifyingly, the attack stopped cold.
The black iron fist halted less than half an inch from Buggy's red nose, frozen in space as if time itself had been suspended. Garp's eyes, wide with shock and confusion, stared unblinkingly ahead—not at his target, but at something that existed only in his mind.
Buggy tilted his head with casual curiosity, reaching out to touch the Marine Hero's motionless fist. The contact confirmed what he already knew—Garp was completely helpless, trapped in a prison of his own perceptions.
"Shisui," Buggy said conversationally, his grin widening with satisfaction. "The eye techniques of you traitorous clans really are powerful. Even the Hero of the Marines in his absolute prime falls victim to your illusions. Good thing I found you first."
The young man called Shisui stepped into the dim light, and the source of his power became terrifyingly clear. Where moments before he had possessed normal red eyes with three distinctive tomoe markings, now those same orbs had transformed into something far more sinister. Black, dart-shaped patterns spun slowly in his irises, and streams of blood leaked from the corners of his eyes like red tears.
"Don't touch him too much," Shisui warned, his voice strained with effort. "If he experiences strong external stimulation, the Marine Hero's own Haki might break through my genjutsu. You need to finish this quickly—I can't maintain control for much longer."
The technique was clearly taking a massive toll on its user. Sweat beaded on Shisui's forehead despite the cold rain, and his hands trembled with the strain of containing such an overwhelming force of will.
Buggy nodded with professional appreciation, walking around the frozen Garp as if inspecting a statue. The sight was surreal—one of the world's strongest men, reduced to a motionless puppet by the power of a single glance.
"Two minutes should be more than enough," Buggy said, pushing open the door to the delivery room. "Keep him stable until I return."
The interior of the modest room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp, casting dancing shadows across walls that had witnessed the miracle of impossible birth. In the center, on a simple bed, lay Portgas D. Rouge—exhausted beyond human endurance but alive.
She had wrapped her newborn children in clean cloth she had prepared months in advance, holding them protectively against her chest. When she heard footsteps, hope flickered in her eyes.
"Is that Mr. Garp?" she called weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.
But the figure who entered was decidedly not the Marine Hero. Rouge's maternal instincts flared to life as she saw the clown makeup, the wild blue hair, the unmistakable presence of a pirate. Her grip on the babies tightened instinctively.
"Who are you?" The exhaustion in her voice was replaced by fierce protective fire. "Where is Mr. Garp? He would never let a stranger—"
"Madanm Rouge," Buggy interrupted gently, his voice carrying surprising respect. "I apologize for startling you. My name is Buggy—I was an apprentice aboard your husband's ship. Please don't be afraid. I mean no harm to you or your children."
The revelation that this intruder had served under Roger provided some small comfort, but Rouge's wariness only deepened. Her brilliant mind, weakened but not broken by the ordeal of birth, immediately grasped the implications.
"Roger only told Mr. Garp about my pregnancy," she said carefully, studying Buggy's face in the lamplight. "He specifically said no one else could know. How did you find me?"
From the moment he had entered the room, Buggy's attention had been fixed on the two small bundles in Rouge's arms. His gaze was intense, almost hungry, making the new mother increasingly uncomfortable. The babies—little Ann and Ace, experiencing the world for the first time—seemed to sense the tension and began crying in harmony.
"Madam Rouge, I'll be direct," Buggy said, taking a step closer to the bed. "I came here to take Captain Roger's child. I didn't expect twins—that complicates things, but it also presents an opportunity. You can keep one for Garp to raise. I'll take the other."
The casual pronouncement hit Rouge like a physical blow. Her maternal instincts, already heightened by exhaustion and fear, exploded into fierce protectiveness.
"No," she said simply, holding both children tighter against her chest. "I won't let you take either of them. Only Mr. Garp can protect Roger's blood from the government's hunters."
Buggy continued his advance, and in the dim light, Rouge could see the full extent of his theatrical makeup—the white base, the exaggerated red features, the wild blue hair that gave him an almost demonic appearance.
"Did Mr. Garp give you permission to enter?" she demanded, though she already knew the answer.
"Of course the Marine Hero didn't let me in," Buggy replied with dark amusement. "He's currently... indisposed... thanks to my associate. But I give you my word, Mrs. Rouge—I will raise the child I take. She will grow strong, learn to protect herself, and survive in this cruel world."
Before Rouge could react, before her weakened body could mount any defense, Buggy lunged forward and snatched one of the babies from her arms. The new mother's scream of anguish echoed through the small room as little Ann was torn from her embrace.
"Since you were once Roger's crewmate," Rouge gasped, tears streaming down her face, "I beg you—keep your promise. Don't hurt Ann. She's just an innocent child."
The baby girl cried pitifully in the arms of this damp stranger, her small voice joining her brother's wails in a heartbreaking chorus. Buggy looked down at the child with an expression that might have been tenderness, might have been calculation—in the dim light, it was impossible to tell.
"I make no promises beyond survival," he said coldly. "But she will live. That's more than the World Government would offer."
Without another word, Buggy tore off his shirt and wrapped it around the baby to protect her from the rain. The last image Portgas D. Rouge had of her daughter was the little girl disappearing into the storm, carried away by a man whose true intentions remained utterly unknown.
