Marineford fell into dead silence.
Just as the Whitebeard Pirates were about to leave, Akainu had completely lost his mind. He charged after them, ignoring everything.
Even after Shinju declared the war was over, Akainu still couldn't accept it. He needed something to vent.
Since he couldn't touch that group…
Then at the very least, he'd take down Whitebeard.
The old man was already at the end of his life. If Akainu could kill him here, he'd erase a massive threat.
While everyone's attention was elsewhere, Akainu suddenly lunged forward in a reckless ambush.
Whitebeard was old—his will was there, but his body no longer kept up. Faced with a Navy Admiral's full-power strike, he still couldn't block it.
Akainu barked out a single word.
"Hound of Hell."
A hole was blasted straight through Whitebeard's body.
The Whitebeard Pirates all cried out at once.
"Pops!!"
Whitebeard's body had already been failing. Now it had reached its limit.
Even Shinju hadn't expected Akainu's obsession to run this deep.
deep enough to risk his own head just to kill Whitebeard.
Shinju had originally planned to harvest Whitebeard's Tremor-Tremor Fruitusing a special method.
But now…
Whitebeard really was about to leave the stage.
Shinju stepped in directly. One punch flipped Akainu away.
"I already said the war is over. Do you not understand human speech?"
He turned and walked straight to Whitebeard.
Ace saw Pops' condition and immediately begged Shinju to save him.
Shinju could clearly see it.
The fire of Whitebeard's life was going out.
"Sorry, Ace. This time… there's really nothing I can do."
The little life force he had left was a flicker, like a candle in the wind.
But within that flicker, a harsh, dazzling white energy writhed restlessly.
The Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
Or rather…
The system's rule fragment Shinju had been searching for all along.
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard laughed.
Blood slid from the corner of his mouth, staining that white moustache red.
"Brat… you saved Ace. I should thank you," Whitebeard said, staring at Shinju. "But my senses don't lie. You didn't come with kindness either. Are you here to take my head… or to take this era?"
Shinju stopped.
"I'm here to reclaim what belongs to me," Shinju said. "As for the era… it never belonged to any one person."
Whitebeard narrowed his eyes.
He understood.
This young man who appeared out of nowhere possessed power that stood above the entire sea.
That pressure from just a moment ago had made the whole island tremble.
This wasn't the same "level."
It was higher-dimensional suppression.
Whitebeard drew in a deep breath.
"Ace," Whitebeard said. "Was I a good father?"
Ace froze.
Tears spilled from his eyes and splattered onto the deck.
"Of course! You're the best Pops!"
"Good."
Shinju stood there with his hands in his pockets, expression calm.
Whitebeard gave a short laugh and coughed up a clot of blood.
"Brat… you want this power?"
Whitebeard raised his left hand. A white halo gathered in his palm.
Shinju nodded.
"Wasting it on you," Shinju said bluntly. "Your body can't carry the weight of the rules. That's why you got sick. That's why you aged. Hand it over to me, this is where it belongs."
The pirates around them didn't understand a word.
Rules? Belonging? What was he even talking about?
Wasn't it just a Devil Fruit ability?
But Whitebeard understood.
He stared at the halo in his hand.
For years, he'd ruled the sea with this strength—staring down every monster.
His understanding of Devil Fruits had long surpassed most people's.
This power wasn't just a blessing.
It was also a kind of curse.
Now he was going to die.
And when he died, that power would be reborn somewhere in the sea—claimed by an ambitious bastard, or recovered by the Navy.
That wasn't the ending he wanted.
This brat in front of him…
And that brat had a kind of purity—something beyond good and evil.
"Brat," Whitebeard panted. "What's your name?"
"Shinju."
"Good name."
Whitebeard locked eyes with him.
"If you want it… then take it!"
Whitebeard roared—and did something that left everyone stunned.
He didn't attack Shinju.
He drove his left hand, wrapped in quake power straight into his own abdomen.
The muscles in his face twitched, but he didn't make a sound.
With sheer will, he forcibly tore the power out of his own body.
It violated every "rule" of Devil Fruits.
A user dies, and only then does the fruit reincarnate.
No one had ever been able to peel it off while still alive.
But Whitebeard did it.
Because he was Whitebeard—the strongest man on this sea.
"GRAAAAH!!"
Whitebeard let out a low, crushing roar.
Space around him began to warp.
A blinding, pure-white sphere was ripped out of his body, clenched in his hand.
It throbbed violently, wildly unstable, radiating a destructive aura.
This was the Tremor-Tremor Fruit's origin.
The rule fragment Shinju spoke of.
The instant he lost that power, Whitebeard's presence plummeted.
"Take it… brat," Whitebeard rasped. "Don't let this power be buried."
The raging white sphere became strangely gentle as it floated to Shinju, landing in his palm.
The moment it touched him, it vanished.
Inside Shinju's mind, the system notification sounded.
The rule of "Vibration" merged into his Hall of Heroic Spirits.
"Deal complete," Shinju said. "In return, I'll send you off."
Whitebeard shook his head.
"No need."
Whitebeard straightened his back.
Even now, he was still the monster that made the world tremble.
He drew in his final breath.
Every Den Den Mushi camera was aimed at him.
Whitebeard opened his mouth and used the last of his life to shout that declaration.
"THE ONE PIECE…"
"IS REAL!!!"
Sengoku's face turned iron-gray when he heard it broadcast live.
The thing he feared most had happened.
The flames of the Great Pirate Era were supposed to die here
But Whitebeard had poured a barrel of oil onto them instead.
That fire would burn even hotter.
After shouting it, Whitebeard held that posture.
Both hands gripping his bisento.
Feet planted hard in the ice.
He didn't move.
His eyes remained open, staring forward.
Even in death, his spine didn't bend an inch.
On his back, the Whitebeard Pirates' massive tattoo was perfectly intact.
A lifetime of battle
And his back had never been scarred by a blade.
That was the highest pride a pirate could have.
Only after a long time did the sound of a weapon dropping ring out.
"Pops…"
Marco dropped to his knees, crying out.
All around, the Whitebeard Pirates drowned in grief.
(End of Chapter)
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