Beep, beep, beep...
Drake suddenly noticed a frantic chirping sound coming from his person. After a quick scan, he realized it was his Power Level Indicator.
"So it's you, little guy," Drake murmured, slowly unclipping the device.
Since completing his two years of intense training, he had practically forgotten this gadget even existed. He had long since unraveled its technical limitations: it only measured baseline, dormant combat data. The moment someone initiated an attack, the readings would fluctuate violently.
It functioned remarkably similarly to the scouters in the Dragon Ball universe, failing to reflect the total combat reality and occasionally skewing tactical judgment mid-battle.
Furthermore, the indicator had remained completely dead and silent for an extended period. Why had it suddenly started shrieking today?
The exact microsecond he strapped the lens over his eye, a massive silhouette materialized directly before his face—unshaven, weathered, and dripping with pure fury.
"You little rascal, why have you ceased your running?" Daolang panted heavily.
"Whoa!" Before Drake could articulate a response, a chaotic stream of data began flashing wildly across the glass of the indicator.
Top-Tier Conqueror's Haki detected. Combat metrics experiencing exponential, erratic spikes. Warning lights flashing red. Reading dipping below 9,000, resetting, then overloading.
This was an unprecedented technical anomaly for the device. He had zero data on what the flashing red warnings signified mechanically, but it required zero genius to formulate a baseline deduction.
The energy output had likely broken past the absolute sensory ceiling of the indicator!
During its previous deployment, the device had successfully charted the combat profiles of Whitebeard and Garp, both of whom comfortably hovered around a staggering 9,800 metric. Yet even then, the hardware hadn't suffered an operational failure like this. No wonder the indicator had bypassed its standard protocols to shriek on its own.
Could it be...
The combat mass currently materializing across the cove had broken past the absolute threshold of 10,000?...
The mere thought sent a primal jolt of alarm through Drake's mind.
From the very inception of his journey, the system had explicitly asserted that a combat metric of 10,000 represented the absolute apex of the One Piece world—a conceptual, untouchable ceiling.
Was the data now verifying that someone had shattered that global threshold?
High above, a violent gale screamed across the atmosphere as thick vortexes of thunderclouds rapidly condensed. Staring up at the reality-bending weather patterns, Drake's expression grew immensely solemn.
"Hmph... you possess an exceptional eye, kid. This is the absolute peak of power across this ocean—the true reality of Conqueror's Haki!" Daolang noted, a flash of proud satisfaction softening his stern face.
For his son to command this level of battlefield perception and diagnostic judgment proved his caliber was peerless on a global scale. Though he had pushed his physical vessel to the absolute limit and still failed to run down Drake earlier, his heart overflowed with pure appreciation.
Throughout Drake's childhood, he hadn't fulfilled a single fraction of his institutional duties as a father. Now, watching the fledgling hawk transform into a sovereign eagle left him with nothing but a bittersweet, profound pride.
Indeed, Ben Daolang was Drake's true, biological father in this world. Due to a complex web of past conflicts, Drake had been separated from his lineage as an infant, eventually crossing paths with Ace and the others to forge an unbreakable, lifelong covenant.
However, Drake's cognitive focus wasn't anchored on family dynamics right now; his mind was entirely occupied with diagnosing exactly whose vessel was yielding this caliber of force...
In the next microsecond, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. The energy signature was radiating directly from the coordinate where Luffy and Red Hair were trading blows.
Evidently, these were the combat metrics of Red Hair Shanks.
Across the annals of global history, aside from Shanks, he had never unearthed a single record of anyone mastering Top-Tier Conqueror's Haki to this absolute depth. Within the fraternal framework of the Legendary Four Brothers, Ace possessed the most destructive Haki output, yet compared to the presence Red Hair was currently releasing, a distinct disparity remained.
As for the exact nature of that technical disparity, Drake could not formulate a precise definition. Red Hair's Haki felt as though it was interwoven with his very biological fabric; every casual breath or minimal gesture released an aura that commanded the absolute submission of the landscape. It was a presence integrated into his absolute existence.
It didn't feel like an external force he chose to channel; it felt like his intrinsic sovereign charm.
It was Red Hair Shanks himself!
"You're asserting... this is the definitive reality of Conqueror's Haki?" Drake murmured, slowly raising his eyes to lock onto Daolang.
"Precisely!" Daolang crossed his massive arms over his chest, nodding firmly. "The common collective operates under the assumption that possessing Conqueror's Haki is merely the baseline emblem of a chosen ruler."
"It is a factor, yes, but it isn't the entire truth."
"An elite powerhouse doesn't mathematically require Conqueror's Haki to conquer the sea, but the absolute strongest voyager will invariably be an individual who commands it!"
