Thunderous Rage of Peak Whitebeard at an Impostor?!

At the top of the cliff.

Peak Whitebeard's sharp, eagle-like pupils suddenly constricted to pinpoints.

Something was wrong!

This feeling... was wrong!

The faint ripple drifting up from below the cliff was indeed the power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit—utterly pure, emanating from the soul, impossible to fake.

But the problem was that this power carried something he despised most, something that should never have appeared on him.

It was a... decaying aura.

How was that possible?!

He, Edward Newgate, was the king who reigned over these seas! The World's Strongest Man!

His power was destruction, dominance, and overwhelming force!

Since when had it become so... decrepit?!

"Bastard..."

Peak Whitebeard let out a low roar from his throat. The displeasure and frustration written across his face were instantly replaced by boundless fury.

He felt an unprecedented humiliation.

This made him ten thousand times angrier than when that bastard Roger had poached Oden right in front of him!

Who was it?

Who the hell was desecrating his power in this way?!

Boom—!

He did not even bend his knees.

His mountain-like body simply plunged straight down from the hundred-meter-high cliff.

The air beneath his feet seemed to turn into solid ground, erupting with a dull blast!

He transformed into a golden afterimage, carrying incomparable fury and overwhelming presence as he instantly crossed the distance.

"Pops!"

Marco's vision blurred. A terrifying aura that seemed capable of freezing his very soul crashed into him like a tsunami.

He screamed instinctively, wanting to stand in front of Elderly Whitebeard.

But before that Conqueror's Haki that reigned over the world, his body stiffened like a statue. He could not even move a finger.

Too fast!

Too strong!

This was the invincible man he remembered!

His mere arrival made everything around him pale in comparison!

The dust settled.

Peak Whitebeard stood before the three of them like an insurmountable Mountain Range.

His golden hair whipped wildly in the wind, and the muscles of his bare upper body bulged with explosive strength.

His gaze, like a drawn blade, first swept over Marco, whose face had gone pale with fear.

His brows furrowed even deeper.

Something was wrong with this Marco's eyes.

How could his son look at him as though he had seen a ghost? And... he seemed a little older.

Then, his gaze fell on Chen Ye.

A strange young man. He was not weak, but the excessively calm expression on his face made Whitebeard intensely displeased.

Finally.

His gaze landed upon the source of the aura that had set his rage ablaze.

The moment he saw the other man clearly, the last string in his mind called "reason" snapped completely.

It was a man... who looked exactly like him.

No.

That was not him at all.

It was a monster in the twilight of its years, wearing his face!

His aged face was covered in wrinkles, his body was riddled with scars left by old wounds, and he even needed to lean on that Supreme Grade Sword as a cane just to stand.

That sickly, half-dead appearance was like a mirror, reflecting the future he least wanted to imagine—and could never accept.

Humiliation!

This was an unprecedented humiliation!

Peak Whitebeard's chest heaved violently, two streams of scorching breath blasting from his nostrils.

He understood now.

There were all sorts of strange Devil Fruit abilities on these seas.

Abilities that copied appearances were not unheard of.

For instance, he remembered a Copy-Copy Fruit that could make someone look exactly like anyone else.

So this thing before him had to be some foolhardy ability user provoking him in this manner!

He wanted to use this aged appearance to shake his mind? To disgust him?

Absolutely ridiculous!

"Gurararara..."

Peak Whitebeard let out a low, suppressed laugh, filled with fury so immense it was on the verge of erupting and destroying everything.

"You bastard!"

A thunderous roar exploded across the entire shore!

The surrounding rocks instantly filled with spiderweb-like cracks beneath that bellow.

"I've seen plenty of Devil Fruit users who copy my appearance!"

Peak Whitebeard's iron-hard fist clenched fiercely.

Bzzzz—!

A layer of pure white halo, like cracked glass, instantly enveloped his entire fist.

The air around him let out an overloaded wail before that power, brutally compressed and torn apart!

"But you're the first one who dared use this half-dead appearance to disgust me..."

His eyes, blazing with towering rage, locked firmly onto Elderly Whitebeard.

"You're the fucking first!"

The instant his words fell, he moved!

No more pointless talk.

No hesitation whatsoever.

This king who ruled the seas vented his rage in the most direct, most domineering manner possible!

His fist, wrapped in Vibration Power, became like a white meteor streaking across the sky, carrying enough terrifying force to split even an island in two as it crashed ruthlessly toward Elderly Whitebeard's face!

He held nothing back in this punch!

He wanted to wipe this impostor who had dared profane his dignity—and that disgusting aged shell of his—from this world... completely!

"No—! Pops!"

Marco's pupils shrank to pinpoints as he let out a heart-wrenching scream.

Blue flames instantly ignited around him as he charged forward without regard for anything, trying to block the attack.

But he failed.

Before Peak Whitebeard's furious full-force strike, his speed was as slow as a snail's.

Yet, to everyone's surprise—

Faced with that punch capable of destroying everything, Elderly Whitebeard showed not the slightest hint of panic.

He did not even look at that world-shattering fist.

His gaze passed beyond it, toward the face behind it—the face identical to his own in his youth, yet filled with furious rage.

Instead, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips, carrying a trace of nostalgia and relief.

"Gurararara..."

"You really haven't changed at all, my past self."

"Still so hot-tempered, huh."

Brat!

He chuckled softly, as though judging an unruly child.

Then—

Under Marco's despairing gaze.

Under Chen Ye's calm eyes.

Elderly Whitebeard slowly raised his right hand, covered in age spots.

He clenched it into a fist as well.

It too was not wrapped in Armament Haki.

A white halo identical to the one across from him, though far dimmer, spread over his fist.

Then, facing that "white meteor" capable of destroying the world—

Without dodging or retreating, he met it head-on.