'This brat… is trying to poach a Marine Admiral.'
That thought instantly surfaced in Whitebeard's mind.
His facial muscles twitched hard.
Those eyes—eyes that had watched over an entire era—locked onto Lucian, trying to find even the slightest hint of a joke.
Just a little.
But no.
Lucian's expression remained still.
That sly, conspiratorial curve of his lips didn't fade. It widened.
Certain.
Anticipatory.
Inside the coated ship, only the bubbling of seawater outside could be heard.
One second.
Two seconds.
"Pfft…"
A strange grunt escaped Whitebeard's throat.
Then—
A roar of laughter burst out from him!
It was louder and crazier than ever before.
"Gurararara—HAHAHAHAHA!!"
His laughter slammed around the ship like a shockwave, making the whole bubble tremble with vibration.
He held his face with one hand and slapped his seat with the other, laughing so hard he nearly bent over backwards.
Tears almost shot from his eyes.
"Good kid!"
"Good kid!!"
"Gurarara! You've really got some nerve!"
Whitebeard suddenly leaned forward and grabbed Lucian by the shoulders.
In his eyes was a wild mix of shock, admiration, and unfiltered excitement—like discovering an untouched New World.
"I've sailed these seas for decades! I've fought countless battles with the Navy! I've killed Vice Admirals! Beaten Admirals!"
"But I've never—never imagined stealing a Marine Admiral to my side!"
"You've got guts!"
"You little brat, you've got balls!"
He released his grip and gave Lucian a massive slap on the back.
Boom!
A dull thud echoed.
And Whitebeard made no attempt to hide his praise or excitement.
"Others sail to find treasure. You sail to steal the Navy's national treasure!"
"Gurararara! Now this is interesting!"
"Far too interesting!"
In that moment, he wholeheartedly agreed with Lucian's insane plan.
This wasn't just bold.
It was the kind of move that punched a hole in the sky.
Turning the enemy's greatest asset into your own weapon?
This… this was exactly his kind of game.
As Whitebeard laughed like a madman, the coated ship continued forward.
Lucian was smiling too.
He poured himself another bowl of sake and clinked it heavily with Whitebeard's.
"Pops, this wasn't some last-minute idea."
He took a sip and spoke plainly.
"Kuzan… his justice has been conflicted for a long time."
"Ever since Ohara, the seed of doubt was planted. And for years, the disgusting things the World Government and the Celestial Dragons have done…"
"They've been watering that seed."
"And now… that seed has grown into a tree strong enough to split his faith in two."
Whitebeard's laughter slowed.
He picked up the jug and listened.
"This battle for Fleet Admiral—win or lose—it'll be the final straw that drives him out of the Navy."
Lucian's eyes were deep, as if already seeing the battlefield aftermath.
"If he wins, he'll sit in a position that betrays his conscience. He'll become the top dog of the very order he despises."
"That'd hurt him more than death."
Actually—no. Like I said, he's not going to win.
"And if he loses…"
Lucian paused, then smirked.
"Then he loses everything."
"His status. His honor. His version of justice… it'll all be burned to ash by Sakazuki's magma."
"And at that point, he'll be a man with no belief, no direction—a ghost discarded by justice."
"And we…"
Lucian looked at Whitebeard.
"All we need to do is reach out a ladder… at his lowest, most broken moment."
Whitebeard didn't answer.
He just looked at Lucian—
And in that moment, saw the shadow of an old comrade.
This young man he regarded as his own son didn't just have the strength to crush the world…
He had the mind to see into people's hearts and plan across oceans.
It reminded him of that man.
Lucian had already become a true king—
One capable of ushering in a new age.
"Gurararara… Good!"
"Then let me witness it myself—how you turn that ice bird into one of us!"
Whitebeard raised the jug again and drained it all.
—
The coated ship glided on through the deep sea.
No one knew how long passed—
But slowly, the surroundings began to change.
"Hmm?"
Whitebeard raised an eyebrow and set the jug down.
Something felt off.
The sea creatures—those bright-colored fish and enormous Sea Kings—were gone.
The surroundings became unnaturally quiet.
Even the air inside the ship began to feel strange.
One side grew hotter.
The other, colder.
Whitebeard walked up to the bubble edge and looked outside.
On the left, bubbles were rising.
The seawater steamed and boiled—burning unseen, becoming cloudy and superheated.
On the right, icebergs floated.
Some larger than their ship.
They bumped into one another with low, rumbling sounds.
"Oh?"
Whitebeard raised his brows, intrigued.
"Looks like we're getting close."
Lucian joined him, peering into the black distance beyond.
The ship began to ascend.
And when it finally broke the ocean's surface—
The sight before them was like something from legend.
The island had been split in half.
A boundary so sharp it looked like it had been sliced by a sword.
The left half—shrouded in blazing fire clouds.
The air thick with molten heat, glowing ominously, painting the sky in doomsday red.
The right half—buried in storm clouds.
Massive blizzards roared, hail and snow tumbling in sheets that formed a white curtain from sky to sea.
Beneath them, the ocean reflected the madness.
On the left: boiling water, hissing violently like a giant pot.
On the right: frozen sea, layered in thick ice, from which jagged ice peaks stabbed out like fangs, reaching far into the distance.
Ice and fire.
Two opposing forces battling for territory in the most brutal, primal way possible.
The powers of Awakened Logia Devil Fruits had permanently altered this island's climate and ecosystem.
This place was now…
A hell of magma and frost.
Punk Hazard.
They had arrived.
"Gurararara… What terrifying monsters."
Even Whitebeard couldn't help but admire the sheer elemental chaos.
Seeing it with his own eyes, he had to admit—these two Navy brats had mastered their Fruits to perfection.
Lucian didn't say a word.
He simply watched.
His Observation Haki had long since spread over the island.
At its center, two terrifying forces clashed:
One—a searing, wrathful magma that sought to devour everything.
The other—a cold, deathly zero absolute that froze even time.
Each collision made the entire island quake, launching lava tsunamis and blizzards into the sky.
The duel had clearly been going on for days.
Now, it was at its most dangerous peak.
Their coated ship gently docked at one of the few intact shores.
This place—somewhere between the two biomes—was like a buffer zone, untouched by either fire or frost.
Lucian and Whitebeard disembarked one after the other.
They stepped onto ground scorched and frosted in turn.
But then—
Lucian's brow twitched.
He stopped—not looking toward the battle's center, but instead, toward a towering ice peak on the island's far side.
A slow, playful smile curled his lips.
"Interesting…"
"Looks like we're not the only spectators."
Whitebeard followed his gaze.
His Observation Haki locked onto the same spot in an instant.
And then—
A smile of understanding appeared on his face.
The kind shared between old rivals.
He recognized that presence.
A presence he'd known all his life.
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard's signature laugh rang out again—
This time, full of mocking delight.
"It's that old bastard Garp!"
"Knew he couldn't sit still while his protégé was having a death match—so he came sneaking out here on his own!"