"Because that tier of force can never be harvested through conventional training or standard physical refinement. Lineage potential, supreme comprehension, and an unbreakable will—all three parameters must align perfectly."
"Our Captain designates that absolute mastery as Top-Tier Conqueror's Haki!"
Hearing the explanation, Drake's frame executed a violent tremor.
Top-Tier Conqueror's Haki!
This wasn't a standard martial tier or a simple haki sub-type. It was the ultimate, unsealed baseline of Conqueror's Haki—a conceptual force capable of completely sundering the absolute constraints of this world...
"Indeed. It appears the Boss has genuinely unleashed his full operational capacity today. Otherwise, he would never casually expose this methodology. The Straw Hat kid is stepping into a very lethal parameter now," Daolang shook his head softly. Through his preceding clash against Luffy, he had secured a solid grasp of the young captain's metrics.
He was formidable, yes. But he remained light-years away from realistically conquering Red Hair.
The global press frequently designated the fallen Emperor, Kaido of the Beasts, as the world's strongest creature in a one-on-one conflict. But Daolang had always dismissed the media's metrics, primarily because he had never witnessed his own Captain unleash the absolute ceiling of his power. Nor had he ever seen Shanks sustain a catastrophic, life-threatening injury. The only two prominent scars marking the Emperor's vessel were historical traumas incurred long before Daolang had even enlisted with the Red Hair Pirates.
The first was the trio of lacerations mapping his left eye. The second was the absolute sacrifice of his arm in the East Blue to preserve Luffy's life.
Regarding that second incident, Daolang had always harbored intense skepticism. Back then, Shanks's combat metrics had already stabilized at the absolute zenith of the global hierarchy. The number of entities capable of marking his flesh could be counted on one hand, yet he had somehow shed a limb in the East Blue—a sea completely saturated with low-level weaklings. Who could process that data without experiencing total bewilderment?
"I see..." Drake nodded slowly, sinking deep into strategic reflection.
In the next fraction of a second, he caught a sudden slip in his own operational parameters, a layer of cold sweat breaking across his forehead. He had been completely distracted by the data, completely forgetting himself and engaging in an extended, fluid conversation with the man.
Concurrently, Daolang's expression turned remarkably strained. The massive kitchen cleaver clutched in his hand looked highly awkward; he couldn't choose whether to initiate a strike or cleanly sheath the steel.
"So..." Ultimately, Drake smooth-talked his way through the tension, breaking the silence first. Given Daolang's intense, prideful embarrassment—waiting for the old man to initiate an apology would require waiting until the next reincarnation. "Are you genuinely my..."
Just as Drake gathered his resolve to voice the fundamental question fracturing his mind, the sky and earth executed a catastrophic, deafening tremor.
The surrounding space collapsed layer by layer, and a colossal shockwave of compressed atmospheric pressure ripped across the terrain, hurtling straight toward their coordinate.
Drake: "!!!"
Before his nervous system could even translate a motor command to initiate a spatial shift, a towering figure abruptly stepped into the line of fire, anchoring himself firmly before his frame.
The forty-meter great cleaver cleared the air, locked in a rigid, absolute guard before their position.
CRASH! KABOOM!
The apocalyptic tempest tore past Drake's flanks with a deafening shriek, yet the destructive pressure failed to graze a single hair on his body.
At this precise juncture, the coldness in Drake's gaze completely dissolved, a quiet warmth softening his face. Though their preceding interaction had been a chaotic mess of volatile tempers, this single action delivered an absolute answer.
Daolang's movement had been a product of pure, unadulterated subconscious reflex—he hadn't spent a single microsecond calculating the personal safety of his own vessel. He had drawn his weapon with frantic, desperate haste to shield him...
The skin between the old man's thumb and index finger split slightly from the sheer kinetic feedback.
A mere residual ripple of distorted space traveling from a distant coordinate possessed sufficient power to inflict trauma on a powerhouse of Daolang's tier.
Red Hair Shanks! What manner of absolute godhood does your vessel contain?!
Beep...
Right then, the rapid chirping of the Power Level Indicator ceased entirely. The jumping data points vanished, replaced by a singular, massive, flashing red icon:
[OVERLOAD ERROR: OUT OF BOUNDS]
"What the hell is this?! Holy st..." Drake spat out an uncharacteristic curse. Was this some kind of sick joke? How could any biological entity be this terrifying?
His metrics had completely stabilized past the mathematical limits of this world?
Luffy!!
Drake could no longer sustain his detached posture. Initiating consecutive spatial shifts, he transformed into a blur of instantaneous teleports, rocketing frantically toward Luffy's coordinate.
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