The rift in the sky left by the Conqueror's Haki clash hadn't fully healed, but the decks of both legendary pirate ships had lost all trace of tension.
Planks were laid between the ships as crew members shuttled back and forth like neighbors visiting.
Bonfires blazed bright, massive Sea King barbecue sizzled over the flames, fat dripping as the aroma mixed with alcohol fumes drifted across the entire sea.
"Hey! Red nose! That's my drumstick!"
"Idiot Shanks! Finders keepers!"
In a corner of the deck, Shanks and Buggy were fighting tooth and nail over a drumstick, while pineapple-headed Marco nearby propped his chin on one hand, watching their antics as if he found these two clowns more entertaining than the earlier battle.
Not far away, Jozu was arm wrestling with a burly Roger Pirates crew member, his diamond-hardened arm gleaming in the firelight, making Buggy glance over repeatedly with drool practically flowing.
Kyle lounged casually against the mast with a fresh cup of orange juice in hand.
He watched Vista in the distance, surrounded by several Whitebeard Pirates crew members, face flushed red and looking completely flustered, then kindly raised his cup in acknowledgment.
Seeing him made Vista even more embarrassed—he quickly turned away, pretending to admire the scenery.
This sea sure is... sea-like!
At the center of the party, two monster-like men sat cross-legged facing each other, massive bowls bigger than barrels in front of them.
"Gu ha ha ha! Newgate, your crew's got real spirit!" Roger lifted his bowl and chugged it like water.
"Gurararara... your ship's full of interesting brats too!" Whitebeard also took a hearty drink, his gaze sweeping over his "sons," the stern lines of his face softening somewhat.
After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere was in full swing.
Roger suddenly elbowed Whitebeard's arm and asked without hesitation: "Speaking of which, Newgate, I've always wondered—a man like you, why did you ever serve on that bastard Rocks' ship?"
The lively party seemed to hit a mute button in that instant.
Though most crew members kept carousing, those nearby—Rayleigh, Scopper Gaban, and several older captains near Whitebeard—instinctively stopped what they were doing and looked over.
Whitebeard's drinking motion paused slightly, a flash of complex, indecipherable emotion in his eyes.
He didn't answer immediately, instead draining the remaining liquor in his bowl and letting out a satisfied sigh.
"Gurararara..." He set down his bowl, his rumbling laugh sounding less bold than usual, tinged with self-mockery. "Because he beat me."
This answer caught even Roger off guard.
"Back then, I was still wandering the seas," Whitebeard began his tale. "Rocks found me and attacked without a word. I lost fair and square. Then he invited me aboard his ship."
Whitebeard paused, his gaze growing distant.
"I told him I was searching for the meaning of going to sea. He burst out laughing after hearing that—doubled over laughing—said that kind of thing was the most boring, fragile nonsense in the world. But then he said he could help me find something more valuable."
Kyle quietly sipped his orange juice while his ears perked up.
So that's how it was—using the vague concept of "meaning" as bait to paint a grand picture.
MLM leader Rocks, not bad!
"Rocks' ship gathered the most unruly monsters from around the world." Whitebeard's tone held no trace of nostalgia, only the detachment of someone who'd lived through it.
"Everyone had their own ambitions, each one eager to climb over the rest. So-called comrades were nothing more than tools to be used and discarded. At any moment, the man drinking behind you might plunge a knife into your heart."
His description made the surrounding young people shudder.
"The longer I stayed there, the more I realized that the 'meaning' Rocks spoke of was just fodder for his own ambitions. What I wanted never changed from the beginning."
Here, Whitebeard's words stopped.
He no longer looked at Roger but turned toward the distance.
Marco was being dragged by a Roger Pirates crew member into a contest of who could chug a barrel faster; Jozu had lost an arm wrestling match to Scopper Gaban and was demanding a rematch; Vista had finally worked up the courage to seriously discuss swordsmanship with Spencer...
They were noisy, honest, proud—each one so vivid, so real.
Whitebeard's expression in that moment was impossibly gentle—not the gaze of a strong man looking down on all beings, but a father watching his most precious treasures.
"Gurararara..." He laughed again, this time his laughter filled with heartfelt satisfaction and pride. "But now, I've already found it."
He raised his bowl in a distant toast to his sons.
Roger watched him and also broke into his signature grin.
He didn't spout any grand philosophy, just raised his own bowl to clink heavily against Whitebeard's.
"Gu ha ha ha! Good that you found it! That's more precious than any treasure!" Roger laughed as he drained his drink. "As for me, Newgate, my reason for going to sea is simple too!"
He stood up, facing the sea breeze with arms spread wide as if to embrace the entire world.
"I want to see what's at the very end of this ocean! That hidden history, the truth of the world—I want to witness it all with my own eyes! So we're planning to traverse the Grand Line again, to reach that final island no one's ever been to!"
His voice carried incomparable infectious power, as if he weren't declaring an impossible dream but stating a fact about to unfold.
The crew of the Oro Jackson, young and old alike, all showed the same craving and excitement for adventure as their captain.
Whitebeard listened quietly to Roger's bold proclamation, his face showing an approving smile: "Gurararara... that's just like you, Roger. Though where we're headed next might be the complete opposite."
"Oh?" Roger turned back curiously.
"We're going to a closed-off country called 'Wano.'" Whitebeard said. "I hear they have good sake and some interesting folks."
Wano...
Kyle's eyelid twitched. Could it be? Kozuki Oden!
No matter how you put it, Momonosuke must die!
The party lasted until deep into the night. When the eastern sky showed the pale belly of dawn, this grand celebration finally neared its end.
"Hey! Roger! Next time we meet, I won't lose again!" Whitebeard stood at the bow of the Moby Dick, his voice booming.
"Gu ha ha ha! Bring it on anytime! But next time, remember to bring some of that good Wano sake!" Roger stood with his hands on his hips, shouting back.
The two massive ships slowly parted as crew members waved goodbye, curses and blessings mingling together.
"Red nose! Next time you steal my meat, I definitely won't let you off!"
"Just you wait, pineapple head! Next time we meet, I'm definitely prying off a piece of Jozu's diamond!"
"Flower Sword kid! Next time we spar, I won't hold back!"
"'Flower Sword'? Good nickname... wait, that's not right! I'll be ready anytime, orange juice bastard!"
Kyle smiled and waved his empty cup at the unwilling Vista in the distance, then watched the Moby Dick's massive whale figurehead gradually disappear into the morning light on the horizon.
He turned around to see Roger leaning against the ship's rail, gazing in the direction Whitebeard had departed, his smile lingering long after.