Ohara, Golden Island.
Whitebeard Newgate was bored out of his skull. Thankfully, Tom the shipwright was there to share a few drinks, keeping things lively. As for Vegapunk, the scientist? No common ground there—they just didn't click!
"Urghahaha! Newgate, you think Shiki's getting his face pounded in by Shirokiri right now? That guy's too cocky for his own good!"
Tom took a swig of rum, his deep, booming voice brimming with confidence. He knew the crew's quirks like the back of his hand.
"Gurarara!" Newgate chuckled. "Don't worry. Once he's done getting thrashed, I'll step in and settle the score next time!"
Thinking of Shiki's smug attitude made Newgate grin.
...
Just then, a group of archaeologists from Ohara trudged toward Golden Island, hauling a cart piled high with homemade brews. With Brook and the others gone, they figured they could sweet-talk the two big lugs—Newgate and Tom—into letting them peek at the three ancient texts hidden under black cloth beneath the massive Golden Bell.
They'd gone all out, buying up every drop of Ohara's local liquor to get the pair drunk enough to slip by.
"Pero, you sure this'll work?"
Nico Barobi adjusted her oversized black glasses, shouting to Charles Pero, who was pulling the cart. Behind them, two kids—Nico Herodotus and Charles Olvia—pushed with all their might.
"Don't sweat it, Barobi," Pero called back, his silver hair glinting under his gold-rimmed glasses. "I've been watching these two for days. They're softies for kids. If Herodotus and Olvia play nice and toss out some sweet talk, we'll have 'em eating out of our hands!"
Pero wasn't just an archaeologist—he was a psychologist too. He'd pegged Newgate as a pirate with a soft spot for kids, and Tom, the chubby Fishman, wasn't much different. They didn't act like typical pirates at all!
Barobi glanced at the duo. Sure enough, a few Tontatta tribesfolk perched on their shoulders, chatting away. The scene was downright wholesome.
Ever since the Tontatta had settled on Ohara, planting crops and moving into the Tree of Knowledge, the islanders and scholars had warmed to them fast. In just a few days, the hardworking, honest little folk were fully embraced.
King Gandalf of the Tontatta even sent a patrol squad to join the Seastone Rifle Corps and Samurai Swordsmen, helping keep order and protect the island.
...
A sudden roar from Qilin Lion snapped everyone to attention, startling the archaeologists. Newgate's eyes flicked toward the approaching cart, his nap interrupted.
Ohara wasn't exactly crawling with powerhouses, but as the island's temporary top dog, Newgate had to handle whatever came up.
"Newgate-sama, th-this… this is a gift of fine liquor for you!"
Charles Pero stammered, rattled by Qilin Lion's roar, which carried a hint of sonic force. The two kids, Herodotus and Olvia, clung to their fathers' legs, trembling.
Olvia's wide eyes sparkled with curiosity as she stared at the majestic golden lion and the towering Whitebeard approaching.
"A gift of liquor?" Newgate raised an eyebrow. "Nobody hands out free drinks without a motive. What's your game?"
He wasn't buying that these bespectacled scholars were just feeling generous. They had an angle, and he wanted to hear it.
"I just wanted to play with you! That's why Papa brought the drinks to butter you up!"
Olvia's quick thinking saved the day, bailing out the two adults who were top-notch in theory but useless in practice. Barobi and Pero froze, grateful for the kid's sharp wit.
"Play with me?"
Newgate looked down at the silver-haired girl hugging his leg, her big, glowing eyes melting his heart. She was so adorable he nearly blurted out, "Be my daughter!"—but her dad was right there, so he held back.
"Gurarara! Hear that, Tom? I've still got cute little girls lining up to hang with me!"
Newgate beamed, turning to brag to Tom about his charm.
"What's your name, kiddo? If you wanna come play, just swing by anytime! Me and Tom aren't as scary as we look—and neither are the rest of the crew!"
He crouched down, doing his best to seem friendly. For a pirate, meeting a kid like this was a rare treat.
"I'm Olvia! We bought all this booze just for you. Can we be friends?"
The silver-haired girl didn't flinch, her social skills on full display like a pint-sized party animal. She let go of Pero's leg and bounded toward Newgate, shouting with confidence.
"Gurarara! Alright, I'll take the drinks. You're my friend now, Olvia! If anyone messes with you, just drop my name—Whitebeard Newgate!"
Newgate hoisted a massive barrel from the cart and took a swig. No poison, no sedatives—his iron constitution could handle most toxins anyway. Well, except maybe something cooked up by Crocus, that shady ship doctor obsessed with Fishman Island's deadliest poisons.
He bought Olvia's story for now. With him on the island, nothing was going to go wrong. What kind of trouble could a few bookworms stir up?
...
Newgate invited Olvia and the others to Golden Island for a proper welcome. When he learned the two adults were archaeologists, he pieced together their real goal: the historical texts under the Golden Bell.
Brook had been clear—no scholars were to see those texts yet. Newgate made a mental note to keep the black cloth secure.
Olvia, sharp as a tack for her age, even tried to ply him with more drinks! Newgate couldn't help but laugh. Even if he downed the whole cart, he wouldn't get drunk—not with Tom, the walking liquor tank, by his side.
As the barrels emptied with no sign of Newgate or Tom slowing down, Barobi and Pero realized their plan to sneak a peek at the texts was a bust.
Newgate didn't call them out. Instead, he sent them off with a hearty grin after the last drop was gone, his laughter echoing across the island.
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+300 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg