Under Whitebeard's gaze, Garp scratched his head. "Did I say something wrong?"
Whitebeard's booming voice carried a note of confusion. "Garp? Did that Kaido bastard knock your brains loose? The last time we met was during that brawl before Roger's execution in Marineford Calendar 1497! That was nearly thirty years ago! Not only has your hair turned white, even your memory's deteriorated like seaweed! Gurarara!"
He laughed with immense delight, completely unaware of how devastating his words were.
"...Thirty years?" Garp turned to stone.
Sengoku's vision went dark. He had to grab the railing to keep from falling, muttering, "1497... thirty years... young Whitebeard... young Roger Pirates... time travel..."
The chain of logic seemed to have formed a "perfect" loop.
Even Chief Officer Tsuru's mask of calm cracked slightly. Looking at the young Whitebeard and the Oro Jackson, then thinking of the year "1497," even she began to question reality.
Fujitora frowned even more deeply. His Observation Haki could clearly sense Whitebeard's immense vitality and peak Haki; it could not be faked. But this timeline... was far too chaotic! He felt as though his "Mind's Eye" was starting to overload.
The entire Dog Head was shrouded in a philosophically bewildered atmosphere of "Who am I? Where am I? What year is it?"
Seeing everyone aboard the Dog Head—from the Fleet Admiral to the soldiers—questioning their lives, their expressions blank and their worldview utterly shattered, especially Garp's foolish "Who am I, where am I?" look, Gaban, who had been holding it in aboard the Oro Jackson for ages, finally burst!
"Pfft—Hahahahahaha!!!!! I can't take it anymore! I was dying from holding it in! Hahahaha!!"
Gaban clutched his stomach and laughed so hard he doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he pounded the railing, nearly laughing himself breathless.
"Garp! Sengoku!