After letting Marco fully experience his newly acquired power—
Lucian Thorn brought him back to the Moby Dick.
The moment the two reappeared, the once rowdy deck fell completely silent.
Every single gaze locked tightly onto Marco.
He was still the same pineapple head.
Still the same lazy posture.
But everyone could feel it…
Something was different.
Drastically different.
He stood there casually, yet the space around him exuded a terrifying pressure—one that carried an air of judgment and authority.
Several weaker newcomers didn't even dare to meet his eyes.
"Jozu... look..."
Flower Sword Vista's hand on his sword trembled. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper.
Diamond Jozu's rugged face was stiff as stone.
His diamond body was… trembling.
Was this really Marco?!
Just standing there—his aura alone made it feel like the sky was about to collapse.
That kind of pressure… they had only ever felt when Pops was angry.
"His power now... it's already far beyond ours!"
Jozu's voice cracked.
"He's... on a whole different level!"
"Gurararara!!!"
As everyone stood frozen under the weight of Marco's terrifying presence, a booming laugh cut through the silence!
Whitebeard stood at the bow of the ship, his now fully healed body as solid and towering as a mountain.
He looked at the reborn Marco—not the slightest bit surprised.
His eyes burned with pride and joy.
"Good! Good!! My son!!!"
"Now that is worthy of being the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates!"
With his laughter, the suffocating pressure lifted from everyone's heads.
The crew finally let out the breaths they'd been holding. When they looked back at Marco, their gazes were no longer just respectful—
They were worshipful.
Marco scratched his pineapple head, a little uncomfortable in his new skin.
He turned to look at Lucian, his eyes full of indescribable gratitude.
Lucian gave him a smile—
As if what had just happened was no big deal.
After a night of celebration—
When the wild feast was over and night had fallen,
The captain's quarters aboard the Moby Dick still glowed with light.
The mood was relaxed, yet faintly tense.
Lucian, Whitebeard, and Marco—
The three who now truly made the decisions for the Whitebeard Pirates—sat down for a meeting.
"Pops, Marco—"
"While I'm gone for the next two years, your top priority is to lie low and fortify our territory."
"Pops, I know your injuries are healed, but it'll take time to fully get used to what your body can do now."
"Marco, you need to feel out your new power too. How far you grow… is up to you."
Whitebeard and Marco listened silently. They knew every word Lucian said carried weight.
Lucian's gaze swept over them again. His tone grew heavier.
He looked directly at Whitebeard.
"Pops, keep your eyes on the World Government."
"We humiliated them during the Marineford War—slammed their faces into the ground. The Five Elders won't just let that go."
"They might not have the guts for another all-out war, but behind-the-scenes attacks? Assassination, subversion, manipulation... they'll throw everything at us."
Lucian gave a cold, disdainful smirk.
"Let them try. We'll just protect our home and watch their little puppet show."
He then turned to Marco.
"The next two years will be chaotic."
"Kaido and Big Mom—yeah, I beat the hell out of them last time, but those two maniacs? They won't stay quiet."
"They'll fight among themselves. Hell, even their own crews will turn on each other. Stay far away. Let the dogs tear each other apart."
"Gurararara… got it."
Whitebeard and Marco nodded in unison.
"Don't worry, Lucian!"
Lucian turned, looking at both of them.
And then he said—
"The real counterattack against the World Government… begins after I return."
Those words made both Whitebeard and Marco freeze!
They could hear it in Lucian's voice—
A kind of overwhelming confidence, one that treated the so-called "great powers" like dust beneath his feet.
The entire world?
Just pieces on his board.
Lucian then held up two fingers.
"And one last thing—those Temporal Imprints I gave you earlier are still active. Just in case."
"With them, no matter what era I'm in—if the crew faces annihilation, I'll be pulled back instantly."
The final safeguard. The anchor that let both of them finally breathe easy.
Having finished all that, Lucian visibly relaxed.
The calm strategist's aura vanished—replaced by the familiar troublemaker's smirk.
He winked at Marco with a grin.
"Oh right. I'm counting on you guys to keep my disappearance under wraps for the next two years."
"Don't let the other commanders catch wind."
"How exactly are we supposed to do that?" Marco asked instinctively.
Lucian stroked his chin seriously and said something that nearly gave the two men heart attacks.
"Just say... I didn't think my pineapple hairstyle was as authentic as yours."
"So I went into seclusion to undertake a sacred, two-year pilgrimage across the universe... in search of the perfect pineapple cut."
Marco: "..."
Whitebeard: "..."
They both stared at Lucian's utterly sincere expression, mouths twitching.
If they actually told the crew that, the whole Whitebeard Pirates would probably think they'd gone insane.
"Don't worry," Lucian said, patting Marco on the shoulder like a mischievous child, "I'm sure you two can come up with a badass explanation everyone will believe."
"I have complete faith in your wisdom! Thanks again!"
Golden light began to radiate from his body. He was preparing to leave.
"Wait!"
Whitebeard suddenly spoke, his voice lower and heavier than ever before.
The light paused.
Lucian turned, puzzled.
He saw a rare look on Whitebeard's weathered face—
A mix of caution, memory... and dread.
"My son, about God Valley... I need to warn you one last time."
Lucian's expression turned serious.
He knew—this was the real reason for tonight's meeting.
Whitebeard spoke gravely:
"Back then, that place drew nearly every top-tier monster of the era. The Rocks Pirates, Roger's crew, the Navy... even the God's Knights, who were hiding in the shadows."
"Of course, with your current power, most of them probably aren't a threat to you."
But then—
His tone turned sharp. His gaze cut like a blade.
"But you need to be careful of the Five Elders."
"The Five Elders?" Lucian raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Whitebeard nodded grimly, as if reliving a nightmare that had haunted him for thirty-eight years. His breath grew heavy.
"During the final battle at God Valley, we had the upper hand. Rocks, Kaido, Golden Lion, and I—we were this close to tearing the World Government apart."
"And then... the Five Elders made their move."
"Each one individually wasn't all that strong."
"But one of them..."
Whitebeard's fists clenched involuntarily. Bones creaked under the pressure.
"During the fight, one of them... changed."
"He became... insanely strong. And dark. So dark."
His voice dropped to a near whisper, like uttering a forbidden nightmare.
"That power—it wasn't Haki. It wasn't a Devil Fruit either..."
"It was something older. More wicked. Demonic."
"To this day, I still don't know what it was."
"But I know this—it was pure malice. Pure control. It was… hell itself."
Whitebeard raised his head.
His restored, eagle-sharp eyes locked onto Lucian's.
And from a lifetime of battles and scars, he gave his heaviest warning yet:
"Lucian, my son—"
"You can disregard Roger. You can ignore Garp. You can even scoff at Rocks, the so-called tyrant of his era."
"But you must be careful of that one Elder—"
"The one who... changes."
"There's something very, very wrong with that guy."