The deck of the Moby Dick was quiet.
Not silent.
A ship like this never became truly silent.
Wood creaked. Sails shifted. The sea slapped against the great hull. Somewhere farther back, one of the newer crewmen who had dropped from Giovanni's burst of Conqueror's Haki was being dragged out of the way while another got smacked upside the head for panicking.
But at the center of the ship—
Where the strongest men stood—
There was quiet.
Giovanni stood facing Whitebeard.
Water still dripped from his clothes. His hair was damp. His sword hung easily at his side. And even surrounded by the monsters of the Whitebeard Pirates, he looked more excited than intimidated.
Whitebeard leaned back slightly in his chair, massive sake bowl in one hand, eyes narrowed with interest.
Then the old man laughed.
"Gurararara!"
The sound rolled across the deck like thunder.
"So you're Giovanni."
Giovanni blinked.
"…You know me?"
Whitebeard grinned.
"Of course I do, brat."
His eyes gleamed as he looked Giovanni up and down again.
"You're that kid with the two hundred million berry bounty who beat down a Celestial Dragon."
Several of the pirates nearby laughed or muttered in surprise.
"Two hundred million…"
"That young?"
"So it really is him…"
Marco folded his arms and gave Giovanni a sharper look than before. Jozu grinned openly now. Vista, standing with one hand resting lightly near his sword, looked quietly amused.
Giovanni scratched his cheek and smiled.
"Well… when you say it like that, it sounds a little extreme."
Jozu barked a laugh.
"A little?!"
Whitebeard chuckled again.
"I like you."
Giovanni straightened a little.
Whitebeard continued, still smiling.
"I knew you were on the crew of that Red-Haired Shanks."
At the mention of Shanks, several members of the crew exchanged glances.
Whitebeard took another drink before going on.
"That crew has been making enough noise over the past two years to irritate half the sea…"
He lowered the bowl.
"But I heard nothing of you."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"And yet here you are."
He tilted his head.
"So what is it, brat? Did you quit being a pirate?"
The question hung there.
Several of the Whitebeard Pirates watched more carefully now, curious what sort of answer a young pirate with that kind of Haki would give in front of Whitebeard himself.
Giovanni's grin faded Into clarity.
"No," he said. "I haven't quit."
He rolled one shoulder and looked up at Whitebeard directly.
"I've been training."
Giovanni kept going.
"So that when I enter the New World…"
His hand brushed lightly against the hilt of his sword.
"I'll be more than ready for it."
Whitebeard stared at him for a moment.
Then laughed again, broader this time.
"Gurararara!"
Now that, he liked.
The boy hadn't come with excuses. Hadn't hidden behind his age. Hadn't talked like a fool trying to sound brave.
He had simply stated the truth.
Whitebeard's grin widened.
"Impressive."
He shifted in his seat, the huge chair creaking beneath his frame.
"Then what? Have you climbed onto my ship to foolishly challenge me?"
His eyes glinted with amusement.
"Because I can feel it from you, brat."
He tapped one thick finger lightly against the arm of his chair.
"That fighting spirit."
The air seemed to thicken just a little.
Giovanni smiled.
There was no fear in him at all now. Just excitement.
"Someday?"
He nodded once.
"Definitely."
That answer alone made several of the Whitebeard Pirates laugh.
But Giovanni raised one hand before Whitebeard could say more.
"But I'm not foolish enough to do that right now."
That made Whitebeard laugh harder.
"Good answer!"
Then Giovanni turned.
His gaze landed not on Whitebeard.
But on Vista.
The Flower Sword stood with effortless poise, one hand near his weapon, his curled mustache and composed expression making him look more like a noble duelist than a pirate.
Giovanni's eyes sharpened immediately.
Then he drew his sword.
The sound of steel leaving its sheath rang cleanly across the deck.
Several Whitebeard Pirates reacted at once.
Marco's posture changed.
Jozu took a step.
A few others muttered.
But Giovanni didn't point the blade at Whitebeard.
He pointed it at Vista.
The 5th division commander blinked once.
Then smiled.
Giovanni's grin returned.
"As a fellow swordsman…"
His voice carried just enough challenge to make the whole deck lean in.
"I'd like to see how far, or how close I am to the infamous Vista of the Flower Sword."
The reaction was immediate.
"OHHHH?!"
