Chapter 200

**Chapter 200: Roger's Thoughts**

Roger and Linlin clashed fiercely, their weapons ringing against each other with bursts of Haki-infused force. Their duel was brief but intense—until Linlin's husband arrived with a large entourage, carefully balancing a massive tray of freshly prepared desserts.

The instant Linlin caught sight of the towering stack of sweets, her aggressive aura wavered, and she abruptly ceased her attack. Her expression softened, and her focus shifted entirely to the treats before her.

Roger, seizing the opportunity, immediately suggested a truce.

"Linlin, if you're unwilling to show me, then let's leave it at that. Fighting serves no purpose."

Linlin barely acknowledged his words, her attention already locked onto the glistening desserts. But then, without looking up, she casually asked,

"Hey, Roger, would you like to join my tea party?"

Roger blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected an invitation. Linlin's tea parties were well-known—lavish, extravagant affairs attended by her children and select guests. But there was also an unspoken rule: refusal was not an option.

Before Roger could respond, Linlin's smile darkened, and she turned her gaze toward Shanks, her eyes gleaming with a subtle threat.

Roger immediately understood the implication. If he declined, she wouldn't harm him directly—but she'd make someone close to him suffer.

Shanks felt the weight of Linlin's intent. Yet, he stood his ground, gripping the hilt of his sword. His voice was firm, unfazed.

"Don't look at me like that—I'm not afraid of you."

Roger's breath hitched for a moment. There was something strikingly familiar in Shanks' stance, his fearless defiance. It reminded Roger of two figures from his past—the Celestial Dragon Saint Garling, whom he had once encountered at the Valley of Gods, and more recently, the mysterious marine admiral, Carl. Their unwavering resolve, their sheer presence—it was uncanny.

Meanwhile, perched atop a distant tower, Carl smirked as he observed the scene below. He remained seated comfortably on a battered Charlotte Oven, watching with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Before Linlin could react further, Roger swiftly raised a hand.

"Linlin, I'd be honored to attend your tea party. Why don't we start now?"

Long Bread, ever the voice of reason, quickly interjected,

"After all, we're on our own turf. If a fight breaks out, we'll suffer the most."

Linlin grinned, her mood shifting as quickly as a storm clearing.

"Let's start then!" she declared, already making her way to the garden, where her grand tea party would be held.

Roger and his crew followed, keeping a careful distance.

### **The Tea Party Begins**

The garden was a dazzling spectacle—flowers in full bloom, birds chirping, and an array of exquisitely arranged tables. Everything was built to Linlin's scale, making Roger and his crew look like children seated at a giant's dining set.

Linlin settled into her enormous chair, beaming with delight.

"Let's begin!" she announced, lifting her teacup.

Roger smiled, raising his own cup and clinking it against hers. The tea was fragrant and sweet, yet Roger barely noticed the taste. His mind was elsewhere.

He activated his ability—the "Voice of All Things."

Silently, he extended his senses across Totto Land, listening beyond the tea party's cheerful facade. His focus sharpened, searching for the unmistakable presence of the Road Poneglyph.

Linlin remained blissfully unaware, caught up in the festivities. Only Shanks noticed the subtle shift in Roger's expression—his eyes momentarily unfocused, as if perceiving something beyond the physical realm.

The party carried on, filled with laughter and music, but Roger's work was already done.

He had found it.

The final Road Poneglyph.

A slow grin spread across his face. Across the table, Rayleigh caught the change in Roger's demeanor and leaned in discreetly.

"Roger, you already…?"

Roger nodded, still smiling.

Rayleigh adjusted his cloak slightly, revealing a carefully rolled piece of aged parchment. Not just any parchment—this was pre-inked for creating rubbings of the Poneglyph's text in a single press. They had come prepared.

Linlin would never willingly grant them access to the stone, much less allow them to take a copy. But they weren't about to ask for permission.

Pirates thrived on cunning.

And Roger had already mapped out their next move.