The legendary duel, a story that would be told and retold by historians for generations, raged for three full days and three nights.
By day, the two most powerful pirate crews on the sea, the Roger Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates, clashed on the island in a raw contest of strength. The power on display was enough to make the world tremble. Gol D. Roger's powerful Haki, channeled through his blade, met the world-ending force of Whitebeard's Tremor-Tremor Fruit in a perfectly even match. Nearby, the blinding light of Rayleigh's sword strikes clashed with the brilliant blue flames of Marco the Phoenix, while Scopper Gaban's heavy axe rang out like a bell against the diamond-hard body of Jozu.
Shockwaves of Haki tore through the island's center again and again. Each time the two captains clashed, the force was so great that the very sky seemed to split apart. The island itself would be permanently scarred from their battle.
But when night fell, a strange, unspoken truce began. The fighting stopped completely. Both crews returned to their camps on opposite sides of the battlefield and lit large bonfires. The men who had been trying to kill each other just hours before now sat across a massive crater, separated by the evidence of their captains' power. They weren't fighting anymore; instead, they were raising their cups in a toast.
"Hey, Newgate! You got any good booze left over there?!" Roger yelled, his voice booming across the clearing.
"Gurahahaha! If you want it, come and get it yourself, Roger!" Whitebeard's hearty laugh echoed in response.
And so, a truly bizarre scene began to unfold. A member of the Roger Pirates, nursing a deep gash on his arm, grumbled as he walked over to the Whitebeard Pirates' camp. He wasn't looking for another fight—he just needed a clean bandage to patch himself up. From the other side, Thatch of the Whitebeard Pirates confidently strolled into the enemy camp. He carried a large platter piled high with freshly roasted sea beast meat, hoping to trade it for a bottle of that special hard liquor from the West Blue that Roger's crew was famous for.
At dusk on the third day, Roger and Whitebeard clashed one final time. The force of the blow sent them both flying backward. They landed hard, looked at each other across the ruined landscape, and then burst into laughter. Just like that, the ridiculous war turned into an even more ridiculous party.
What had started as a battle where the winner would take everything had turned into a massive gift exchange.
"Hahaha! Newgate, I'll gladly take this ridiculous gun you stole from the Marines!" Roger shouted, slinging an overly decorated flintlock pistol over his shoulder. It was so ornate that it had shiny gems glued to the muzzle.
"Gurahahaha! And this hat of yours is pretty good! It's just the right size for Oden to use as a soup bowl!" Whitebeard laughed as he placed a captured Marine officer's hat on Kozuki Oden's head, causing the man from Wano to let out a series of strange, happy cries.
The crew members from both sides were covered in bruises and wrapped in bandages, but every single one of them had a huge, genuine smile on their face. They threw their arms around each other's shoulders, sharing food, trading fine wine, and even "borrowing" treasures that their crewmates had stolen from the other ship. They loudly boasted about their victories during the day, only for someone from the other crew to call them a liar. This usually led to a friendly wrestling match that had to be broken up by their friends, who would force them both to drink a large gulp of sake to make up.
The entire island was noisy, chaotic, and filled with a strange, perfect harmony.
High above the chaos, an observer named Kyle sat on a thick tree branch, his legs swinging freely. He took a bite from an apple he'd likely stolen from someone's stash and watched the strange party below with a grin, as if he were watching the world's greatest show.
This was what it meant to be a pirate. Strong, free, and wild. They fought with all their heart and then made peace just as easily. This was Roger's special talent—he could draw in other monsters like Whitebeard, people who understood this pure way of life.
Kyle's eyes moved from Roger and Whitebeard, who were now laughing together on top of a giant mushroom, to a small group of apprentices at the edge of the party. A silent, tense standoff was happening there.
Kyle squinted, looking closer. Wait a minute, he thought. Is that Blackbeard?
A young Marshall D. Teach stood at the edge of the Whitebeard Pirates' camp with his arms crossed and a serious look on his face. His intense gaze cut through the flickering bonfire and the celebrating crowd, locked onto two boys on the other side: the red-haired kid, Shanks, and the one with the big red nose, Buggy.
"Captain Marco," Teach said, his voice low and his eyes still fixed on the other apprentices. "Those two on Roger's ship, the red-haired one and the red-nosed one... are they just new recruits?"
Marco, the first division commander, glanced over and let out a lazy yawn. "Yoi, you mean Shanks and Buggy? Nah, they've been around for a while. They're practically veterans."
"Is that so?" Teach narrowed his eyes. "They don't look that strong to me."
Meanwhile, in the Roger Pirates' camp, the mood was completely different.
"Hey, Shanks," Buggy whispered, leaning in so close that his nose almost touched Shanks's ear. He spoke as if he were sharing a world-shattering secret. "Do you see that guy on the other side? The one with the weird hat?"
"Yeah, I see him. What about it?" Shanks replied, clearly not paying much attention.
"He..." Buggy's face twisted in fear, and his bright red nose seemed to glow even brighter in the firelight. "He hasn't slept at all! Not for three whole nights!"
Shanks just shrugged, unimpressed. "So? What's the big deal? It's not like not sleeping makes you a big shot."
"You idiot!" Buggy hissed, stomping his foot in frustration. "That's not the point! I secretly heard one of the Whitebeard pirates say that guy... that guy has never slept in his entire life! They say his life is twice as long as a normal person's!"
He paused, staring at Teach in the distance as if he were looking at a terrifying Sea King that had just crawled onto the land. His voice trembled as he finished, "He's a monster, Shanks! A real monster!"
Shanks just looked confused, scratching his head. He completely failed to understand why Buggy was so scared.
But they had no idea what was really happening on the other side of the bonfire. The future Yonko, Blackbeard, was feeling an intense pressure of his own. A single drop of cold sweat ran down Marshall D. Teach's forehead. His tough expression was just a mask, hiding the storm of panic raging inside him. His eyes weren't on the red-haired kid; they were locked on the apprentice with the big red nose.
That red-nosed kid... why does he keep staring at me? Teach thought desperately. He's been staring at me since the first night. He didn't stop on the second night. And now, on the third night, he's still staring! He hasn't blinked once, and he has this look on his face... like he knows my deepest, darkest secret!
Teach felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and the hair on his arms stood on end.
Up in the tree, Kyle nearly choked on his apple as he finally put the pieces together. He quickly covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and falling from his branch. Down below, two future legends were locked in a tense standoff, both absolutely terrified of the other for completely different, and completely wrong, reasons.
Buggy was thinking, That guy is a monster! He hasn't slept in three days!
At the exact same moment, Teach was thinking, That red-nosed kid is a monster! He's been staring at me for three days!
----------------
You can read advanced chapters here: patreon.com/GregariousLion