"He's challenging Vista?!"
"This kid's got guts!"
Jozu laughed loudly. "I like this brat!"
Marco rubbed his temple but was clearly interested too. "Straight to Vista, huh…"
Whitebeard's grin never faded.
He looked toward Vista.
"Well?"
Vista smiled properly now.
Like a man being offered exactly the kind of thing he enjoyed.
His fingers rested more comfortably on his sword.
"What a direct young man," Vista said.
His eyes stayed on Giovanni.
"I don't dislike that."
The air on deck shifted again.
The swordsmen among the crew paid closer attention. Even pirates who didn't care much for blade work understood when one dangerous person challenged another.
And for Giovanni—
This was exactly what he wanted.
A real measure.
A real swordsman.
A real distance between where he was and where he wished to be.
---
Elsewhere in the New World
The mood could not have been more different.
A rough, noisy pirate bar sat somewhere in the New World, built half into a cliffside and half onto a wooden dock that looked like it should have collapsed years ago.
Inside, pirates drank, cursed, sang badly, and gambled with the sort of casual recklessness that came naturally in the sea ruled by monsters.
At one table near the center sat the Red-Haired Pirates.
Shanks lounged back with a drink in hand, boots up on another chair, as if the whole bar belonged to him.
Beside him, Benn Beckman smoked with the patience of a man who had long since given up trying to stop his captain from being himself.
Lucky Roo was eating.
Limejuice was drinking, though with the expression of someone who wanted to appear cooler than everyone else at the table.
The topic, somehow, had turned back to Giovanni.
Shanks stared into his drink for a second, then sighed.
"I wonder how Gio's doing."
Lucky Roo bit into a chunk of meat and spoke around it.
"Probably picking fights he shouldn't."
Limejuice snorted into his glass.
"That doesn't narrow it down."
Shanks laughed.
Then a wanted poster slid across the table.
Beckman had pulled it from inside his coat and dropped it there.
Shanks picked it up and grinned.
"Well, at least the Government thinks we're doing fine."
Lucky Roo leaned over.
"Oh? Let's hear them."
Shanks held up his own poster first and said it in the most casual tone possible.
"Mine's 800 million now."
That drew a few whistles from nearby pirates who were listening in despite pretending not to.
Lucky Roo gave an approving nod. "As expected."
Beckman flicked ash aside and said, "I'm at 500 million."
Limejuice lifted his own cup and said, "270 million."
Lucky Roo thumped the table once and grinned. "300 million."
Building Snake adjusted his coat and said, almost like he was reporting weather, "145 million."
Hongo looked at his own poster once before setting it down again.
"179 million."
Bonk Punch grunted.
"100 million."
Then several eyes turned toward Monster.
The monkey puffed up proudly.
Shanks grinned like a child about to tell the funniest joke in the world.
"Monster."
Monster chirped.
Shanks held up the tiny wanted poster.
"100 berries."
The entire table lost it.
Lucky Roo nearly choked laughing. Limejuice actually had to put his drink down. Even Beckman's shoulders shook once.
Monster, however, looked outraged.
He screeched and slapped the poster with both hands.
"That's what you get for being too powerful," Shanks said solemnly.
Monster screeched louder.
Bonk Punch rumbled with low amusement.
The laughter faded after a while into that easy, dangerous sort of comfort that only real pirate crews seemed to manage.
Then Shanks leaned back again.
"Still…"
He looked toward the open bar window and the dark New World sea beyond.
"I wonder if he's gotten stronger."
Beckman took a drag from his cigarette.
"If Rayleigh accepted him, then he has."
Lucky Roo nodded. "And if Gio's surviving the old man's training, he'll come back annoying and powerful."
Limejuice swirled his drink.
"So… just more Giovanni."
"Exactly," Shanks said brightly.
Hongo, quiet until now, finally spoke.
"He'll return."
The others looked at him.
Hongo's eyes remained on the table, thoughtful.
"A man like that doesn't train just to improve. He trains because he already sees the person he intends to become."
The table grew a little quieter at that.
Shanks smiled.
"Yeah."
He raised his drink slightly.
"He'd better."
And somewhere far away, in another part of the New World, on the deck of the Moby Dick, Giovanni stood facing one of Whitebeard's strongest swordsmen with a grin on his face and challenge in his eyes.
---
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