The days in the New World moved differently.
Here, the sea wasn't just a body of water — it was alive. It whispered secrets, howled storms, and birthed monsters from its depths. The skies shifted without reason, and danger wasn't the exception, it was the rule. Yet, for 'Black Rose, Lupin', it wasn't the chaos of the New World that unnerved him — it was the people he sailed alongside.
The Whitebeard Pirates were more than a crew. They were a gathering of legends, each division led by commanders whose names were etched into history. If Lupin intended to survive here, let alone rise within their ranks, he needed more than Whitebeard's acceptance.
He needed their respect.
And the system didn't waste any time reminding him.
---
[New Monthly Quest Issued]
Objective: Earn the respect of all Whitebeard Pirates' Division Commanders.
Time Limit: 30 Days
Reward: 1 Creation Point, 1 Mystery Chest
Failure Penalty: System Lock for 1 year
---
"Tch… figures." Lupin muttered under his breath, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "No side quests either, huh? Fine. Straight to business."
He set his sights first on Izo, the 16th division commander — a man who carried himself with grace and an unspoken authority. Twin flintlocks rested at his sides, his carefully styled hair and elegant kimono contrasting the rough-cut pirates surrounding him.
It would take time.
And Lupin knew better than to expect instant results.
Day One
On the first day, Lupin approached during a meal gathering. The crew's long tables overflowed with food and drink, voices loud with stories of battle and treasure.
Lupin took a seat within earshot of Izo, joining conversations but never forcing himself in. He listened more than he spoke, gauging what drew Izo's interest. A sharp comment about marksmanship here. A disdainful glance at an obnoxious drunk there.
When sparring sessions opened on deck that afternoon, Lupin volunteered for pistol practice. His shots rang clean, each bullet splitting distant bottles lined up as targets. He felt Izo's gaze on him but earned no words.
That evening, Lupin left a bottle of fine sake — a rare, smooth brand — near Izo's table without a word.
Progress was subtle, but necessary.
Day Two
The next morning brought a foggy dawn and a fresh chance. Lupin joined a small scouting party into a nearby island cove, and when a skirmish broke out with a group of ambitious rookie pirates, he fought efficiently, showing neither recklessness nor hesitation.
By the time they returned, Lupin's steady aim and composure under fire were quietly acknowledged. Some of the crew clapped him on the shoulder. A nod from Izo was all he earned.
Later, as evening fell, Lupin lingered near Izo during weapon maintenance, making casual conversation about firearms. He asked thoughtful questions about shot composition and firing stances — never boasting, only listening.
Izo glanced up from his flintlock. "Not many care about form these days. They think a gun's power lies in the shot. It's in the hand and mind behind it."
Lupin smirked. "I figure a weapon's just a reflection of its wielder."
A flicker of approval crossed Izo's face.
By nightfall, as the crew gathered for music and drink, Izo finally approached him. He offered a sake cup without ceremony.
"I've seen how you carry yourself," Izo said. "How you fight… and how you speak about family."
Lupin took the cup, locking eyes with him. "Loyalty means everything. Always has."
A smirk tugged at Izo's lips. "You might fit in here after all."
And then, at long last:
---
[Commander Bond Formed: Izo]
Progress: 1/16
---
Lupin exhaled, savoring the sake's burn. Two days well spent.
Day Three
With Izo's respect earned, Lupin wasted no time. His next target was Fosha, commander of the 15th division — a burly, broad-shouldered warrior known for his booming laughter, wild brawls, and curved blade. He was the kind of man who valued action over words.
And Lupin knew just how to get his attention.
He found Fosha on the training deck, hammering through sparring matches. The air rang with clashing steel and shouted taunts.
"Oi, Fosha!" Lupin called, striding through the circle of pirates.
Fosha arched a brow, his grin wide and dangerous. "You need something, rookie?"
"I want a match."
The words dropped like a stone in water. Conversations died. Heads turned.
Fosha's grin stretched wider. "You've got guts. Hope you've got more than that."
Terms were set: no Devil Fruit abilities, just weapons. Fosha with his trusted blade, Lupin with his pistol.
A ring formed. The air thickened with anticipation.
Fosha lunged, his blade a flash of light. Lupin sidestepped cleanly, raising his pistol. His first shot grazed Fosha's shoulder — a deliberate near-miss. Gasps sounded from the watching crowd.
"You're quick," Fosha rumbled, pivoting with surprising speed for a man his size.
Lupin ducked a horizontal slash, rolled, and fired again. This time, the bullet knocked Fosha's sword from his grasp.
Silence.
Then, Fosha's booming laughter shattered the tension.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he roared, slapping a heavy hand onto Lupin's shoulder. "You've got skill, rookie — and bigger balls than most."
Lupin holstered his pistol, smirking. "Glad to hear it."
A chime sounded in his mind.
---
[Commander Bond Formed: Fosha]
Progress: 2/16
---
The crew erupted in cheers. Some clapped Lupin's back, others handed him a drink. In a single day, through a single match, he'd earned something gold couldn't buy — respect.
That Night
As the bonfire crackled and music filled the night air, Lupin sat at the edge of the gathering, watching the waves beyond. Two commanders down. Fourteen remained.
It wouldn't be easy. Some would demand battles. Others would test his character. A few might refuse outright.
But that was fine.
He wasn't chasing an easy life. He was building a legend — one bond, one battle, one name at a time.
And tonight, for the first time since joining the Whitebeard Pirates, Lupin raised his cup with the others, knowing he wasn't just a stranger anymore.
He was one of them.
Tomorrow, the next challenge awaited.