“Yohohoho!”
A gust of wind swept past, and Brook, clad in a formal suit, appeared beside Kong Tai.
He held his violin and smiled at Kong Tai, “Mr. Kong Tai, we have another opportunity to collaborate. What song shall we perform today?”
“What song?”
Kong Tai tilted his head, glancing at the countless audience members within the venue, and fell into thought.
Amidst the crowd.
“No way! No way!”
Marines and some hidden pirates listened to Kong Tai’s name with incredulity plastered across their faces.
“It can’t be him!”
“A big shot like Silver-Haired Kong Tai, how could he possibly be here, and about to perform…”
When they saw the silver-haired figure suddenly appear center stage, with no attempt at concealment whatsoever, the Marines and pirates who had been cheering and shouting moments before fell into complete silence.
If the Marines were shocked, then the pirates were purely terrified, afraid of attracting the attention of the person on stage.
At this moment, even though they knew they were all illusions, they felt no sense of security whatsoever.
Marine Headquarters.
“Hahahaha!! Isn’t that the brat Kong Tai?”
In Sengoku’s office, Garp sat casually on the sofa, a bag of rice crackers in one hand, pointing at the projection on the wall with a finger, roaring with laughter.
“I didn’t expect this concert to feature him. That passage between reality and illusion, he didn’t create it, did he?”
As he spoke, he withdrew his hand and tossed the rice crackers into his mouth with a crunch.
Sengoku ignored his old friend and, with his hands clasped in front of him, leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hands, staring intently at the image on the wall, deep in thought.
The Marines were about to undergo unprecedented changes under his leadership. During this time, the pressure from within the Marines, from the World Government, and from all directions had made his battle-hardened shoulders even heavier.
If it weren’t for Garp, the Marine hero, “Tsuru,” the Marine Vice Admiral, the Admirals, and the support of most of the Vice Admirals, he would have already been imprisoned in the great underwater prison meant for pirates.
Under such immense pressure, he naturally paid close attention to the whereabouts of Kong Tai and his crew.
After all, whether the Marines would change, and for better or worse, he had bet everything without the silver-haired youth’s knowledge.
Garp rolled his eyes and glanced at Sengoku.
Having known each other for decades, just as Sengoku understood him well, he also understood Sengoku very well.
Although their methods of justice differed, their ideals for the world were largely the same.
The laughter and jokes were just a facade. In truth, within the Marine system, Garp was the smartest.
No one hated the Celestial Dragons more than him, and no one knew the world’s evils better.
But what of it? Would overthrowing the World Government make the world a better place?
This was merely self-deception.
The world was as it was. Even if the World Government were overthrown, it would only fall into another cycle.
Besides, he didn’t have the strength to overthrow the World Government, did he?
Since he couldn’t do it, he would do his best in his appointed role, uphold his own justice, and fulfill the responsibilities that came with his position and the cape of justice he wore. That was enough.
“Sengoku.”
“What is it?”
Sengoku’s thoughtful gaze vanished. He turned and looked at Garp with a puzzled expression.
Putting down the rice crackers in his hand, Garp sat up straight and asked Sengoku in a rare, serious tone, “Is doing this truly worth it?”
Sengoku glanced at his old friend, but did not answer. Instead, he lowered his hands, leaned back in his chair, and propped his hands above his head, pressing his thumbs against his temples to gently rub them.
Just then.
From the microphone in the center of the room, the boy’s passionate, yet somewhat weathered voice emerged.
“Everyone is brave.
The wound on your forehead, your differences, the mistakes you’ve made.
There’s no need to hide them.
Your worn-out doll, your mask, your true self.
They say to carry the light and tame every monster.
…”
As the song began, the room fell completely silent.
“Will you go? Go! With the humblest dream.
Will you fight? Fight! With the proudest dream.
To the whimpers and roars in the dark night.
Who says only those who stand in the light are heroes?”
When the boy sang the final lines, his high-pitched, roaring voice seemed to pierce through the hearts of everyone who heard it, like a true light.
“Who says only those who stand in the light are heroes?”
Sengoku stared intently at the silver-haired figure on the screen. At this moment, it felt as if the pressure on his shoulders had vanished with the boy’s song. His appearance and posture remained the same, yet it gave one a sense of regained confidence and uprightness.
Garp glanced at Sengoku, smiled, and shook his head. Then, he relaxed his body, sinking back into the sofa with a crunch that echoed in the room once more.
“That kid, he’s truly amazing!”
Looking up at the boy in the video, a hint of emotion flickered in Garp’s eyes.
“Who says only those who stand in the light are heroes?”
He had lived his entire life in the spotlight, his every move influencing the Marines. He was the face of the Marines, and in his later years, he even became a symbol of faith for them.
Therefore, he was not a hero outside the light.
However, he knew that there were far more than just himself who could be called heroes within the Marines.
His strength might have been the greatest, but in terms of protecting the world and the common people, there were certainly many frontline Marine soldiers who did so more thoroughly.
They too deserved the title of hero.
…
Elegia.
After the song concluded, there was a long moment of silence in the venue.
Whether they were Marines, civilians, or pirates, everyone was lost in the song.
The boy’s voice certainly didn’t possess Uta’s charisma, but the meaning of the song seemed to resonate with everyone present.
“A song, ‘Lone Brave,’ dedicated to everyone trapped in darkness.”
Kong Tai had pondered for a long time what to sing.
Looking at the people present, he saw no nobles, no Marines, no pirates, only countless ordinary people yearning for light.
They needed courage, light, and hope.
And at that moment, Kong Tai remembered a song that had become immensely popular when he left his previous world.
Picking up the microphone, Kong Tai stepped forward, walked to the edge of the stage, looked out at the teeming crowd, and spoke loudly.
“For many, this world is not beautiful. It is, in fact, filled with ugliness. However, the radiance of humanity and the yearning for life make each person unwilling, unwilling to simply leave this world like this.”
“Since you are so unwilling, why not become your own hero? Each person’s heart is an island. It is difficult to break through darkness, and even more difficult to climb out of the mud. But if you don’t persevere, you will live in the mud forever.”
“The idea of waiting for others to bestow light upon you is not wrong. When in darkness, we always seek warmth in numbers and wish for someone to rescue us. But there are not so many heroes in this world, not so much light. Heroes are also human, and they too can despair. Therefore, instead of placing your hope on others, it is better to stand up now and become your own hero.”