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He walked past her to the deck. The wind was picking up. Dark clouds boiled on the horizon. The crew was scrambling to tie down barrels. Jinbe was at the helm, calm as stone.
He looked normal. Bony knuckles, rubbery skin, the small scar under his palm from a fight with a sea king when he was seven. But he could still feel it. The ghost of Gear Fourth.
He stopped the transformation just as his shoulder began to swell. The power receded. But the memory remained. gear fourth
Zoro, leaning against the mast, smirked without opening his eyes. “Show-off.”
“Yeah,” he said, hopping down. “Just remembering.” He walked past her to the deck
He looked up. His face split into that wide, goofy grin. The one that never changed, whether he was a boy in Foosha Village or the Emperor who punched a Yonko.
He looked at his hands again. The scars from Cracker. The bruises from Katakuri. He thought of Katakuri—the man who could see the future. For ten hours, Luffy had run, dodged, and bled. He’d eaten so much mochi he thought he’d turn into it. And when he finally went Gear Fourth against that perfect warrior, it wasn't just power. The crew was scrambling to tie down barrels
And as the Sunny plunged into the dark, Luffy’s shadow—with its small, wiry frame—seemed for just a second to ripple and swell. A giant. A king. A rubber man who refused to break.