A Familiar Feeling, a Call from the Future!

As the laughter faded, Elderly Whitebeard reined in the heroic spirit that could shake the seas.

His towering body turned, his deep gaze passing over Marco and Chen Ye toward the other end of the island.

From there came the faint clamor and cheers of a banquet.

His family was holding a grand banquet to see Oden off, one filled with both reluctance and blessings.

"Let's go take a look."

Whitebeard's deep voice rang out without the slightest hesitation.

"Don't let those brats spot us. It'll cause unnecessary commotion."

Marco nodded at once. He knew full well what kind of terrifying chaos would erupt if two "Whitebeards" appeared in the same era.

Chen Ye said nothing, merely following silently behind them.

Rather than heading toward the crowded harbor, the three circled along the island's edge, quietly making their way to the other side.

The farther they moved from the heart of the banquet, the quieter their surroundings became.

The sound of waves crashing against the reefs replaced the boisterous music and laughter.

The salty sea breeze scattered the heavy scent of alcohol.

At last, they stopped beneath a towering cliff.

This was the most remote corner of the entire island, filled with jagged rocks and rarely visited by anyone.

Whitebeard raised his head and looked toward the top of the cliff.

Marco and Chen Ye followed his gaze upward.

At the very edge of the cliff's summit sat a mountain-like, burly figure, all alone.

His back faced them as he looked out over the endless blue sea.

His long golden hair, like a lion's mane, streamed freely in the sea breeze.

The captain's coat draped casually over his shoulders rather than worn properly bore a purple skull emblem on its back, vivid and domineering beneath the sunlight.

Beside him rested a massive Sake Gourd taller than a man.

He did not turn around, nor did he make a sound.

Just his back alone radiated a terrifying presence capable of making all things submit.

It was not an intentionally released pressure. His very existence was equivalent to the laws of this sea.

Yet beneath that overbearing air of Reign Over the World, Chen Ye keenly caught something entirely different.

It was a feeling of... lingering loss.

The frustration of being unwilling to part with a close friend.

His emotions at that moment were like a dormant volcano—calm on the surface, yet within him gathered an immense force and emotion with nowhere to vent, enough to burn the entire world to ashes.

Marco's breathing unconsciously became a little rushed.

He looked at that back, then at the elderly "Pops" beside him. An unprecedented sense of temporal dislocation battered his understanding.

He knew that back far too well.

It was the man he had followed his entire life, at his most spirited and unmatched.

"Gurararara..."

The Whitebeard beside him let out a low chuckle.

That laughter carried a touch of nostalgia and a touch of self-mockery.

He looked at his younger self atop the cliff as though he were looking at a sulking child.

Chen Ye quietly walked to Whitebeard's side and looked up at that weathered face.

He did not suggest how they should go up, nor did he ask what they should do next.

He simply spoke softly in a tone of absolute trust.

"Pops."

"Use your way to say hello to your past self."

Marco was startled and instinctively wanted to stop him.

Say hello?

How were they supposed to say hello?

Say hello to Pops in that state?

That was Peak Whitebeard, boiling with pent-up anger!

The slightest hostile provocation could bring about a world-destroying disaster!

Yet Elderly Whitebeard showed none of Marco's concern.

He understood what Chen Ye meant.

He grinned, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

"Gurararara..."

"That's true."

"I can't just walk up like this. I'd scare my past self."

As soon as he finished speaking.

His right hand, weathered by the years, slowly rose.

There was no buildup.

No exaggerated stance.

There wasn't even a trace of Haki coating it.

He simply faced the empty sky and casually threw a punch forward.

Bzzzz—!

There was no earth-shaking roar.

No heaven-rending force.

Not even the air showed any visible signs of fracturing.

An invisible ripple spread gently outward from his fist.

It was not an "airquake" capable of destroying everything.

It was... a piece of "information."

A unique personal signature that only "Whitebeard" could sense.

This Vibration Power was incredibly faint, yet incomparably pure.

It bypassed the rocks and passed through the trees, without causing the slightest damage to any physical object around it.

Like a messenger bearing greetings from the future, it silently drifted toward the top of the cliff in a manner beyond the laws of physics.

Marco held his breath. He could feel that power brush past him.

That feeling... was far too familiar.

That was Pops's power!

The power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit!

Yet it was somewhat different.

Pops's vibrations at his peak had been wild, destructive, and tyrannical, like a tsunami that would swallow everything whole.

But this vibration carried a sense of... restraint and composure tempered by time.

As if it had seen through everything and returned to simplicity.

The corners of Chen Ye's mouth lifted slightly.

He knew.

His plan had already succeeded halfway.

Appearances could be disguised!

Voices could be imitated too!

But this personal signature, born from the depths of one's soul and Devil Fruit power, was an unrepeatable "password."

This greeting was more direct than any words.

It said—

"I'm here."

Atop the cliff.

The sea wind howled.

Peak Whitebeard tilted his head back, pouring the Strong Liquor from a massive gourd down his throat like a waterfall.

The fiery liquor ran down from the corners of his mouth, soaking the crescent-shaped mustache on his chest.

His gaze rested on the boundless sea, yet his eyes were unfocused.

In his mind still lingered the sight from not long ago: that bastard in the Straw Hat clutching his leg, begging with tears and snot streaming down his face.

"I'm leaving Oden to you, Roger."

He made it sound casual.

But inside, he was so frustrated he wanted to turn the entire sea before him upside down.

Just then.

His movements suddenly froze.

The motion of pouring wine came to a halt.

A trace of utter astonishment flashed through those hawk-sharp eyes.

He Slowly set down the Sake Gourd in his hand.

Because he sensed a ripple.

A ripple... one so familiar it could not have been more familiar, yet incomparably strange.

That ripple was coming from beneath the cliff.