Out at sea, a colossal three-masted warship gently rocked with the ocean waves.
From a distance, the ship's paint and build made it resemble a giant white whale. Majestic and awe-inspiring, it sat atop the sea like a god of the ocean.
Massive. Powerful. Unshakable.
Its sheer presence seed to suppress the ocean itself — as if the waves dared not act up in its shadow.
Flanking it were four slightly smaller but equally formidable ships of similar design. Together, the five vessels ford a fleet whose aura alone could shake the world.
This was none other than the main fleet of the Whitebeard Pirates, known across all four seas.
And at the heart of this fleet — the massive whale-like ship — was Whitebeard's flagship: the Moby Dick.
---
On the Moby Dick's main deck, Whitebeard sat proudly in his signature seat, draped in his iconic white cape with red lining.
A few curvaceous nurses in pink dresses busily tended to him, swapping out IV bags without missing a beat.
Though his health had clearly declined, his eyes remained sharp, commanding respect. He swept his gaze across the deck — where fifteen Division Commanders stood, stunned into silence.
Then, in a deep, booming voice, he said:
"You heard right. As of now, I'm promoting Roya to be my Vice-Captain!"
---
The silence shattered.
The fifteen commanders managed to hold their composure, quickly exchanging confused glances. But the other crew mbers around them weren't so composed.
One of them leaned toward a comrade and whispered, "Hey, you ever heard of this guy Roya?"
The question was t with a blank shake of the head. No clue.
But among the large crowd, soone eventually spoke up. And bit by bit, a discussion broke out.
"I think he's a lookout on this ship?"
"Nah, more like a trainee lookout. We played cards last night — pretty sure that's what he said."
"Yeah, and if I'm not mistaken, he only joined last month when we stopped for water at so no-na island."
"So he's a rookie of rookies! Less than a month on board, and he's Vice-Captain now? Who is this guy?!"
Piece by piece, they pieced together Roya's backstory. Their disbelief grew, and soon the murmurs reached the ears of the Division Commanders.
---
Marco the Phoenix, though never officially declared Vice-Captain, had always been recognized by the crew as Whitebeard's number two.
And now, Whitebeard had summoned everyone — captains, core mbers, everyone — just to na a nobody as his right hand?
Even calm, stoic Marco couldn't stop the spark of discontent flaring up inside him.
By power? Marco was the wielder of a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, with god-tier regeneration, and mastery over both Armant and Observation Haki. No one in the crew could match him except Whitebeard.
By seniority? Marco had been with Whitebeard for over thirty years — one of the ship's oldest mbers.
By rit? Every major battle and victory under the Whitebeard flag had his na written on it.
And now, so rookie — a literal intern — gets promoted to Vice-Captain?
Still, out of respect for Pops, Marco swallowed his outrage and held his tongue.
---
But "Flower Sword" Vista, a long-ti friend of Marco's and commander of the Fifth Division, wasn't as restrained.
With a sharp shing, he drew his two long swords and slashed them in an X in front of him, the blades cutting the very air. The cross-shaped tear lingered — that's how much anger he poured into the strike.
He roared:
"Where is this Roya?! Co out! Let see for myself what makes you fit to be Vice-Captain!"
Whitebeard, as usual, treated his crew like his own sons. Even at such an open challenge, he simply chuckled and looked skyward.
Marco noticed it instantly. Whitebeard never wasted energy now — if he looked sowhere, it ant sothing.
Marco followed his line of sight — and there, lying across the horizontal beam of the main mast, was a lone figure.
He lay with his hands folded behind his head, one leg crossed over the other, gently swaying with the ship.
"That's him? That's… Roya?!"
"Is he—sleeping? He's actually sleeping?!"
Marco activated his Observation Haki. No mistake — that was the guy. Sleeping soundly.
Rage surged in Marco like a phoenix's fla.
"The mont Pops announces his new Vice-Captain, this guy's asleep? No respect at all!"
And not only that — wasn't he supposed to be on lookout duty?
"He's slacking during his shift too?! Unbelievable!"
Marco clenched his fists.
"No way I'm letting Pops go through with this. I'm stopping this madness right now!"
---
But before Marco could speak, Vista was already in the air — leaping toward the mast.
As one of Whitebeard's most trusted veterans, with thirty years of battle experience, Vista's power was nothing to underestimate.
He too had spotted the sleeping figure.
"I, Vista — Commander of the Fifth Division — challenge Vice-Captain Roya!!"
His voice bood across the deck. He didn't wait for a response.
Instead, he unleashed one of his most beautiful and famous sword techniques:
"Rose Waltz!"
His twin swords danced, painting the air with brilliant crimson petals.
These rose-like sword slashes floated gently toward Roya… but their grace was deceptive. They were fast — deadly fast.
In the blink of an eye, they were already upon him.
Vista smirked.
He didn't want to kill the rookie — that would break Whitebeard's rules. But he'd show him his place.
His timing? Flawless.
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