Disbelief filled the room.
Everyone kept rubbing their eyes, then looking back at the table, only to repeat the process again.
The three Devil Fruits resting there were unmistakably real.
Not one.
Not two.
But three identical fruits.
Three copies of the Bird-Bird Fruit, Model: Phoenix.
Three Mythical Zoan Devil Fruits.
Marco froze where he stood.
His eyes widened so much they looked ready to pop out of their sockets.
Shock was written all over his face.
Stumbling forward, he almost lost his balance.
With trembling fingers, he slowly reached toward one of the fruits.
The texture.
The shape.
The feeling.
Everything was exactly the same.
His hand shook.
"This..."
"This is identical to mine..."
His voice quivered.
"Unbelievable..."
The others immediately swarmed around the table.
Every pirate wore the same expression of astonishment.
"Ron is amazing!"
"He actually pulled it off!"
"Someone hit me! I must be dreaming!"
"Then why the hell did you kick me there?! That hurts, idiot!"
The entire laboratory descended into noisy chaos.
No one could stay calm after witnessing such a miracle.
Marco inhaled deeply, forcing himself to settle down.
"It’s real..."
"It’s actually real..."
"Of course it is."
Ron stepped forward.
Picking up one of the Phoenix Fruits, he walked over and offered it to Whitebeard.
"Pops."
"Why not test it yourself?"
Whitebeard accepted the fruit without the slightest hesitation.
A grin spread across his face as he glanced at Ron.
There was a playful sparkle in his eyes.
"This thing won’t blow up, will it?"
"Uh... no..."
Ron awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
That was definitely not the question he had expected.
Before he could explain anything—
Whitebeard burst into laughter.
"Gurararara!"
"Ron, my son... thank you."
"If this succeeds—"
"Become my son."
Ron: "..."
The room instantly erupted with laughter.
The pirates looked at Ron differently now.
Not as a visitor.
Not as an outsider.
But as one of their own.
A brother.
A member of the family.
Without another word, Whitebeard lifted the fruit and swallowed it.
Then—
He closed his eyes.
The room instantly fell silent.
Everyone stopped breathing.
No one dared utter a sound.
The atmosphere became suffocatingly tense.
Sweat gathered in countless palms.
Every gaze remained fixed on Whitebeard.
Filled with anticipation.
Filled with nervousness.
Filled with hope.
Please work...
Please succeed...
Pops has to make it...
Unlike everyone else, Ron remained perfectly calm.
The moment he had touched the fruit earlier, he had already activated the system reward:
[First Enchantment Success Rate: 100%]
Failure simply wasn’t possible.
And as expected—
A few moments later—
Brilliant white flames suddenly ignited across Whitebeard’s body.
These flames were unlike ordinary fire.
They carried no destruction.
No burning heat.
Instead, they radiated an overwhelming sense of vitality.
It was as if life itself had taken the form of fire.
Then the miracle unfolded.
The countless wounds covering Whitebeard’s body began healing before everyone’s eyes.
Scars faded away.
Damaged flesh regenerated.
Old injuries vanished one after another.
The accumulated damage of decades simply disappeared.
It was as though time itself had begun flowing backward.
Yet that wasn’t the end.
Whitebeard’s breathing grew smooth and steady.
The weakness that had lingered in his face disappeared.
The fatigue that had plagued him for years melted away.
Strength gradually returned to every part of his body.
He looked—
At least twenty years younger.
The brilliance returned to his eyes.
The presence of the World’s Strongest Man began resurfacing.
"Pops..."
"It worked!"
"He really has two Devil Fruit abilities now!"
"Hahaha!"
"Teach spent years scheming just to gain a second power!"
"And Pops got one this easily!"
"Thank you, Ron!"
"Move back!"
"The flames are getting bigger!"
The pirates quickly retreated.
The white flames surrounding Whitebeard intensified.
Their range expanded rapidly.
The pressure filling the room continued to rise.
Then—
Without warning—
The blazing fire began collapsing inward.
Compressing.
Condensing.
Shrinking.
Until a gigantic cocoon completely wrapped around Whitebeard.
A cocoon formed entirely from phoenix flames.
The sight was absolutely magnificent.
Within that cocoon—
Whitebeard’s life force surged higher and higher.
Stronger.
Stronger.
Even stronger.
It felt as though an ancient beast was awakening from a long slumber.
"Phoenix Cocoon!"
Marco’s entire body trembled with excitement.
"This is one of the Phoenix Fruit’s strongest abilities!"
"In this state, its healing reaches the absolute limit!"
"Old wounds!"
"Chronic injuries!"
"Years of accumulated damage!"
"It can erase all of them!"
Marco was practically shaking as he spoke.
His excitement was impossible to contain.
Crack.
A sharp sound suddenly echoed throughout the laboratory.
Then another.
And another.
Fine fractures began appearing across the enormous cocoon.
The cracks rapidly spread across its surface.
Moments later—
The entire cocoon shattered.
Countless white sparks drifted through the air like glowing snowflakes before slowly fading away.
When the last ember vanished—
Everyone stared silently.
Unable to speak.
Whitebeard still stood in the same spot.
Towering.
Broad-shouldered.
Magnificent.
His captain’s coat fluttered gently behind him.
Not a single scar remained.
Not a trace of illness could be seen.
The transformation was complete.
This was the power of the Phoenix.
The supreme ability of regeneration.
Not simple healing.
But restoration.
Renewal.
Rebirth.
The immense vitality contained within the Mythical Zoan had restored Whitebeard’s body to a state that should have been impossible.
"Haa..."
Whitebeard slowly let out a breath.
Then he opened his eyes.
The entire room froze.
Those eyes—
They no longer belonged to a dying old man.
They blazed with life.
With power.
With vigor.
Whitebeard clenched and unclenched his fingers.
Then rolled his shoulders.
His body felt light.
Comfortable.
Strong.
Every ache that had tormented him for years had disappeared.
Completely.
His heart pounded powerfully within his chest.
Each beat overflowed with vitality.
Every muscle responded flawlessly.
For the first time in many years—
He truly felt alive.
A genuine smile appeared on his face.
"Life..."
"What a wonderful thing."
At that moment, Whitebeard felt as though he had been reborn.
He was no longer the sickly Emperor dependent on medical equipment.
The strength to chase his dreams had returned.
The power to protect his family had returned.
The ability to stand atop the world once again had returned.
Then he turned toward Ron.
A rare softness appeared in his eyes.
Whitebeard slowly extended his right hand.
"Ron, my son."
"Become my son."