Two days later, aboard the Whitebeard Pirates' ship.
"Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring! Click!"
"Hello, who is it?"
Beside the Den Den Mushi, Marco yawned as he picked up the receiver.
As the commander of the First Division, Marco was always by Whitebeard's side.
Thus, the Den Den Mushi that could reach Whitebeard was kept within his reach.
Over the years, however, this particular Den Den Mushi had rarely rung.
But ever since establishing the so-called "Fish-Man Island and New World Gateway Joint Front" with that guy Michael, the frequency of its ringing had increased.
Most of the calls, though, were just Michael's prank calls.
This time was no exception.
"Wahahaha! Marco, how's life treating you lately?"
"Michael, if you're going to talk like this, I'm hanging up..."
"Hey hey hey, what kind of attitude is that?! I'm filing a complaint, you damn customer service!"
"You're the customer service here! Who in their right mind starts a conversation like that?!"
"You're so petty... But this time, I've got something major to discuss with you!"
"Major... You say that every time! Last time, you just woke up the old man to go to the bathroom! Do you know an entire uninhabited island nearby vanished that day?!"
"Ahem, that was just a little joke with the old man Whitebeard!" Michael's voice carried a hint of guilt, but he quickly regained his bravado.
"But today, it's absolutely, truly something major!"
"Pfft! I'd believe hell freezing over before I believe you!" Marco cursed and was about to slam the receiver down when a large hand stopped him.
"O-Old man?"
"Enough, Marco. Let me handle this brat," Whitebeard said with a nod before taking the Den Den Mushi.
Seeing the cheeky expression mirrored on the snail's face, he chuckled and continued.
"Its been a while, Michael"
"Oh? Did the operator clock out early today?" Hearing Whitebeard's voice, Michael immediately perked up, his tone rising an octave.
"Hey! Old man Whitebeard! I've got a question for you!"
"What is it? Go ahead."
"Do you want a son?"
"...Are you seriously not picking a fight with me?" Whitebeard's eye twitched.
"If you're planning to leave the Marines and join the Whitebeard Pirates, I wouldn't mind gaining another son!"
"You old man, your words are too harsh! I'm asking you seriously, do you lack a son? If you do, I'll send you one!"
"What do you mean by that?" Whitebeard, hearing Michael's sincere tone, was somewhat uncertain.
"What exactly have you done now?"
"Enough with the nonsense! Just answer if you want one or not!" Michael's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper.
"Friendly reminder, this is your biological son—the kind with blood ties!"
That one sentence from Michael inexplicably made Whitebeard, who had dominated the seas for decades, feel a pang of unease.
The man who had caused countless earthquakes in battle was now experiencing a literal tremor in his pupils.
"Blood ties!? I... I haven't made any mistakes..."
"Alright, your hesitant tone says it all... I'm almost at your territory! We'll talk in detail when we meet!"
Click!
The Den Den Mushi hung up abruptly, leaving Whitebeard no chance to ask where he was.
As soon as he set the Den Den Mushi down, a crew member of the Whitebeard Pirates rushed in with a report.
"Marco! Pops! A small sailboat is approaching us! About twenty kilometers away!"
After exchanging a glance with Marco, Whitebeard heard his first mate immediately order:
"Tell everyone not to interfere—that's an ally!"
"Aye!"
The crew member left promptly to relay the command.
Suddenly, Whitebeard burst into laughter.
"Gurararara! That Michael... he never planned to give me a chance to refuse! Contacting me only when he's practically at my doorstep—this wasn't a request, it was a notice!"
...
After hanging up the Den Den Mushi, Michael turned to look at Whitebeard Jr., who was rowing the boat with all his might.
"Hey, keep it up, Weevil! You'll meet your real father soon!"
"Michael..." Weevil looked up, his simple-minded face adorned with a stubbornly dangling crystal pendant.
"Will my dad... push me out to die when he was in danger like Mom did? I don't wanna die... I wanna live."
"Don't worry, big guy," Michael stood and patted Weevil's arm reassuringly.
"If that woman is the worst mother in the world... then you're lucky. You're about to get the best father in the world."
"The best... dad?"
"Yep. If the day ever comes when you're about to be killed, he'd move the world to save his child. And if, sadly, he couldn't... he'd shatter the entire world to bury you with honor."
Michael spoke in a soothing tone, as if comforting a child.
This simple-minded giant, born with low intelligence but immense strength, was like a kid who'd been handed power—lost, easily manipulated, yet just as easily content.
Hearing Michael's words, Weevil broke into a blissfully dopey grin.
"Really? That's... that's great."
Michael studied the not-exactly-heartwarming smile and sighed inwardly in relief.
Thankfully, this was early in Weevil's manipulation by Miss Bakkin—before he'd begun slaughtering Marines to build his infamy.
Because if Michael had to kill someone whose essence was no different from a child's...
Even if he could ultimately bring himself to do it, this was definitely not a pleasant experience.
In Michael's eyes, Whitebeard Jr. was nothing more than a lost child at this moment.
After this, Whitebeard Jr. began rowing even harder.
As a monster possessing the strength of Whitebeard in his youth, twenty kilometers passed in the blink of an eye.
Soon, Michael caught sight of the massive Moby Dick.
From the outside, it resembled a gigantic sperm whale.
"Weevil, let's go." Michael spread his four wings and soared upward.
Weevil nodded blankly, then set down the oars, bent his knees, and leapt up like a cannonball.
After landing on the Moby Dick, Michael immediately spotted the division commanders led by Marco, as well as Whitebeard seated on an enormous sofa.
"Hey, you guys look like you're doing well."
Michael had just greeted them when he noticed they were all staring behind him with indescribable expressions.
Turning around, Michael saw Whitebeard Jr. continuously jumping up and then falling back down...
Only to jump up again.
"Michael! Why can't I jump up there!"
"You need to put some forward momentum into it! Jumping straight up and down won't get you anywhere!"