The air on the Thousand Sunny was thick with the scent of salt and the distant rumble of an island they’d just escaped. Usopp was stitching a gash in the mainsail, Chopper was restocking bandages, and Sanji was barking orders from the galley.
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. gear fourth
“Yeah,” he said, hopping down. “Just remembering.” The air on the Thousand Sunny was thick
“Kong Gun.”
He stopped the transformation just as his shoulder began to swell. The power receded. But the memory remained. Chopper was restocking bandages
Sanji lit a cigarette against the wind. “At least he’s not brooding anymore.”