One Piece: Dungeon Shop. Scamming Garp, Reward: Eight-Tails Jinchuriki Chapter 343:  - 343: The Man Who Discards Godhood Like Tras

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Chapter 343: The Man Who Discards Godhood Like Trash

Foosha Village, Makino’s Tavern.

A silence so profound it felt heavy, like physical pressure, descended upon the room. It wasn’t rely quiet; the air itself seed to have frozen, trapping everyone in amber.

Doflamingo, who usually lounged with his legs kicked up on the table in arrogant boredom, had frozen mid-motion. Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood with his arms crossed, his face darkening like a thunderhead. Even Garp, fresh from his rampage in the "Ninja World Dungeon" and casually digging for gold in his nose, stopped.

At this mont, every pair of eyes—Marine, Pirate, and Civilian alike—was locked onto the center of the tavern.

There, a blindingly brilliant white light was slowly fading, retracting like a dying star. As the luminosity dimd, a pungent scent washed over the room. It was the sll of ozone, scorched earth, and the tallic tang of dried blood—the unmistakable, grim perfu of the "Black Bullet" universe.

Thud!

A heavy, dull sound vibrated through the floorboards, striking everyone’s hearts like a war hamr.

Edward Newgate stood revealed.

He towered over six ters tall, a fortress of muscle and bone. The dical IV drips and oxygen tubes that had been his constant companions for years were gone, ripped away before he had even entered the dungeon. His broad chest still bore the jagged scars of a lifeti of war, but the aura radiating from him had changed. The air of sickness was gone. In its place was a terrifying, vibrant pressure that threatened to crack the ceiling—a vitality more blazing than the sun.

Behind him, the three Division Commanders—Marco, Jozu, and Vista—materialized from the fading light.

They had only been gone for a few hours in real-ti, but their eyes told a different story. The glint of playfulness was gone, replaced by a profound depth—a mixture of sorrow, gentleness, and a steely resolve that looked as if it had been forged in the fires of hell and quenched in tears.

"Gurararara..."

Whitebeard threw his head back and laughed. The sound was rich and thunderous, rattling the glasses on the shelves. He slamd the butt of Murakumogiri onto the floor, the shockwave announcing the return of the King to his throne.

Just then, the cold, synthetic voice of the System cut through the atmosphere, echoing in the minds of everyone present.

[Congratulations Player: Edward Newgate (Whitebeard Pirates)]

[Dungeon Cleared: Black Bullet]

[Evaluation: SSS-Class (Perfect Clear, Redeer)]

[Calculating Rewards...]

The words "SSS-Class" hung in the air. The pupils of the strong individuals present constricted sharply.

Even Garp, the Hero of the Marines, had only managed an S rating after turning the Ninja World upside down. SSS-Class was a myth. It was perfection.

What kind of heaven-defying reward did a world on the brink of apocalypse offer to a monster like Whitebeard?

Breathing in the room grew ragged. Even Blake, usually the picture of indifference behind the counter, paused his cleaning. He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued, and looked at the holographic screen floating in mid-air.

[Reward 1: Varanium Body (S-Class)]

[Description: Body skin hardness will rival "Varanium" tal. Possesses the effect of inhibiting all regeneration abilities in enemies and grants extre resistance to negative status effects.]

[Reward 2: Gastrea Virus: Perfect Control (S-Class)]

[Description: Gain the terrifying vitality and regenerative power of a Stage V Gastrea. Severed limbs regenerate in an instant. The user will not lose their sanity and is immune to all viral erosion.]

[Reward 3: Stairway to Heaven (Special · Concept-Grade Weapon)]

[Description: Can summon the super-electromagnetic railgun "Stairway to Heaven" in the real world, capable of shattering continental shelves. Charge ti: 3 hours. One shot can destroy a nation.]

As the three rewards rotated on the screen, shimring with golden promise, the tavern erupted.

Hiss—!!!

The collective intake of breath sucked the oxygen out of the room.

