As that holy light burst forth from Jake's hands, the entire Whitebeard Pirates crew froze in stunned silence.
Most of the people instantly snapped out of their drunken stupor, their previously relaxed muscles now tense and bulging.
A terrifying aura locked onto Jake in an instant, as if they could tear him apart at any moment.
Monet felt the pressure around her and involuntarily began emitting a chilling cold.
A frosty path spread from beneath her feet, instantly lowering the previously sweltering air.
Marco, however, widened his eyes and raised an eyebrow, shouting at the surrounding pirates.
"You idiots! All of you, stop right there! Can't you see? This Marine guy's ability is healing Pops' body! If you keep making those faces, I won't let you off easy!"
"And you morons, if this were an attack, do you really think Pops wouldn't have reacted by now?!"
As Marco's voice rang out, everyone gradually lowered their weapons.
They suddenly remembered—their father was the strongest man in the world.
A brat like Jake couldn't possibly harm him in the slightest.
With that thought, their previously tense moods instantly relaxed.
Now, they grew curious about the ability Jake was displaying.
The dazzling radiance in his hands was different from Kizaru's blinding light—though equally bright, Jake's glow wasn't harsh.
Instead, it carried an indescribable softness.
Watching the light, many pirates found themselves entranced.
They instinctively reached out to touch the rays.
As their fingertips made contact, waves of warmth slowly spread through their bodies.
Pain, fatigue, sorrow—all negative emotions seemed to vanish before that light.
Pure white feathers drifted down from the air, disappearing before they could even touch the deck.
Holy radiance spilled from Jake's surroundings, making the scene look like something out of a myth.
Teach observed this with the same stunned expression as the others, but deep inside, a mix of gravity and greed surfaced.
This Devil Fruit power—he absolutely had to obtain it!
However... Watching Whitebeard's gradually improving complexion, Teach felt a hint of unease.
The reason he had waited so long on Whitebeard's ship wasn't just to obtain that legendary Devil Fruit.
Another crucial reason was to monitor Whitebeard's condition.
Having followed the old man for so many years, no one understood better than him just how terrifying this geezer truly was.
If Whitebeard remained at his peak, even with the power of the Dark-Dark Fruit, Teach could never become the Pirate King under his shadow.
Fucking old man—just hurry up and die already!
Damn Marine brat, healing Whitebeard at a time like this...
I don't want to wait until I'm an old man myself!
Yet, more often than not, the less people expect something to happen, the more likely events will unfold in a certain direction.
Amidst hearty laughter, Whitebeard's voice rang out with noticeably more vigor and depth than before.
The surrounding space trembled slightly and in the next moment, the entire Moby Dick began to shudder faintly.
"Gurarararara~ It's been ages since I've felt this refreshed! Brat, this power of yours truly astonishes me!"
As he spoke, Whitebeard tore off all the IV drips attached to him, disregarding the protests of the nurses nearby.
He then raised his cup towards Jake with a wine jar in hand, grinning broadly.
"Though you might not like hearing this, you damn brat wasting your talents as a Marine is a shame! Become my son instead! Whatever you wish to do, as long as you carry my name, I'll support you with everything I've got!"
Whitebeard's words left everyone present stunned—his sons, Jake included—all frozen in disbelief.
Marco was the first to break the silence.
He laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he clapped Jake on the shoulder and said.
"Pops, Jake is the future of the Marines! There's no way he'd join us. But hey, if you ever change your mind, I'll follow your lead! The title of 1st Division Commander? Yours for the taking!"
"Commander Marco! Pops! What nonsense are you spouting?!"
The pirates below deck grew flustered.
They knew all too well the personalities of these two men—once they spoke, they meant every word.
If Jake agreed to join, the 1st Division Commander might really be replaced.
Amidst the pirates' chaos, Jake chuckled and replied.
"No thanks. Compared to the unpredictable life of a pirate, I prefer the Marines. What I want to accomplish can only be done as a Marine."
Hearing Jake's firm refusal, Whitebeard didn't take offense.
Instead, he cracked open another jar of wine and bellowed to the crowd.
"Tonight, we feast! Gurarararara! We only have one goal—get that Marine brat drunk!"
The next moment, the deck erupted with deafening cheers.
Staring at the endless stream of cups thrust his way, Jake was momentarily dumbfounded.
Then came the relentless torrent of strong liquor down his throat.
Faces blurred as pirates took turns challenging him.
At first, Jake could still recognize who was who, but soon, he was mechanically clinking cups and downing drinks without thought.
Gulp after gulp, Jake's spirits gradually soared.
He slung an arm around Marco's shoulder, his speech growing slurred.
"Your Pops' illness? Nothing to me! He's seized so many territories from those Celestial Dragons and the World Government—curing him feels damn satisfying!"
"If I weren't a Marine, who knows? Maybe I'd join you guys and help take down those Celestial Dragon bastards!"
As Jake uttered these words, Monet moved to intervene, but a nurse beside her gently held her back, smiling knowingly.
"Don't worry. Everything you've said here has been witnessed by Pops. No one will use it against you."
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