When Buggy emerged from the delivery room, Shisui was barely standing. Blood streamed more heavily from his transformed eyes, and his entire body shook with the effort of containing Garp's tremendous willpower.
"I have the child," Buggy reported, cradling the baby carefully. "How much longer can you maintain control?"
"Not much longer," Shisui gasped, his voice strained beyond its limits. "The Marine Hero's Haki is beyond anything I've encountered. Two minutes was optimistic—I'm already at my limit."
Buggy nodded grimly. "Then it's time for the final step. Use Kotoamatsukami to alter his memories. Make him believe Rouge only gave birth to one child—a boy. The girl never existed."
Shisui's face went pale, and for a moment, genuine fear flickered in his bleeding eyes. "That technique... the cost is enormous. It will destroy my right eye completely."
"The price of power," Buggy replied without sympathy. "Do it. This secret must be absolute."
The young man called Shisui took a shuddering breath and focused every remaining ounce of his chakra into his right eye. The black patterns spun faster, the bleeding intensified, and reality itself seemed to bend around Garp's motionless form.
Kotoamatsukami—the ultimate genjutsu, capable of completely rewriting a person's memories and perceptions without them ever knowing they had been manipulated. Even a Haki master of Garp's caliber was helpless against its reality-altering power.
As the technique took hold, Shisui's right eye went completely white, the optic nerve destroyed by the sheer force of the illusion. He collapsed to one knee, half-blind and utterly exhausted, but the deed was done.
"It's finished," he whispered, clutching his destroyed eye. "His memories have been altered. As far as Garp knows, Portgas D. Rouge gave birth to a single child—a boy named Ace."
Buggy looked down at the baby in his arms one final time, then melted into the shadows of the storm. His departure was so sudden, so complete, that it seemed as though he had never been there at all.
Shisui remained for a few moments longer, watching as the legendary Marine Hero began to stir. The genjutsu was fading, but its work was complete. Garp would wake with no memory of the past few minutes, no knowledge of a second child, no awareness that reality itself had been rewritten around him.
As consciousness returned to the Hero of the Marines, Shisui vanished into the night, leaving behind only the rain and the echo of a baby's cry that Garp would never remember hearing.
Several minutes later, Garp's eyes gradually came back into focus. He blinked in confusion, shaking his head as if trying to clear away cobwebs.
"Huh?" he muttered, scratching his hair with characteristic casualness. "Must have been daydreaming again. Always happens when I'm worried about something."
With no memory of the supernatural encounter, no awareness that his mind had been violated and rewritten, Garp pushed open the door to the delivery room. Inside, he found Portgas D. Rouge in her final moments, weak but smiling as she held a single baby—a boy with dark hair and his father's determined expression.
"Mr. Garp," Rouge whispered, her voice growing fainter by the moment. "Thank you for everything. Please... take care of him. His name is Ace."
Garp witnessed the final moments of the Pirate King's woman, watching as a mother's love transcended death itself. In his altered perception, there had never been another child, never been a daughter named Ann. The girl's existence had been erased so completely that even her dying mother's grief over her disappearance went unnoticed.
As Rouge breathed her last, Garp cradled the baby boy who would grow up to become Fire Fist Ace—never knowing he had a twin sister, never remembering the other half of his soul that had been stolen away in the storm.
-Broadcast: The Present-
In the ethereal realm of the underworld, the memory of Portgas D. Rouge faded like morning mist. The three legendary spirits—Roger, Whitebeard, and Ace—stood in contemplative silence as the full truth of that night finally became clear.
Roger's expression was a complex mixture of understanding and bitter irony. His own former apprentice had managed to accomplish what should have been impossible, using methods that transcended normal concepts of strength and ability.
"So that's how it was done," Roger said quietly. "Not through physical power, but through techniques that could rewrite reality itself. I never imagined Buggy had access to such abilities."
Ace stared at his biological father with newfound respect for the red-nosed pirate he had dismissed as a joke. The revelation that Ann was alive—raised by Buggy rather than killed by the World Government—carried its own strange comfort.
The Pirate King's form began to shimmer as his time in this realm drew to a close. "Soul King, knowing that Ann is alive is enough for me. I have no other wishes. Our transaction is complete. I hope you will summon me again when the time is right."
Roger cast one final, lingering look at Ace—the son who had rejected him but whose existence had given his life meaning. Then, with the quiet dignity of a man finally at peace, he walked alone through the gates of hell.
Whitebeard and Ace watched Roger depart, then turned to face their own eternal rest. The father and son supported each other as they walked toward the underworld's depths, their bond transcending death itself.
"Thank you, Soul King," Whitebeard rumbled as they reached the threshold. "For giving us this chance to understand, to find closure."
Ace nodded his agreement, then added quietly, "Take care of Luffy. And if you find my sister... tell her she has a brother who wishes he could have known her."
The gates of hell closed behind them with finality, leaving Brook alone in the ethereal space between worlds.
The Soul King stood in contemplative silence for several moments, processing the incredible revelations about hidden techniques, altered memories, and the true fate of Roger's daughter.
The gate of hell behind Brook was closed by the will of the Soul King. The skeleton man took note of Ann's matter and thought about telling the captain when he met him. Now he was going to enter the factory to liberate the dwarfs enslaved by Doflamingo.