In the New World, on the flagship of the Red Hair Pirates, Benn Beckman spat the cigarette butt he had been chewing on for a long time straight into the sea.
Dual fruits, he repeated, turning his head slowly to look over at Shanks.
Shanks leaned casually against the wooden railing, his right hand resting naturally on the hilt of his saber.
He spent a long time staring intently at Teach’s face displayed on the giant light screen in the sky.
Beckman, how much do you think a person has to hide deep inside their heart to go twenty long years without showing a single slip?
I don’t want to know.
Neither do I, Shanks said as he finally withdrew his gaze from the sky.
But I have to deal with this matter now.
Beckman frowned slightly at his captain.
What do you plan to do about him?
I haven’t decided yet, Shanks said, patting the wooden railing with his palm.
But one thing is absolutely certain: he cannot be allowed to get his hands on that second fruit, no matter what it takes from us.
He turned around and began walking across the deck toward the inner cabin.
After taking a few steps, he stopped and looked back over his shoulder at his first mate.
Right, tell the kitchen staff to prepare more meat for us.
Watching this video inventory system broadcast is quite mentally taxing, so we need to recharge our energy.
Beckman stood in silence, completely speechless at his captain’s sudden shift in attitude.
Having followed this reckless captain for so many years, he was already well used to this kind of behavior.
On the deck of the Moby Dick, Whitebeard finished watching all the content displayed on the screen.
Then he walked up to Teach with heavy steps.
Teach looked up from the wooden floorboards.
The two of them locked eyes in front of the entire crew.
In Whitebeard’s golden pupils, there was no longer any trace of anger remaining.
The initial fury had already burned itself out completely.
What remained inside his gaze now was something even more terrifying than raw rage.
Disappointment.
It was a complete, clean disappointment that left absolutely no room for any other emotion.
Marco, Whitebeard spoke up, breaking the tense silence.
Here, Pops, Marco answered immediately.
Tie him up right now, the captain ordered.
Lock him away in the deepest part of the bottom hold.
Marco was stunned for a moment by the command.
Pops, shouldn’t we just end him right…
Lock him up, Whitebeard repeated in a tone that allowed no argument.
Even if he is to be killed for his actions, it should not be done through a secret execution on this ship.
It should be a grand public execution just like the one Roger received years ago.
That is the only proper way to put the anxious seas at ease.
This mysterious screen in the sky probably was not just visible to his crew, which meant everyone across the world would have different thoughts when facing the existence of such a heinous individual.
Whitebeard did not want the world to fall into further chaos because of his family’s internal strife.
He turned his massive body around, walked back across the deck, and sat heavily in his giant chair.
Thatch, the old man called out.
Thatch looked up at his captain.
Whitebeard looked back at him with a serious expression.
The Dark-Dark Fruit, no matter when it appears during our voyages or who happens to find it, you must hand it over to Marco for safekeeping immediately.
Do not touch it yourself under any circumstances.
Thatch opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself and simply nodded his head.
Understood, Pops.
Whitebeard picked up a third cup of wine from the table.
Let us continue watching the broadcast.
Teach was quickly hoisted up from the deck by Jozu and Marco on either side, his heavy frame dragged roughly toward the entrance of the bottom hold.
He did not attempt to resist the commanders.
Without the unique power of the Dark-Dark Fruit to assist him, Marshall D.
Teach could not last even a single round against the powerhouses on this legendary ship.
As he passed by the central chair, Teach looked up at the captain for a brief moment.
Whitebeard did not look back at him at all.
Teach was dragged down into the darkness of the bottom hold, completely cut off from the rest of the crew.
The heavy iron door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the thick chains were locked tight around the bars.
The wide deck remained perfectly quiet for a long while.
High above them, the giant light screen was still glowing brightly against the clouds.
In the past timeline, inside the quiet tavern, Gol D.
Roger took his feet off the wooden table.
He was no longer interested in drinking his liquor.
Dual fruits, Roger muttered those two words to himself, his thick brows knitting tightly together in deep thought.
Rayleigh, have you ever heard of such a thing happening in the world before?
Someone eating two separate Devil Fruits and their body not exploding from the strain?
No, I never have, Rayleigh replied as he took off his glasses and began wiping the lenses clean with a cloth.
Common sense says you die instantly if you try it.
The human body simply cannot handle the violent conflict between two distinct abilities.
Then how exactly did this Teach fellow manage to do it in the future?
I do not know, Rayleigh stated honestly.
Roger tapped his fingers against the surface of the wooden table.
This guy is definitely no ordinary person.
Someone who can successfully hide on your old rival’s ship for twenty long years without being noticed is certainly no ordinary person, Rayleigh remarked as he switched which leg he had crossed.
Roger suddenly burst into a loud laugh.
But this particular laugh was quite different from his usual ones.
It was not his typical hearty, booming laugh, but rather the kind of sharp smile a man who has fought his entire life gives when he finally encounters a truly troublesome opponent.
Good.
The sea should always have guys like that around.
It would be far too boring if things were completely peaceful all the time.
Rayleigh glanced over at his captain with a deadpan expression.
Your future son is the one who is going to have to clean up this massive mess in the future.
What exactly are you laughing at?
Roger’s sudden laugh froze instantly on his face.
Can you please stop bringing that up all the time?
