It took the Whitebeard Pirates a week to find the Roger Pirates—four days of non-stop sailing through the New World, finally crossing into Paradise, and the last two days to track them down.
Now, near the turbulent waters surrounding Jaya Island, the Roger Pirates were sailing toward the infamous lawless zone, aiming to reach Sky Island via the legendary knock-up stream. Roger had long spoken of the mysterious floating island from the tale of 'Noland the Liar'. He had always wanted to see it for himself—real or not. But after Robert confirmed its existence beyond any doubt, Roger's curiosity transformed into an unstoppable desire. Like a child discovering the factory of his favourite candy, he ordered the crew to change course immediately.
Gaban, as navigator, stood quietly near the helm, watching the oddly calm waters stretch ahead. His job was to guide them safely through the chaotic madness of the Grand Line, but the unusual stillness around the approaching lawless island gnawed at his instincts.
It felt like the calm before a storm.
Rayleigh clapped him on the back with a chuckle. "What's wrong, lover boy? Something bothering you?"
Gaban scowled—not at the jab, but at his gut feeling.
"It just feels like something's about to happen... and real soon."
Rayleigh raised an eyebrow. "Well, I hope you're not jinxing it—"
His words were cut off by a sudden cry from the crow's nest.
"PIRATE SHIP AT TWO O'CLOCK—IT'S WHITEBEARD!"
The entire crew froze. Roger, who had been deep in discussion with Robert about navigating the knock-up stream safely, turned sharply. He rose from his seat, walked toward the bow, and leapt onto the figurehead, eyes narrowing at the fast-approaching vessel in the distance.
"Newgate," he muttered, lips curling into an excited grin.
—
Aboard the Moby Dick
"Pops, we've spotted the Roger Pirates. They're heading straight for us," Marco reported, soaring high above the ship. His body was engulfed in radiant blue flames, wings of fire spreading wide as he hovered in the air.
Whitebeard strode forward and stood atop the figurehead of his ship, the sea breeze tugging at his coat. A massive grin split his face as he sensed Roger's rising Haki from afar. His grip on his enormous naginata tightened, and in response, his own Haki surged forth—coating the blade in invisible Armament.
Then came the flood of Conqueror's Haki.
It burst from him in a tidal wave, invisible but palpable, saturating the air with sheer force.
—
Back on the Oro Jackson
Roger grinned wildly, unsheathing Ace, his Supreme Grade blade. His indomitable Haki flared as he coated the blade, an invisible storm of Conqueror's Haki crackling around him like lightning.
As the two ships closed in on each other, time itself seemed to slow.
Two titans.
Two legends.
Two monsters of the sea.
Without hesitation, both leapt from their ships—blades raised high.
"NEWGATE—!"
"ROGER—!"
Their weapons collided mid-air, but did not touch. A pulse of pressure erupted from the clash, splitting the skies.
The ocean beneath them churned violently, birthing monstrous waves. The sky darkened in an instant as bolts of lightning slammed into the sea around them. And yet, the most shocking thing of all—their weapons never even made contact.
It was as if an invisible force kept them apart, an impenetrable wall of raw Haki colliding in place of steel.
Their Conqueror's Haki roared through the air like a tsunami, seeking to flatten everything in its path. Yet, miraculously, their own crews remained unaffected—their intent never aimed at their allies.
But the same could not be said for the people of Jaya.
On the lawless island, pirates began dropping like flies—unconscious, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolled back into their skulls.
—
Back in the air, with Roger and Whitebeard
Still suspended mid-leap, they grinned at each other like madmen. Then, with a grunt, Roger pushed harder, forcing Whitebeard backward.
Newgate's eyes narrowed.
He twisted in midair, landed smoothly back aboard the Moby Dick—and Roger did the same, leaping back to the Oro Jackson.
A heavy silence fell across both ships.
Everyone held their breath.
Then—
"GURARARARARA—"
"WAHAHAHAHAHA—"
The two monsters erupted in laughter and drew their Haki back, the atmosphere suddenly lightening—yet still crackling with lingering tension.
Whitebeard looked at Roger, eyes gleaming.
"Looks like you've gotten stronger, huh, Roger?"
