The lively atmosphere, once filled with laughter and shouting, gradually grew quiet as everyone watched Whitebeard slowly approach. Aside from Marco, everyone—including the Division Commanders—looked at the giant man with curiosity. They didn't know what the old man was planning.
Drake and the others looked up. Whitebeard had come directly to their side, clearly seeking them out.
"Mm?" Luffy's mouth was still stuffed full—or rather, stretched to its limit.
"Old man..." It took a great effort for Luffy to swallow the meat in his mouth.
"Gurararara... rescuing Ace was a team effort, and since you're brothers, I won't waste breath on a 'thank you' for that." Suddenly, Whitebeard's tone shifted. "However, there is another matter for which I must express my gratitude."
"Eh?" Luffy and the others looked puzzled.
"Pops..." Ace started to speak, but Whitebeard cut him off with a look.
Whitebeard's gaze landed squarely on Drake. Drake, patting his stomach with a satisfied expression, was completely caught off guard. He hadn't expected Whitebeard to be addressing him.
"Your name is Dragon Soul, right? Our safe retreat from Marineford was largely due to that divine medicine you gave me."
Whitebeard paused, then clenched his fist. The explosive power in his muscles was palpable. There wasn't a trace of the sickness or frailty that had plagued him for years; he looked like a prehistoric beast ready to burst from its shackles.
"This... Pops feels different than before..."
"He really does. But what exactly changed...?"
The crew members were unsure, and even the Commanders furrowed their brows, lost in thought.
"It's his movement!" Marco said, stepping out from behind Whitebeard. "Pops' movements are entirely different now. Not only has his strength increased significantly, but more importantly... his body."
"His body? What happened to Pops' body?" Vista asked, confused.
"Haven't you noticed? Since his wounds healed, his power has become even more terrifying than before his prime."
"Now that you mention it, that seems right." The crew remembered how, at the final moment, Whitebeard's wounds had vanished and he had taken on the Navy's top brass one after another. Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Admirals Kizaru and Akainu, even Hero Garp—Whitebeard had fought them all simultaneously without losing an inch of ground.
It was that heroic, invincible presence that had galvanized the crew's belief in victory. Thinking back, it was indeed supernatural. Even if his battle wounds healed, he shouldn't have been that fierce. If that medicine didn't just heal his injuries but also had other miraculous effects...
Hiss... Realizing this, the Whitebeard Pirates collectively sucked in a breath of cold air. What kind of ability was that? How terrifying!
"That medicine didn't just heal my wounds on the spot," Whitebeard said seriously, looking at Drake. "It cured every hidden injury and chronic illness I've accumulated over the decades. I haven't felt this kind of raw power flowing through me in years."
Whitebeard's expression grew solemn. "I cannot treat this as if it never happened. I must express my thanks properly."
"Marco."
"Right here." Marco produced a large bottle of sake and handed it to Whitebeard.
Whitebeard popped the cap, filled a cup, and handed it to Drake. Then, he raised a bottle for himself—one that was thicker than an average person's waist. He was clearly planning to drink straight from the source.
Drake's mouth twitched. To be honest, he wasn't much of a drinker. This sake looked like the strongest of spirits—the kind people call "the good stuff." The cup handed to him was the size of a human face. If he drained this, would he survive?
As Drake hesitated, Ace stood up abruptly. "Pops, Dragon Soul is my brother. This matter..."
But before Ace could finish, Whitebeard cut him off. "Ace... you know that in the world of pirates, there aren't so many rules. Dragon Soul is my lifesaver, and a benefactor to the entire Whitebeard crew. This drink must be shared."
Whitebeard looked deeply at Ace. After a moment of silence, Ace nodded. "I understand."
He sat back down and looked at Drake. "Dragon Soul, drink up."
Wait, what? What did you understand? Drake thought, his heart crying out in protest. But with the eyes of the strongest man in the world on him, there was no turning back. He took the cup with both hands.
"Dragon Soul, you just reached adulthood this year, didn't you? This is the perfect time for your first real drink," Sabo said with a mischievous grin.
Drake: "..."
Gritting his teeth, Drake raised the cup and gulped it down. He expected a burning, harsh sting, but instead, a strange wave of warmth flowed from his throat into his stomach.
"This..." Drake felt an indescribable sensation. The taste wasn't exactly pleasant, but there was an addictive, revitalizing quality to it.
"Gurararara!" Whitebeard's lips curled into an upward arc that mirrored his famous mustache. He raised his bottle and began to chug.
In the past, Marco would have stopped such reckless drinking, but today was different. He had just given Whitebeard a thorough check-up and found the old man's health to be better than perfect. A little sake was harmless now.
Normally, Whitebeard would be hooked up to IV drips and receiving emergency treatments. Now, none of that was necessary. Had this war actually cured the old man's lifelong ailments?
Gulp, gulp, gulp...
Watching Whitebeard drink so fiercely, many were still worried, but Marco waved them off. "Pops' body is fine now. He doesn't need the IVs to maintain his condition anymore. In fact, there probably aren't many people on this ship healthier than he is right now."
"What!" The crew's eyes nearly popped out of their heads. "Marco, is that true?" the Commanders asked in unison.
"Of course! I've checked him myself."
Hearing Marco's confident tone, everyone finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Uncle Whitebeard... well, since you're Ace's Pops, I'll call you that," Drake said, putting down his empty cup. "About the medicine—I didn't actually know it would have such a massive effect. I only knew it could heal wounds instantly. But even if I had known, I still would have given it to you. While it was my only one, you were the only person who could turn the tide of that war."
Drake smiled genuinely. "The results proved my decision was right. So, please, don't worry about it."
Hearing Drake's words, the Whitebeard Pirates all broke into wide, appreciative smiles.
How does the story continue after this banquet of victory and brotherhood?
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