The images displayed on the giant light screen in the sky entered a brand new phase.
The dramatic background music shifted entirely.
Previously, the broadcast had featured a low, rumbling drumbeat with a incredibly tight rhythm suitable for tense war scenes.
Now, it switched over to a gentle piano piece that sounded slow and light, with every single note falling with a heavy emotional weight.
Austin had spent a very long time choosing this specific piece of music for the video inventory system.
It was an instrumental version of an old song, carefully selected to accompany the tragic scene of Ace’s death.
His logic for choosing the melody back then was simple: he did not want to overdo the sentimentality of the moment, but the tune absolutely had to strike a deep chord with the viewers.
He had succeeded completely.
He had struck a deep emotional chord with the entire world.
The tragic images on the light screen returned to the high Execution Platform.
This time, however, the camera did not focus its attention on the captured Ace.
Instead, it focused entirely on Garp.
Navy Hero, Monkey D.
Garp, Austin’s clear narration began to echo across the seas.
During the historic Marineford War, he sat directly beside the Execution Platform from the very beginning to the bitter end of the conflict.
On the screen, Garp was shown sitting quietly on the wooden structure, wearing his standard Marine vice admiral uniform.
The gold tassels on his formal epaulets swayed gently back and forth in the cold wind.
Just a few short steps behind his position was the kneeling figure of Ace.
As a high-ranking Vice Admiral of the Marines, his absolute duty was to guard the Execution Platform and ensure the execution of the pirate was carried out smoothly.
As Ace’s adoptive grandfather, he had to sit there and watch his own grandson die right before his eyes.
The screen showed a sharp close-up of Garp’s face.
The old man’s weathered face filled the frame.
There was absolutely no expression left on that face.
It was not a forced lack of emotion to maintain an appearance, but rather the empty blankness left behind after every single internal emotion had shattered into pieces.
The audience watching across the world did not need to see him burst into tears.
Just seeing that blank face displayed on the light screen was more than enough to convey his pain.
Down on the Windmill Village pier, Luffy squatted low at the bow of his small ship, looking up at the old man’s face in the sky.
That was his grandfather.
Grandpa, Luffy’s voice sounded very soft in the quiet air.
He watched Garp sitting by the Execution Platform on the screen, completely motionless, looking exactly like an old stone statue.
Why aren’t you saving Ace from them?
He truly did not understand the situation.
His grandpa was so incredibly strong.
That old man who would hit him on the head at the slightest provocation, whose heavy fists were as hard as actual iron cannonballs and who had beaten both him and Ace since they were little children, how could he just sit there without moving a single muscle to help?
The video inventory system screen quickly provided the answer for him.
Whitebeard came to save Ace from his fate, and Luffy came to help him too.
On the screen, the future Luffy was shown covered in bloody wounds, having fought his way all the way from the depths of Impel Down to the plaza of Marineford.
Monkey D.
Luffy broke into the Marineford War battlefield with only one single goal in his mind: to save his beloved brother from death.
And the final line of absolute defense standing directly in his way…
In the dramatic scene, Luffy rushed wildly up the wooden stairs toward the platform.
Garp stepped out and blocked the path forward.
The two family members faced off against each other.
Luffy’s eyes were completely red from exhaustion.
Garp’s eyes were also entirely red with tears.
Grandpa, get out of the way!
Luffy shouted those exact words on the light screen.
Garp did not move an inch from his spot.
He raised his massive fist into the air to strike.
But that legendary fist, when it finally reached its highest point in the air, stopped completely.
Garp chose to let himself be knocked down by Luffy’s attack.
Austin’s narration made a deliberate, heavy pause right at this sentence to let the words sink in.
He didn’t dodge the blow.
A powerful man who could trade blows head-on with the Pirate King Roger himself was knocked straight to the ground by his seventeen-year-old grandson’s simple punch.
It was not that he could not win the clash.
It was simply that he did not want to win against his grandson.
On the screen, Garp fell heavily onto the stone steps.
His held-back tears finally spilled over and fell.
The legendary old man was already in his seventies.
He had served faithfully in the Marines his entire life.
He had beaten Roger in combat, defeated countless dangerous pirates over the decades, and earned the glorious title of Navy Hero using nothing but his two fists.
He had almost never shed a single tear in his entire life.
But as he lay defeated on the cold steps of the Execution Platform, his face pressed tightly against the stone slabs, heavy tears crashed down continuously.
Sengoku, hold me down with your strength.
Do not let me get up from this spot, Garp’s voice on the light screen trembled with intense emotion.
Otherwise, I won’t be able to stop myself from murdering Akainu for what he did.
When this shocking line came out from the light screen, every single person across the entire sea who saw the scene fell into a deep silence.
In Windmill Village, the old village chief who had been kneeling and kowtowing earlier was now crying his eyes out in grief, even though he did not even know Garp personally.
The fisherman’s wife standing beside him wiped her damp eyes and cursed at the sky.
What a horrible piece of junk this sky screen is, showing us such heartbreaking stuff.
Luffy did not shed any tears.
He remained squatted at the bow of his ship, gripping the brim of his Straw Hat so incredibly hard that the thick veins on the back of his hand bulged out one by one.
He did not cry, but his teeth were clenched tight against each other.
Grandpa, he only uttered those two words into the wind, and then he fell completely silent as the video continued to play.