After Oliva and his operation formally apologized to the Whitebeard Pirates for what they had done in Port Chibaralta, they closed up shop. With the matter settled, the island fell directly under Whitebeard’s control, rather than under a proxy as it had previously been.
In the pirating business, concepts like good and evil do not typically apply. In order to avoid the attention of the authorities—in this case, the World Government—most matters get handled privately between the parties involved.
This is why the law of the pirate’s code exists.
A fireball of a man flew off the Moby Dick and into the sea once again. When he fell into the water, his fire was extinguished.
“Was that the hundredth time?”
“I think so.”
The division leaders, released from the tension of the duel, finally let their thoughts out as words.
There was a crackling, singed smell floating about the deck. The duel between Portgaz D. Ace and Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate had come to a definitive end at last.
“Gura ra ra ra…”
Whitebeard had unleashed a small portion of the power of his Tremor-Tremor Fruit, an ability capable of destroying the world itself. He looked down at the palm of his hand.
“Young Doc’s going to scold me. I got burned in the same spot again,” he said, and glanced at the surface of the water.
Thatch sensed his captain’s meaning and ordered, “Someone pull him out!”
Wallace the fish-man immediately jumped into the water and scooped up the unconscious Ace before he could sink any farther down. When Wallace popped his head back out of the water, he saw a blue flame.
“Here, grab on.”
It was a bird of fire with wings outstretched. Commander Marco of the first division possessed the powers of a mythical-type Zoan fruit. He could turn into the phoenix signified by his epithet.
✦ ✦ ✦
Ace tried a hundred times, and failed a hundred times.
In the end, he could use his fiery fist to apply pressure to Whitebeard, but not to reach the top.
They brought him back onto the deck, soaking wet, and sat him with his back against the side of the gunwale. It was the same way that he’d woken up on the Moby Dick for the very first time.
He hadn’t gone in expecting a miracle to occur on his hundredth attempt. To Ace, this contest was no longer about winning or losing. The desire to take Whitebeard out had already left Ace’s heart, even before they fought.
It didn’t mean that he admitted he had lost.
The great man who was Whitebeard should never have been the target for Ace’s fist in the first place. It just took him a hundred losses before he finally admitted that to himself.
It was a pointless fight.
Young people often struggle with pointless pursuits until they realize for themselves that they are pointless. And that, in fact, is the point.
If only he could have noticed it. If only he could have admitted it.
“Why does everybody call him Pops?” Ace asked.
Pops, sons… Why would a bunch of rough pirates play family like this? Captain and crew, that’s how it should be.
The leader of the first division, Whitebeard’s right-hand man, contemplated this in silence before he answered, “Because he considers us his sons.”
“We’re just a bunch of strays and outcasts here,” said Marco, smiling gently.
Because we’re pirates…
Residents of the territory aside, to nearly all of the common people, the word “pirate” was synonymous with fear. They attacked, stole, killed, and were hated and shunned for it. The people preferred the class hierarchy and order that came from the rule of the World Government, rather than the chaos of pirates, who often came out of nowhere like a natural disaster.
“So it makes us feel good, whether he really means it or not.”
Like family…
“Become my son,” Whitebeard had said, the first time he met Ace.
No way, he thought. Ace had to suffer a life ruled by hatred for the terrible father whose sins and accursed blood tainted him. As the son of a demon, he became a pirate and made a name for himself in order to drive away that nightmare, and when he thought he’d at last become free, here was another man trying to control him.
But now that he’d spent time as a guest of the Whitebeard Pirates, he understood the meaning of the word “son” in a different light.
Become my son. If you want to terrorize the seas, do it in my name. And Whitebeard reached out to Ace.
Would taking his hand mean surrender?
Whitebeard accepted everything. That meant that he had been willing to sustain Ace’s companions, the Spade Pirates.
That was the greatness and generosity of the man named Edward Newgate.
The greatness…of a father.
He was a man who had created his own territory. His own sea.
He stood upon the sea and built not a system of law and justice, or fear and conquest—but a family.
Of course, it was all taken from others, everything gained by another’s loss.
It wasn’t about right or wrong.
Wherever Whitebeard’s skull and bones flew, there was family.
Pops, sons… Those weren’t just words. They weren’t a game of pretend.
Though they didn’t share any common blood, it was a symbolic bond they shared, forged through sweat and blood.
Ace looked back.
He wanted to let the world know the name his mother gave him: Portgaz D. Ace. So that he could wipe away the memory of his hatred for Roger. To destroy the worthless world that killed his brother Sabo with such cruelty and callousness.
To live without regrets.
Looking back produced only memories of Sabo and Luffy.
I want to be able to look back at them—and most of all, my young self—and not feel ashamed of my choices…
Whatever form that takes.
“After the way your life was spared, you gonna keep going like this?” Marco asked his guest. “Make up your mind already. You won’t be able to kill Pops in your condition. Either get off this ship and try again later, or stay…and take the mark of Whitebeard on your back!”