New World, somewhere at sea.
The massive Moby Dick floated on the ocean.
The sky was clear for thousands of miles, and the golden sunlight poured down onto the ship, giving it a thin, gleaming layer of gold.
The deck was bustling with people, lively and vibrant, as if they were having a banquet.
The scent of wine filled the air, and the deck was lined with all kinds of delicious food.
Whitebeard sat in his usual spot, grinning as he watched the cheerful scene.
He casually lifted a wine barrel — one that was regular-sized compared to him — and tilted it back, pouring the liquor into his mouth.
At this moment, he no longer wore the IV tubes, and the crescent-shaped mustache that had been damaged by Sanders had been restored to its former appearance.
Flower Sword Vista walked over with a slightly smaller wine jug in hand and sat cross-legged beside Whitebeard.
"Old man, Marco's visit to the Thunder God Pirates has stirred up quite a commotion across the seas," Vista said as he handed Whitebeard a stack of newspapers.
Whitebeard glanced at the newspapers and seemed amused by what he read, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter.
"Gurararara!"
"The Marines are really overreacting!"
"That old guy Sengoku must be scared stiff!" Whitebeard roared with laughter.
Just imagining his old rival fretting in Marineford's office put Whitebeard in a great mood.
"Hah, the Marines actually think we would form an alliance with Sanders and Kaido? How ridiculous!" Vista scoffed as he gazed at the distant sea.
They were the Whitebeard Pirates!
How could they possibly need to ally with anyone else?
Not even Roger's Pirate crew had warranted an alliance — let alone any of today's so-called Emperors.
Their old man was a legend who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Pirate King, Roger.
Had Whitebeard been interested in the Pirate King's throne after Roger's death, he would've claimed it easily.
A king would never stoop to forming alliances!
"Gurararara!"
"The Marines can't afford to take that risk," Whitebeard said with a hearty swig of his drink.
Seeing Whitebeard drink so recklessly, Vista's eyes flashed with concern. He tried to persuade him:
"Old man, you should cut back a bit. Your body is still recovering."
"Gurararara! I feel fantastic!" Whitebeard laughed it off.
"I don't even need the IV drips anymore."
"That little brat Sanders' ability sure came in handy," he continued.
"I feel like I've regained the condition I had five years ago."
Ever since Sanders had treated him, Whitebeard had felt a great sense of rejuvenation.
When he had clashed fists with Kaido afterward, his blows had been stronger than ever.
Vista wanted to continue persuading him but suddenly remembered one of Marco's main goals for this trip.
His gaze flickered slightly, and he chose to stay silent.
If Marco could convince Sanders to completely heal Whitebeard...
Given Whitebeard's natural resilience, no amount of drinking would be a problem.
Still, whether Sanders would agree — Vista wasn't very confident.
After all, they really didn't have much of a relationship with the Thunder God Pirates.
Whitebeard looked at his silent son and smiled as he continued,
"Didn't Marco go to find Sanders?"
"A little drinking won't hurt anything."
Vista's eyes sharpened, and he stiffly turned his head to look at Whitebeard.
"Old... old man, you knew?"
Asking Sanders to heal Whitebeard's body had been something the division commanders had secretly discussed without telling him.
Yet the old man already knew.
"Of course I knew, Vista!"
"You brats, do you think your old man has gotten senile?"
Whitebeard's face hardened, the smile disappearing from his eyes as he stared at Vista in a deep voice.
"Old man, no, we just..."
Facing Whitebeard's stern expression, cold sweat broke out on Vista's forehead.
He hurriedly stood up from the deck, trying to explain—but Whitebeard's booming laughter cut him off.
"Gurararara!"
"Vista!"
"You're over forty years old and you still can't take a joke!"
A broad grin returned to Whitebeard's face.
Vista wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at the old man helplessly.
"I know you're all doing it for my sake,"
Whitebeard said warmly.
"I've never once blamed you."
"Forgiving the foolishness of sons—that's what a father is supposed to do, isn't it?"
"Besides," he added with a hearty chuckle,
"if my sons want to find a good doctor for me,
how could I not be happy?"
Whitebeard gazed into the distance, where the lively banquet was still roaring.
His eyes were full of affection.
These were all his family.
How could he ever be angry at his sons for their good intentions?
"You really gave me a scare there, old man,"
Vista let out a sigh of relief.
After a moment of hesitation, he added,
"This time, Marco might have to promise some heavy terms to Sanders... including, but not limited to, our territories and treasures."
Since the old man already knew their plan, there was no point in hiding anything anymore.
"All that stuff is just worldly possessions,"
Whitebeard said casually, waving his hand without a care.
The only thing he cared about was his sons.
If the rest was lost, so be it.
Just like Marco and the others thought, Whitebeard also believed that if they lost their territories and treasures, they could simply seize them back again.
After all, they were pirates.
At worst... they could just go and rob Sanders himself.
Whitebeard still felt a little unwilling about losing to Sanders back then.
Especially now, with his body in poor condition, he couldn't unleash his full strength for long periods.
Once his body was properly healed, he really wanted to have a good match with that kid Sanders, to show him that he was merely injured—not old!
Hearing Whitebeard's words, "Flower Sword" Vista completely relaxed.
A bright light flashed in his eyes, and excitement surged in his heart.
It had been so long since he'd seen the old man at his true peak.
He couldn't wait to witness it again.
Hopefully, Marco would succeed.
Just then, a shout came from above—the lookout tower.
"Old man!"
"A Marine battleship spotted not far away!"
"Ignore it,"
Vista shouted back nonchalantly.
"It'll turn around and leave soon enough."
Everyone on the ship shared the same attitude as Vista, continuing to drink and feast without even sparing the Marine vessel a second glance.
What a joke!
They were the Whitebeard Pirates!
A lone Marine battleship wouldn't even have the guts to stare them down.
If it were an entire fleet, maybe they would take it a bit more seriously.
"It's not the same this time, Commander Vista!"
"The ship is... a Dog-Head Battleship!"
"It's the personal vessel of Marine Hero Garp!"
The lookout pirate shouted again, his voice heavy with seriousness.
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