Silence.
The lively noise and laughter on the deck seemed to be choked out by an invisible hand, vanishing without a trace.
Everyone froze.
They stared at the Fifth Division Captain, "Flower Sword" Vista, who had been forced back seven or eight steps with one punch, the hilt in his hand trembling ever so slightly.
Then they looked at the newcomer still standing in place, withdrawing his fist, completely unscathed.
The air seemed frozen.
Vista drew in a deep breath and shook out his numbed wrist. The usual playful arrogance on his face was gone, replaced entirely by shock and disbelief.
He stared at Lucian Thorn and spoke each word with weight.
"You little brat… you really are a monster."
'I underestimated you! Even though I only used thirty percent of my strength, to withstand me like that—impressive!'
The words fell like a boulder into a calm lake, sending ripples that shook the crowd to its core.
"I… I didn't see wrong, did I? Captain Vista… got pushed back by one punch?"
"Sure, Captain Vista went easy on him, but still!"
"That rookie… blocked Captain Vista's sword with just his fist?"
"You've got to be kidding me! That's a world-famous great swordsman!"
Gasps and sharp intakes of breath rippled through the crew.
The way the sailors looked at Lucian changed completely.
If before it had been curiosity, just watching for fun, now it was nothing but awe and cautious respect.
Lucian didn't respond to Vista's evaluation. He only bowed slightly.
"Thank you for your guidance, Captain Vista."
His attitude remained humble, but from that moment on, no one dared to treat him as just a lucky kid who happened to board the ship.
In the most direct and shocking way possible, he had proven his worth.
"Monster Rookie."
No one knew who first shouted the title, but like wildfire, it spread through every corner of the Moby Dick by the end of the afternoon.
Night fell.
On deck, the bonfires were lit once again. Crew members drank heavily and tore into their meat, the atmosphere seemingly no different from usual.
But in between gulps of sake, many eyes kept drifting toward the boy sitting quietly in the corner, polishing plates.
Their gazes carried a hint of reverence they hadn't even realized themselves.
Meanwhile, below the captain's quarters in the meeting hall, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Here, it was suffocating.
Around a round table sat the Whitebeard Pirates' core—the division captains present on the ship.
First Division Captain, "Phoenix" Marco.
Third Division Captain, "Diamond" Jozu.
Fifth Division Captain, "Flower Sword" Vista.
And several others.
No one spoke.
Marco's knuckles tapped the tabletop unconsciously—tok, tok, tok—the only sound in the room.
Finally, the other protagonist of today's incident, Vista, broke the silence.
"Marco, that kid's not normal."
His tone was grim.
"I crossed blades with him. The precision of his Observation Haki… it was like he could predict my moves in advance. It was eerie."
"And then that last punch."
Vista paused, recalling the sensation. A trace of unease flickered across his face.
"The strength of his Armament Haki… astonishing. That's not something a rookie should possess."
Across the table, Jozu folded his thick arms and spoke in his rumbling voice.
"Exactly. When I fished him out of the sea, he was as weak as a normal person. How could he gain such power in such a short time?"
All eyes turned toward Marco, seated at the head.
When Pops wasn't around, he was the one making decisions.
Marco stopped tapping his fingers. His usually half-lidded, lazy eyes sharpened with clarity and cold light.
"We know nothing about his past."
"He said his family was slaughtered by Kaido's subordinates. We can't verify that."
"His admiration for Pops is… fanatical. Almost too deliberate."
Marco's voice was calm, but each word struck the captains like a hammer.
"Now he's revealed a terrifying strength completely at odds with his so-called 'rookie' status."
"It's all too coincidental. Too sudden."
The air grew heavier still.
Marco scanned his brothers, then rose slowly to his feet.
"We're family. But we can't accept someone of unknown origin—someone who might have hidden motives—so close to Pops."
"This has to be clarified."
He pushed his chair back, his expression grim.
"I'll ask him myself."
Jozu and Vista exchanged a glance, then stood immediately, wordless, flanking Marco as they left the room.
The overwhelming aura radiating from the three top captains made the temperature in the chamber seem to plummet.
Lucian had just finished polishing the last plate and was about to return to his makeshift bunk.
Suddenly, the light around him dimmed.
He looked up.
Three towering figures loomed over him like mountains, their shadows swallowing him whole.
The Phoenix, Marco.
The Diamond, Jozu.
The Flower Sword, Vista.
The crew, who had been laughing and drinking moments ago, instantly fell silent at the sight of the three captains standing together with such serious faces. They backed away, their eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.
Lucian's heart sank.
He knew it was inevitable.
Still, he rose slowly, keeping that harmless, humble smile plastered on his face.
"Good evening, Captain Marco, Captain Jozu, Captain Vista. Is there something you need me to do?"
Marco ignored the polite words.
He simply stared at Lucian, his half-lidded eyes piercing through to the boy's very soul.
Behind him, Jozu and Vista shifted slightly, blocking every possible escape route.
Silence.
Oppressive silence.
At last, Marco spoke. His voice was calm, but it carried a crushing weight.
"Lucian."
"Who exactly are you?"