The boy was looking excitedly at the towering giant, over six meters tall, with a sturdy and upright figure and a crescent-shaped white mustache.
As a seasoned fan of One Piece, Shaq couldn’t possibly fail to recognize him; it was none other than the man known as the “Strongest Man in the World,” Whitebeard Edward Newgate!
He, Shaq, was originally from another world, an ordinary, seasoned office worker who used to slack off at work watching One Piece.
Then, for some unknown reason, he suddenly suffered an electric shock.
He initially thought his life was about to end, but when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in this prison.
He had transmigrated into the body of this 12-year-old boy named Shaq.
Through the integration of the original body’s memories, he learned that the original Shaq’s parents had long since died at the hands of slave traders.
He himself had been passed through several slave traders on the high seas and eventually sold to a fleet transporting the Celestial Tribute, to be offered to those Celestial Dragons.
Finally, he was plundered by this group of pirates onto this ship.
At this moment, Newgate also noticed Shaq, who was out of place among the others.
There was no other reason than the boy was looking at him with shining eyes, the admiration in them almost overflowing.
But he didn’t pay much attention, after all, he was a great pirate whose name resounded across the seas feared by the world and labeled a criminal by the Marines and the World Government.
It wasn’t strange to have a few admirers occasionally.
Crushing the prison lock with one hand, Newgate said to these people, “You’re free now.
I won’t harm you.”
After speaking, he didn’t bother with them anymore and turned to leave.
After all, he was a pirate with a fearsome reputation, and ordinary civilians wouldn’t easily trust his words.
Hearing Newgate’s words, these people hesitated, and the fear in the eyes of some was even more pronounced, because they recognized the identity of this towering man.
Although he opened the prison, no one dared to gamble their lives on his kindness.
Newgate was indifferent to their reactions and had already stepped out of the cabin, preparing to return to his small sailboat.
Just then, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming from behind him.
Newgate turned back in confusion and saw the boy from earlier stumbling after him.
Due to long-term malnutrition and prolonged confinement in this harsh prison, his frail body looked like it could collapse at any moment.
Shaq naturally wouldn’t let Newgate leave.
He knew that even in his previous life, his favorite character was this man the “Strongest Man in the World,” Whitebeard Edward Newgate.
Despite possessing power that could shake the seas, he didn’t pursue wealth or domination, desiring only a family, and he treated those under his flag as his sons.
Such a man was impossible not to admire.
Due to the weakness of this body, Shaq’s voice was very faint as he spoke,
“You… are Whitebeard… Edward Newgate, right?”
Newgate looked at the boy in front of him, who, despite being so weak he could barely stand, still stubbornly tried to straighten his back.
He couldn’t help but grin, a hint of interest appearing in his eyes, and replied,
“Gurararara, that’s right, brat… you’ve heard of me, have you?”
Hearing the reply, Shaq forced a smile despite his weakness and said,
“Of course… your name shakes the entire sea!”
Hearing a child say that, Newgate’s smile widened, and he let out another hearty laugh.
“Gurararara, you’re an interesting one… what do you want?
If you’re asking me to take you home, I don’t have the time for that.”
Upon hearing this, Shaq quickly shook his head.
His weak body was reaching its limit, but he still used all his strength to shout at Newgate,
“No… I have no home… I’ve always admired you… please let me follow you!
I want to sail under your name… Whitebeard!”
After saying this, he could no longer resist the exhaustion; his vision darkened, and he collapsed onto the ground.
“Gurararara… what an interesting kid.”
Whitebeard looked at Shaq lying there, then walked over and easily picked him up with one hand, as if lifting a small animal.
“Very well… I’ll grant that wish of yours.”
He then carried Shaq in one hand and Murakumogiri in the other, striding away from the pirate ship, leaving everything behind.
Returning to his small sailboat, he placed Shaq onto his bed.
Newgate’s massive body filled the small space as he looked at the unconscious boy with a rare trace of uncertainty, unsure how to take care of him.
After all, he had grown up in poverty and spent his life at sea he had no experience caring for a child.
“Should I give him some alcohol…?”
Newgate scratched his head.
“No… that’s too strong.
There should be some lighter sake around here.”
As he spoke, he squatted down and rummaged through a drawer, then suddenly paused.
“Linlin once said children shouldn’t drink alcohol…”
He muttered, frowning slightly.
“But this ship only has alcohol… what else can I do?”
A troubled Newgate rubbed his blond hair.
“Forget it… I started drinking young and turned out fine.
It shouldn’t matter.”
Recalling his own past, Newgate no longer hesitated.
He picked up a small bottle of sake and carefully poured a little into Shaq’s mouth.
Perhaps due to instinct, even while unconscious, Shaq swallowed it without resistance.
Seeing this, Newgate burst into laughter.
“Gurararara!
See?
It’s completely fine!
What does Linlin know about raising kids?
This is my way!”
And so, the man who would come to be known as the “Strongest Man in the World,” Whitebeard Edward Newgate, awkwardly began caring for the boy he had just taken in.
As night approached, the setting sun dyed the calm sea red.
Newgate stepped out of the cabin, looking slightly tired, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and let out a long breath.
Even he had to admit taking care of someone was more exhausting than fighting powerful enemies.
Still, the faint smile on his face revealed his true feelings.
Turning to glance at the sleeping Shaq inside the cabin, a thought quietly formed in his heart.
A family.
The warmth of that idea lingered.
Leaning against the ship’s rail, gazing at the distant horizon where seabirds soared above the waves, Newgate murmured softly,
“If that kid were my son… that wouldn’t be so bad.”
And once that thought appeared, it refused to fade.