Peak Whitebeard turned to face the recently arrived Jozu, Vista, and the others. The wild smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by an imperious scowl.
"What are you all still standing around here for?"
His voice rolled like distant thunder, filled with undeniable authority.
"I wanted some time alone—get the hell back to the ship!"
"But, Pops—"
Jozu tried to speak, but was silenced by a single cold glare from Peak Whitebeard.
That gaze carried such pressure that even this young Third Division Commander felt his heart skip a beat, the rest of his words caught in his throat.
"GO."
Just one word. Sharp and absolute.
The captains dared not linger. Swallowing their confusion and concern, they quickly withdrew from the battlefield, returning to the Moby Dick.
Soon, the coastline—left in ruins by two versions of Whitebeard—was silent once more.
Peak Whitebeard didn't look back. He simply spoke to the empty air behind him:
"Come out."
"I've sent everyone away."
Meanwhile, hidden in the folds of space, Lucian Thorn suddenly heard a string of urgent system prompts ring out in his mind.
Ding! Legendary Character Logbook detected at close range. Collecting data…
Ding! Detected presence at special spacetime coordinates. Hidden Mechanism 'Echoes of an Era' activated!
Warning! Detected two ultra-tier energies from another era. Attempting forced analysis…
Analysis failed! Energy level too high. Target too distant. Data unclear!
Simulating from residual traces… Simulation successful!
Acquired ???-Tier Character Log Fragment (1/3): Gol D. Roger (Peak)!
Acquired ???-Tier Character Log Fragment (1/3): "Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh (Peak)!
For a moment, Lucian forgot how to breathe.
Them?!
Those two monsters of legend?!
Even though it was only a fragment of their character logs, it was enough to send his heart pounding.
"System, what can I do with these fragments?"
Ding! Collect three of the same-named fragments to synthesize a complete logbook. The host can consume energy to summon the character temporarily or use a one-time 'Power Absorption' for permanent self-enhancement.
Lucian's heart raced faster.
If he could obtain even half the peak power of Roger and Rayleigh…
He might truly be able to face the Five Elders head-on!
"Perfect."
Lucian suppressed his excitement and issued the command.
"Archive all of these logs. I'll need them in the future."
Only after completing this did he nod toward the elder Whitebeard and Marco.
"Pops. Marco. It's safe now."
Buzz.
Space rippled.
Their figures emerged a few meters behind Peak Whitebeard, appearing out of thin air.
Peak Whitebeard slowly turned around, his golden eyes scanning across the three, finally settling on the older version of himself.
Two men—witnesses to two different eras—stood silently on the land they had just destroyed with their own fists.
It was the elder Whitebeard who broke the silence first.
He slumped down onto a relatively flat boulder, rubbing his sore lower back.
"Gurararara… It's been ages since I stretched these old bones like that."
Peak Whitebeard looked at him—at that hunched, aging version of himself—and clicked his tongue. He mimicked the movement, plopped down on a larger rock, and pulled out an enormous gourd of sake.
"Hey, old man."
He tossed it over.
The elder Whitebeard caught it smoothly, uncorked it, and took a huge swig.
The rich aroma of alcohol filled the air.
"Gura… ha…"
He wiped the sake from his lips and passed the gourd to the still-stunned Marco.
"Have a drink."
And just like that, four people who were never supposed to meet now sat around the ruins of a shattered battlefield—starting what might be the most surreal drinking party in the world.
After three rounds of drinks—
Peak Whitebeard finally spoke.
His eagle-sharp eyes locked onto the elder version of himself.
"You old bastard…"
"You really are 'me.'"
"The moment our fists collided—I felt it."
That resonance, deep in the soul, in their bloodline, and in the very heart of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, was not something that could ever be faked.
Lucian had expected those words. But hearing them still brought a wave of relief—both for him and Marco.
Yet what came next made both of them gape in disbelief.
Lucian couldn't hold it in anymore.
He looked around at the near-apocalyptic destruction, then back at the two Whitebeards, who now sat drinking like old friends.
Finally, he blurted out the question that had been stuck in his throat.
"Um… Young Pops."
He looked at them both.
"If you already realized he was you… then… why did you fight for so long?!"
Marco nodded furiously beside him.
Yeah! You nearly cracked the whole island in half!
At the question, both versions of Whitebeard paused, sake gourd raised.
They slowly turned to look at Lucian—
With the exact same look.
Like they were staring at a complete idiot.
Same angle. Same posture.
Next second—
Two voices—one aged and gravelly, the other deep and booming—rang out together, utterly unapologetic:
"Because I wanted to know what it felt like to fight myself!"
"..."
"..."
The air… froze.
Lucian stood there, jaw slack, his brain nearly overheating.
Marco's sake gourd slipped from his fingers, splashing alcohol all over the ground.
And he didn't even notice.
Huh?
What?
That's it?
That's the reason?!
Because of some childish curiosity like "what would happen if I fought myself"?
You destroyed half the island!
You nearly killed everyone with the shockwaves!
What even is this?!
The most unreasonable reason for a fight in history?!