Doflamingo’s jaw went slack. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes widened into saucers. The grin fell from his face, replaced by pure, unadulterated shock.

"Fuffuffuffu... Are you kidding ?!" his voice cracked. "These rewards... this is practically cheating! This breaks the balance of the world!"

Any single one of these rewards would drive the strongest n on the seas into a frenzy.

A body made of Varanium? That would make him harder than diamond, tougher than Kaido’s mythical scales.

Perfect regeneration? That ant immortality. It ant Whitebeard could return to his pri, unkillable and unending.

And the third... the "Stairway to Heaven." A railgun capable of destroying a nation in a single shot? That wasn’t a weapon; that was an Ancient Weapon. That was Pluton in the hands of a pirate.

Sengoku’s face drained of all color, turning as white as his uniform. Cold sweat stread down his temples, soaking his collar.

It’s over.

The thought hamred in his brain. It’s completely over.

Whitebeard was already the "World’s Strongest Man," possessing the Gura Gura no Mi, capable of tilting the seas. If he added invulnerability, immortality, and a nation-destroying cannon to his arsenal...

The Marines were finished. The World Governnt would crumble. Who could stop a God?

"Damn it! How can this kind of power fall into the hands of a pirate?!" Sengoku gritted his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging with suppressed terror.

Beside him, Akainu’s hands turned to magma, molten rock dripping onto the floorboards, hissing as it burned through the wood. He was shaking with rage. Kizaru, usually masking his thoughts behind a facade of laziness, let his expression drop. He looked grave, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the impossible odds.

Only Garp remained sowhat composed. He dug a finger into his nose, flicked sothing away, and looked at his old rival. But deep in his eyes, a complex light flickered—a mixture of wariness and strange anticipation.

"Now, Newgate... you might really beco a god today."

However.

Just as the world held its breath, expecting Whitebeard to claim his ascension...

Just when everyone thought the era of the "Pirate King" was being skipped for the era of the "Pirate God"...

Whitebeard did the unthinkable.

He glanced at the floating screen. He didn’t look hungry. He didn’t look excited.

He looked... disgusted.

His upper lip curled in a sneer, as if the glowing text offering him ultimate power was a pile of rotting fish.

"Gurararara..."

A scoff of pure disdain. Whitebeard waved his massive hand through the hologram, scattering the light like smoke.

"Boring."

Then, ignoring the paralyzed room, the mountain of a man turned. The floorboards groaned under his weight as he strode toward the counter.

He stopped in front of Blake.

The two stared at each other. One was a giant who could shake the world; the other was a mysterious shopkeeper who sold worlds.

"Boss Blake."

Whitebeard’s voice was low, gravelly, and serious.

"I don’t want a single one of these ssy rewards."

The silence in the tavern shattered. Jaws dropped. Eyes popped.

Sengoku choked, nearly coughing up blood.

He doesn’t want them?!

Is his brain filled with seawater?!

"Newgate!" Sengoku wanted to scream. "That is power! That is immortality! That is the crown of the world!"

But Whitebeard didn’t spare a glance for the ants panicking behind him. He stared intently at Blake, his golden eyes losing their hardness, replaced by a rare, desperate pleading.

"Can you discuss it with that system of yours..."

"Take these rewards back. Change them for !"

Blake paused, his coffee cup hovering halfway to his lips. He set it down with a soft clink. A playful, knowing glint danced in his eyes.

"Oh?" Blake leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "What could possibly be worth more than this? You’re rejecting the power of a god, Newgate. Are you sure?"

Whitebeard grinned. It was a savage, proud grin—the smile of a man who knew exactly who he was.

"The power of a god?"

He snorted.

"Gurararara... I am Whitebeard!"

"In this life, even dragging this broken, dying body, who has ever dared to take the title of ’Strongest’ from my hands?!"

He straightened up, his coat billowing as his Haki flared—not to intimidate, but to assert his existence.

Then, his voice softened. The monster receded, and the father erged.

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