Roger smirked. "What can I say… I've had the perfect training partner."
He gestured toward Robert, who stood beside Rayleigh and Gaban with his arms crossed.
Whitebeard's gaze turned toward the mysterious young man.
"The new guy, huh?" His brow furrowed. He reached out with his Haki—
—only to sense nothing.
It was as if Robert wasn't even there.
"Interesting... If I weren't looking right at you, I'd swear you didn't even exist."
"Wahahahaha! That's just the tip of the iceberg, Newgate," Roger laughed, throwing an arm around Robert's shoulder. "My boy here's stronger than me, Rayleigh, and Gaban put together. Hell, I don't think even all of us—including you—could put a scratch on him."
The Whitebeard Pirates collectively froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
Whitebeard frowned. "You've lost it, Roger. Don't mock our strength with this crap. That kid's not that strong."
But Roger just smiled wider.
"Well, why don't you see for yourself?"
He turned to Robert, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Bobby, show Newgate what you're made of."
Whitebeard tightened his grip on his naginata. Robert sighed, resigned.
"Aw shit… here we go again."
The next moment, both Robert and Whitebeard vanished.
Gone—without a trace.
Gasps echoed across the deck as Whitebeard's crew panicked, searching wildly for their captain. Then, a whistle from Rayleigh drew their attention upward. A colossal projection appeared in the sky above them—a screen showing two figures standing on a distant island: Whitebeard and Robert.
—
On the Island
Whitebeard blinked in confusion. A moment ago, he'd been aboard the Moby Dick. Now, he stood in the middle of a lush green field.
He immediately spread his Advanced Observation Haki across the entire island.
"It's no use," said a voice behind him.
Robert emerged into the clearing, his expression unreadable.
"There's only you and me here."
Whitebeard's sharp gaze fixed on him.
"Where is this place?"
Robert scratched the back of his neck lazily.
"Sorry for the sudden change of scenery. No need to be so tense." He waved a hand around them.
"This island's our personal training ground."
"Our?" Whitebeard echoed, skeptical.
"Mine and the Roger Pirates'."
Whitebeard stared into Robert's eyes, searching for any trace of deceit—and found none. Those black eyes were blank. Bored.
"This some kind of Devil Fruit power? Teleporting us here?" Whitebeard asked.
Robert shook his head. "Nope. No Devil Fruits involved. I'll explain everything after our duel. Besides…" he pointed upward, "…everyone's watching. Your crew, my crew."
Whitebeard blinked, scanning for any sign of surveillance.
Nothing.
"Fascinating…" he muttered. Then his eyes sharpened.
"Roger and the others seem to trust you—"
He readied his naginata.
"—let's see if there's any truth to that idiot's words."
With a thunderous step, he charged. His naginata raised high, he brought it down with the might of a god.
And Robert?
He simply raised one hand—and stopped the attack with his index finger.
No shockwave. No sound. No air distortion.
Whitebeard's strike had been completely nullified.
Frozen in place, Whitebeard stared at the impossible sight. His weapon pressed against one slender finger, unmoving. Then he looked up—and saw nothing in Robert's expression.
No smugness. No challenge.
Just pure, unfiltered boredom.
Then—
Flick.
With a single flick of his finger, Robert sent Whitebeard flying.
He crashed into a distant mountain with devastating force.
—
Back with the spectators
The Whitebeard Pirates collectively gawked, jaws unhinged, eyes bulging out like cartoon characters. Their captain had been swatted away like a fly.
On the island, Whitebeard lay in a massive crater, blinking owlishly. His body throbbed in pain, his crash site a trench carved deep into the earth. He winced, but slowly rose to his feet, staring at the line his body had carved through the terrain.
He looked across the field at the distant figure of Robert.
"What the hell is that guy…?" he muttered under his breath.
He recalled Roger's confident boasts—and, for the first time, believed them.
A wide grin crept across his face.
"Gurarararara… doesn't matter. Even if you're stronger than all of us combined, I'm still not backing down from a fight!"
Robert, standing several kilometres away, could only sigh again.
"Man… why am I surrounded by so many crazy-ass people?"
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PapaSukuna: How do like the chapter. If you like it then give me your powerstones.