There were still more than two years before the main plot truly began.
For Tenma, this game of chess had plenty of time to be played slowly.
He was genuinely eager to see it—
When that ambition-filled schemer who had endured in the shadows for twenty years finally succeeded in stealing a SMILE fruit, and swallowed it with boundless anticipation…
Just how spectacular would the expression on his face be?
Hopefully, fate would roll him a particularly ridiculous animal form. Otherwise, it wouldn't do justice to all those years of careful infiltration.
As Sea Circle Calendar Year 1515 drew to a close, cold winds swept the seas.
On the surging waves of the New World, a colossal whale-shaped pirate ship cut through the water.
The iconic white crescent-skull flag snapped loudly in the wind, proclaiming to the world the authority of the Four Emperors—
Whitebeard.
On a day that should have been calm, the Moby Dick, which had long remained dormant in the Sphinx Sea, suddenly set sail in full force.
The reason was simple.
"Fire Fist" Ace.
After entering the New World, the top-ranked supernova had not reined himself in at all. Instead, after defeating several of Whitebeard's subordinate pirate crews in succession, he openly declared that he would challenge the man known as the Strongest in the World.
The news shook the globe.
Countless spectators who loved chaos immediately turned their attention to this sea.
Some mocked Ace's overestimation of himself.
Others lamented that a rising star was about to fall.
After all—even if this lion had grown old, not just anyone was qualified to tug at his beard.
On the deck of the Moby Dick, the atmosphere was like a powder keg ready to explode.
Aside from Whitebeard himself—seated firmly on his massive chair, his expression as calm as an ancient well—
Every other crewmember was red-faced and furious, weapons raised as they shouted angrily.
Curses rang out nonstop as everyone scrambled to volunteer, eager to teach that arrogant little brat a brutal lesson.
Yes, their father had stepped down from the throne of "strongest pirate," and his health was no longer what it once was.
But he was still the same man who had once shown the world a power capable of destroying it.
If it were someone like the Flying Admiral Golden Lion, or another Emperor of the Sea issuing a challenge, they might consider it reasonable—even prepare seriously.
But what was this?
A rookie who had barely been at sea, whose feathers hadn't even fully grown yet, daring to swagger in and provoke the Whitebeard Pirates?
Even declaring he wanted to challenge the father they revered like a god?
Sure, they were keeping a low profile now, no longer shouting the Whitebeard Pirates' name across the seas.
But that didn't mean they would ignore someone taking a dump on their heads.
"Pops, someone like that isn't worth troubling you. Let me go deal with him."
Marco stood casually with his hands on his hips, pineapple-shaped head tilted slightly upward, eyelids half-lowered as he spoke.
Having followed Whitebeard for so many years, he could naturally tell that Pops had taken an interest in this rookie.
He just hadn't expected the kid to be such a reckless fool—charging straight into the line of fire.
Since it seemed Whitebeard might be considering taking him in as a son, Marco, as the right-hand man, naturally stepped forward first.
Rookies who ate a Logia fruit and thought they were invincible flooded into the New World from the first half of the Grand Line every year.
Before that kid even set foot on their ship, Marco figured it was best for a senior like him to loosen his skin a bit—knock that arrogant edge down a notch.
"I want a piece of that brat too. Let him taste the New World's Haki and learn what it means that there's always someone stronger!"
Jozu followed with a deep, rumbling shout, his diamond-hard arm muscles tensing.
In the hearts of these veterans who had followed Whitebeard from the very beginning, even if Pops was no longer universally acknowledged as the strongest—
That position would forever belong to him.
For a newcomer to challenge their faith itself—
As division commanders, there was no way they could swallow that insult.
"Gurararara… I know exactly what you idiots are thinking."
Whitebeard's signature laughter shook the deck slightly. He narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into a bold smile.
Then his tone shifted.
"But this time, I'm going to meet that interesting little brat myself."
The moment those words fell, the once-noisy deck went silent.
His sons stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Pops… you're going personally?"
Given Whitebeard's current standing in the New World, aside from the Flying Admiral Golden Lion—
Even challenges from the other Emperors wouldn't necessarily make him move.
Let alone a rookie pirate who popped up every year like weeds.
Whitebeard's smile remained as heroic as ever as he lightly tapped the ground with his naginata.
"If he's calling me out by name, then I'll go see for myself just how much weight this arrogant brat carries."
Of course, Whitebeard knew perfectly well what he was doing.
After confirming the suspicion in his heart, he could roughly guess why this kid was acting like a headstrong fool and coming straight to him.
He wanted to see it with his own eyes—
What kind of metal that man's son was made of.
And more than that…
He wanted to turn the bloodline of his old rival into a son who bore his name.
With the captain's order given—
The Moby Dick, which had been anchored off the Sphinx coast for months like a floating fortress, finally raised anchor.
Its massive hull split the waves, heading straight for the island where the Spade Pirates were located.
Such an unhidden, large-scale movement immediately drew the attention of countless forces in the intelligence-webbed New World.
"So he really couldn't help himself and went to challenge Whitebeard, huh?"
Red-Haired Shanks sat atop a reef, holding the day's newspaper. His expression was relaxed, not the slightest bit worried.
He understood that old bastard Whitebeard's personality better than most.
As long as the kid didn't commit something unforgivable like killing a crewmate, surviving wouldn't be difficult at all.
Meanwhile, on the long voyage back to the East Blue—
Garp, "forced" into leave after a failed capture mission, sat cross-legged on the deck of a Marine warship.
He held that same newspaper in his hands.
Beneath the ever-grinning dog-face mask, a rare trace of melancholy and helplessness surfaced.
At the same time, high above the clouds in the Sky Kingdom—
Tenma listened to Robin's report of this latest development.
The corner of his mouth couldn't help but curl upward into a faint, knowing smile.
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