Who Is It?
2: Chapter 2: The Old Era?
Who Is It?
“The Marineford War?” Luffy scratched his head.
“What war?
Where is it being fought?
Who is fighting whom?” He crouched on the bow of his small boat, head tilted to the side, staring at the golden light screen in the sky.
The words on the light screen had not disappeared yet.
The line Marineford War: The End of the Old Era and the Rampage of the New Era hung there quietly.
The font had a strange glowing effect—not exactly flashy, but very eye-catching.
“Luffy!
Come back first!” On the dock, the Village Chief shouted desperately.
“No way.” Luffy did not even turn his head.
Makino held her hands to her chest, looking up at the light screen.
She did not understand much about wars, but as soon as those words appeared, she felt a chill in her heart.
The End of the Old Era.
The Rampage of the New Era.
“What…
is this talking about?” she whispered.
No one could answer her.
The fishermen of Foosha Village gathered in small groups, shading their eyes with their hands as they looked up at the sky.
Some cursed, “What the hell is that?” while others said, “Could it be the end of the world?” One old man had already knelt down and started kowtowing.
Luffy ignored them.
He stared intently at the light screen, his nostrils twitching as he sniffed hard.
“This thing…
has no smell.” He patted his straw hat and stood up straight again.
That voice was still echoing in his mind…
Inventory, Pirate King World, Marineford War.
The words Pirate King made his ears perk up.
“Something related to the Pirate King?” Luffy grinned.
“Then I better take a good look!” He plopped down on the bow, legs crossed and hands propped on his knees, striking a pose like someone settling in to watch a show.
…
Marineford.
“The End of the Old Era?” Kizaru repeated the words, drawing out his tone.
He tilted his head to look at the sky, the golden light reflecting off his sunglasses.
“The Rampage of the New Era?
Hmm~ How scary~” Aokiji leaned against a wall, silent.
He stared at the line of text on the light screen for a long time, his lips moving slightly, but he said nothing.
Sengoku stood by the window, hands behind his back, his knuckles cracking between his fingers.
“The Marineford War,” Sengoku repeated those four words.
A war meant two sides facing off.
A war fought in Marineford…
who would have the guts to start a war on the Marines’ home turf?
Garp stopped eating rice crackers.
He stood next to Sengoku, arms crossed.
“Sengoku.” “Yeah.” “This thing is talking about the future.” Sengoku did not argue.
He had come to the same conclusion.
The voice spoke of an “inventory,” and its tone was too relaxed—so relaxed it did not sound like someone experiencing the event.
Instead, it sounded like a bystander recounting something that had already happened.
“If it is the future…” Sengoku lowered his voice, “then who does ‘The End of the Old Era’ refer to?” Garp did not answer.
He did not want to answer.
The Marine soldiers in the plaza were in a state of chaos.
Some shouted to assemble, others yelled to find cover, and a few fresh recruits were so scared they crouched on the ground covering their heads.
Akainu walked over from the other side of the plaza.
He was in a sharp military uniform, and every step he took carried the heat of magma.
The stone slabs beneath his feet turned slightly red.
“What is this crap?” Akainu glanced up at the light screen, saying only those words.
Kizaru leaned in: “Akainu, what do you think this is…” “Who cares what it is,” Akainu’s tone was as scalding as his fruit ability.
“It cannot be blocked, it cannot be broken, and it cannot be detected.
Then just wait and see what it wants to do.” He stood on the steps, hands thrust into his pockets.
Aokiji glanced at him.
Three Admirals, three stances.
But none of the three left.
They were all waiting.
…
New World, Moby Dick.
“‘The End of the Old Era’?” Marco repeated, blue flames flickering around his shoulders.
“Pops, who is it talking about?” Whitebeard ignored him.
The old man sat back down in his giant chair and had a nurse bring him a cup of sake.
He took a huge gulp, the liquid dripping down his chin and onto his cloak.
“The Old Era,” Whitebeard chewed on the words.
“Gurararara, it is likely talking about my generation.” “Pops!” “What’s the rush?” Whitebeard raised his cup.
“Since it wants to speak, let it.
I want to see for myself what this ‘End’ is all about.” He smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes beneath that smile.
On the deck, the Division Commanders looked at each other.
Thatch leaned toward Marco and whispered, “Marco, do you think this is some kind of Devil Fruit ability?” “No,” Marco shook his head.
“You saw Pops’ punch just now.
The power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit had no effect on it.
A fruit ability cannot do this.” “Then what exactly is this?” “How should I know?” Thatch scratched his hair and looked up at the light screen again.
Ace had not spoken the whole time.
He leaned against the mast, arms crossed, his flames already extinguished.
He was thinking about that name…
Monkey D.
Luffy.
With such a strange phenomenon appearing, he wondered what that kid would do when he saw it.
“Luffy…” he murmured softly, an unconscious smile forming on his lips.
In the farthest corner of the deck, Teach lowered his head, hiding his face with the brim of his hat.
“Hey, Teach.” A crewmate nearby patted his shoulder.
“Why are you shrinking back here?
Go over and take a look.” “Hahaha, it’s nothing, nothing.” Teach squeezed out a smile and waved his hand.
“I was just startled.
Who wouldn’t be scared seeing something so big appear out of thin air in the sky?” The crewmate laughed and walked away.
Teach’s smile vanished the moment the other man turned around.
…
Red Hair Pirates, somewhere in the New World.
“Everyone, listen up.
This thing does not seem aggressive, so don’t panic yet.” Benn Beckman stood at the bow with a cigarette in his mouth, looking up at the light screen.
On the deck, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, and Limejuice were huddled together whispering.
Shanks walked out of the cabin, one hand resting on the sword at his waist, the other…
was gone.
An empty sleeve swayed in the sea breeze.
He looked up at the light screen.
“‘Marineford War’?” Shanks said aloud.
“Interesting.” Beckman turned to look at him: “Do you know what this is?” “No,” Shanks said honestly.
“But I know one thing: this thing covers the entire ocean.
Whether it is the East Blue or the New World, everyone is looking at the same light screen.” “How can you be sure?” “A feeling.” Beckman’s mouth twitched.
Having followed this Captain for so many years, he was long used to answers like “a feeling.” Shanks walked to the bow and leaned against the railing.
…
The text on the golden light screen slowly dissipated.
In its place, an image appeared.
That voice rang out again.
It was still that young voice with a strange accent, drilling directly into everyone’s head.
“Alright, fam, let’s first take a look at the cause of this war.” A silhouette appeared on the light screen.
Backlit, sea breeze, a white cloak.
Everyone who knew this person understood the moment they saw that outline.
Whitebeard, Edward Newgate.
Aboard the Moby Dick, the real Whitebeard suddenly tightened his grip on his sake cup.
The cup shattered.
Sake and glass shards dripped from between his fingers.
“Is that…
me?”