On a small island in the South Blue, people stepping off a ship that had just docked were already talking about it...
"Only three hours left... Has Whitebeard arrived yet?"
"Who knows..."
In a certain country in the East Blue, a marketplace that should have been bustling was lifeless...
"Do you think he'll go? He may be Whitebeard, but he's getting pretty old..."
"And how many years has it been since he last made any big moves...?"
A dispirited vendor squatting on a crate spoke.
"He's a washed-up pirate... Besides, when has Marine Headquarters ever lost a battle?"
A man sitting beside him spoke up at his words.
"Win or lose, he'll die a glorious death..."
Across from them, an elderly man held a pipe between his teeth and spoke gravely.
"He'd be better off not going... Once the execution is over, this will all be settled... That would be best..."
In the freezing North Blue, people were talking about it too. Many merchants had even shut their shops to avoid trouble.
"Hey! Bring me some booze, shopkeeper!"
"Who can think about business at a time like this? Go home! Go home!"
"If the world's still in one piece tomorrow, I'll open up again!"
"Hey! At least sell me some booze! I can't get through this sober..."
Meanwhile, in a tavern somewhere in the West Blue, a pirate who sounded as though he had met Whitebeard leaned drunkenly against a wall. He had lost a foot and supported himself with a wooden crutch. Liquor dribbled from his mouth as he slurred.
"Don't lump him in with ordinary old men. He hasn't aged a bit... He's just like he used to be. Just seeing him standing there scared us out of our minds!"
On the Grand Line, a woman dressed as