The sea churned restlessly that morning, a thick, oppressive fog clinging to the water like a bad omen. The sun fought to pierce the mist, its pale rays shimmering faintly across the waves. The Moby Dick, proud flagship of the Whitebeard Pirates, sailed alongside the looming silhouette of Thriller Bark. And now, after all his bluster and stubborn pride, Gecko Moria had finally accepted Whitebeard's offer—not just as an ally, but as one of them. A Whitebeard Pirate.
His monstrous ship sailed beneath a freshly raised Whitebeard Jolly Roger, the skull-and-moustache flag billowing in the eerie stillness. On the Moby Dick's main deck, Lupin adjusted the strap of his gun holster. His dark eyes locked onto Moria, standing tall on his own deck. Shadows danced at the man's feet, twisting and writhing as if alive. But what caught Lupin wasn't the display of power — it was the way Moria stared at him, not with animosity, but something closer to curiosity… or maybe challenge.
This wasn't about personal grudges. This was family business.
Lupin wasn't fighting for fun. Not for ego. Not even for the thrill of a good scrap. He was fighting for his name, for the place he'd bled and clawed for among the greatest pirate crew in the world. To show every brother around him — old faces and new — that he belonged here.
[Quest: Reckless Son Showdown]
Objective: Fight Gecko Moria to prove who's the true Reckless Son of Whitebeard.
Time Limit: 2 Days
Win: Earn more respect among the Whitebeard Pirates
Lose: Lose respect
Reward: 1 Creation Point
A spark of heat bloomed in Lupin's chest. His fists clenched, heart steady.
"Oi, Pops!" His voice cut sharp through the sounds of the busy deck. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Curious glances swung his way. "I challenge Moria! Right here, right now!"
For a second, the world went quiet. Even the rowdiest of Whitebeard's sons fell silent, watching the moment unfold.
Then came the low, rumbling chuckle.
"Gurarara…" Whitebeard's booming laugh rolled over them like a wave. He sat up from his massive throne-like chair, the deck creaking under his bulk. "Another challenge, huh? Moria wants to see what my boys are made of, it seems."
He rose to his feet. The mist itself seemed to still.
"Listen up, my sons!" Whitebeard's voice carried across both ships. "Whoever wins this fight… will be the new Second Division Commander!"
The air shifted. A collective gasp swept through the deck. Even Marco's steady expression faltered for a beat. That title hadn't been spoken aloud in years—not since Oden's death. It had remained sacred, untouchable.
Whitebeard wasn't just letting them fight. He was looking to fill a throne left vacant by a legend.
Moria grinned wide. "Finally… a title fit for a monster. I'll show you all what real strength looks like. You'll need someone like me when the war comes."
Lupin's gaze didn't flinch. "You won't be disappointed."
Within minutes, the deck cleared. A wide circle formed, sons old and new gathering to witness the showdown. Wagers were called, voices raised, and the air thickened with tension. This wasn't just a scuffle anymore. This was history.
Lupin drew his revolver, the polished steel catching what little sunlight broke through the fog. No need for more words now.
The fight spoke louder.
It began in a flash. Lupin fired first, bullets cutting through the mist, silenced by the power of his Calm-Calm Fruit. Moria's shadows twisted up like living walls, batting the shots aside. But Lupin could see it — the gleam in Moria's eye. The man wasn't just defending himself. He was testing him. Measuring him.
"Interesting, brother." Moria's voice was a gravelly rumble as tendrils of shadow lashed toward Lupin.
He rolled aside, firing again. One bullet grazed Moria's thick arm, drawing a narrow line of blood. The big man's grin widened.
"Not bad."
They clashed hard — Lupin's speed, agility, and sharpshooting against Moria's sheer monstrous power and those relentless, shifting shadows. Every exchange rocked the deck. Lupin darted, ducked, and struck with surgical precision, but Moria adapted fast, his shadows snaring and striking with brutal strength.
A shadow-fist caught Lupin in the ribs, launching him back against a mast. He hit hard, blood splattering from his lips. Pain screamed through him, but his glare held steady.
"You're strong, brother," he coughed, wiping blood away, "but I'm not done."
Whitebeard's laughter thundered. "Gurarara! Show him what you've got, my son! The title's on the line!"
Lupin surged forward. He wasn't fighting to win now — he was fighting to prove he'd never back down, that win or lose, he belonged.
But it wasn't enough.
Moria's shadows pinned him down. A massive strike landed home, knocking the revolver from his grip and slamming him flat. A heavy silence fell.
Whitebeard stepped forward, his laugh echoing again. "Gurarara! You fought well, boy. Moria earned it today."
His massive hand landed on Lupin's shoulder, the weight nearly toppling him.
Turning to Moria, Whitebeard's voice boomed out across the ships.
"From this day forward — Moria commands the Second Division! Prove your worth in battle, my son!"
A roar of cheers rose. Weapons raised in salute. The brothers welcomed their new commander.
[Quest Completed: Reckless Son Showdown]
Result: Loss
Reward: 1 Creation Point acquired.
The sun dipped low, bleeding the sky crimson and gold. Ships arrived one after another — the last of Whitebeard's fleet gathering for what everyone knew was coming. Old allies, past rivals turned brothers under one flag.
Whitebeard stood at the Moby Dick's bow, his bisento raised.
"Tomorrow, we sail for Wano!" he roared. "For Oden — for our family — for every soul shackled by Kaido's chains!"
The fleet answered with a roar, a rolling tide of voices loud enough to shake the sea itself.
Lupin leaned against the rail, battered, bruised, but standing. A familiar soft chime sounded in his head, and a new system window blinked into view.
[New Monthly Quest Received]
Quest: Embrace the Onslaught
Objective: Survive the Whitebeard Pirates' war against the Beast Pirates and Big Mom Pirates.
Reward: 1 Title Card, 1 Mystery Chest, 1 Creation Point
Failure: Death
He laughed weakly, wiping a bloodied lip. His chest still ached from the fight, but a cold dread settled in his gut. The details of the quest were clear — but so was what he'd deduced in the last few weeks. The war ahead wasn't against one Emperor. It was against two. And most of his brothers didn't realize it yet.
The odds were impossible.
This wasn't a war. It was a death march.