-Broadcast-
Kozuki Momonosuke's world collapsed in on itself. His hands trembled violently as he stared at the newspaper, tears welling up in eyes that had already cried themselves dry in the garbage pit.
No. No, this can't be real. It's a lie. It has to be a lie.
"You're lying to me!" The words tore from his throat as a desperate scream. "You're lying! Whitebeard is invincible at sea—the man my father admired most! How could he die?! HOW COULD HE DIE?!"
[The boy who wasn't even ten years old subconsciously chose denial over acceptance. Reality was too terrible to face, so his mind rejected it entirely.]
Momonosuke's bloodshot eyes fixed on Trafalgar Law with feral intensity. In that moment, he looked less like a child and more like a cornered beast—something that had survived by becoming monstrous, barely restraining the animal instincts that months in hell had cultivated.
The newspaper crumpled in his shaking hands. Then he tore it—ripped it into pieces with wild, irrational fury. Fragments of newsprint flew through the air as he hurled them at his benefactor.
"Liar! Liar! LIAR!"
The breakdown was complete. Whatever fragile composure Momonosuke had maintained shattered under the weight of unacceptable reality. He couldn't even maintain basic rationality, couldn't think beyond the terrible knowledge that his last hope was gone.
Trafalgar Law's sardonic smile faded as he watched the child's stress reaction. His golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
[Based on the intensity of the boy's response, Law revised his initial assessment. The child might genuinely have connections to Edward Newgate—or at least believed he did with such conviction that the difference was meaningless. If this proved to be an act, it would indicate acting skills far beyond what any eight-year-old should possess. A prodigy like that, uncontrolled, represented a threat best eliminated early.]
But Law's instincts said otherwise. This wasn't performance—this was authentic trauma.
"I didn't know you before I saved you," Law said quietly, his voice losing its mocking edge. "I decided to speak with you today on a whim. I wouldn't waste effort forging newspapers, and besides—I have plenty of these."
He bent down and pulled open the drawer at his feet, revealing a thick stack of newspapers. All showed signs of age—yellowed edges, creased corners, the distinctive smell of paper that had been sitting for months.
Law grabbed a handful and tossed them toward Momonosuke. The papers scattered across the floor around the boy's feet.
"When I rescued you, you reeked of death and decay. I'm guessing you spent considerable time in that garbage pit." Law's clinical tone made the horrifying subject matter sound almost casual. "Staying in darkness for extended periods causes temporal disorientation. These newspapers are from three months ago, when news of Whitebeard's death first broke. It was the hottest topic across the entire sea."
Trafalgar Law couldn't help the bitter thought: who really benefited from the Battle of Marineford? Was it the victorious Marines? The defeated pirates? From current evidence, neither.
Only one person had made a fortune from that war: Morgans, the News Coo King and one of the underworld's most influential figures. Not only had his newspaper prices doubled after the battle, they'd sold out worldwide. During peak demand, even tripling the cost hadn't slowed sales—people bought every copy they could find.
Law had to admire Morgans' business acumen, even if he found it morally repugnant. The birdman had milked the Marineford story for everything it was worth. Brief battle summaries had expanded into multi-issue analyses. Special guests had been invited to discuss post-battle implications. Military deployments on both sides were dissected. Casualty estimates were revised repeatedly.
Morgans had printed Marineford content over and over, nearly a hundred special issues. When substantial information ran dry, he'd commissioned writers to add filler content. Influential figures across the seas were paid to provide commentary. One event was watered down and stretched across months of publications. And people had bought every single issue.
Only three months after the battle had public enthusiasm finally begun waning. Otherwise, Morgans would have continued the spam indefinitely, reprinting the same old content with minor variations until even loyal readers grew bored.
Not that the newspaper king was suffering. His front-page exclusives and willingness to report controversial material had earned him both fame and enemies. Several of his branch offices had been shut down by Marine or World Government pressure—consequences of printing stories "not conducive to unity."
Morgans had dug those holes himself, and seemed perfectly content to keep digging.
Kozuki Momonosuke slowly lowered his trembling hands. The tears he'd been holding back didn't fall—he'd learned in the garbage pit that crying changed nothing. But the hollow ache in his chest threatened to swallow him whole.
With shaking fingers, he began gathering the scattered newspapers. Spreading them out on the floor, he forced himself to read carefully. If this was real—if Whitebeard truly was dead—he needed to understand why. Needed to know what had happened.
Morgans, worthy of his title as News Coo King, had documented everything anyone could want to know about Marineford. Anyone with basic reading comprehension could understand the story told in these pages.
Momonosuke pointed at headlines as he read, fingers trailing across newsprint that showed obvious signs of age. Three months had changed the paper's texture, yellowed the edges, given it that distinctive old-newspaper smell. Whether the content was true or false, the physical degradation was undeniable.
"It's all because of Fire Fist Ace..." Momonosuke whispered, absorbing the first major revelation. "The former Pirate King Roger had a son? Father never mentioned that. And Whitebeard adopted Roger's child as his own..."
The irony struck him like a blade. Kozuki Oden had served in both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Roger Pirates. If his father hadn't been so foolish—if he'd simply asked both legendary crews to help reclaim Wano Country together—the Kozuki family's tragedy might never have occurred.
But Father never asked for help. Father chose to face Kaido alone. Father chose to believe in honor and promises from a snake.
Momonosuke continued reading, each familiar name cutting deeper. Division commanders he'd known as a small child, before time travel had stolen eighteen years from his life. People who'd played with him on the Moby Dick's deck, who'd taught him sailor's knots and told him stories.
All dead. Most of them dead.
Every sentence Kozuki Momonosuke understood extinguished another small flame of hope. The dream of restoring his country was dying, word by word. The weight of information was crushing for a boy not yet ten years old—a burden that would have broken many adults.
Morgans' comprehensive coverage told the story from beginning to end with meticulous detail.
The catalyst: Marshall D. Teach, a traitor from the Whitebeard Pirates. A man known as Blackbeard who'd murdered his sworn brother Thatch—killed him in cold blood over a Devil Fruit.
Momonosuke remembered both names. Thatch had been the Fourth Division Commander, a skilled cook who'd made meals for the crew. Momonosuke had eaten Thatch's food many times during his childhood stay on the Moby Dick.
And Teach... Teach had seemed like a good person back then. Fat, dark-skinned, always laughing, apparently content with his position. No visible ambition. No hint of the monster lurking beneath the friendly facade.
People's hearts were hidden behind smiling masks. Everything had been fake. Teach had abandoned decades of brotherhood for a Devil Fruit, ambushing and killing Thatch before fleeing the Whitebeard Pirates.
Fratricide had never occurred in the Whitebeard Pirates before. Teach's betrayal was hated by gods and men alike. To eliminate this cursed traitor, Fire Fist Ace had volunteered to hunt Blackbeard through the first half of the Grand Line.
But the pursuit had ended in disaster.
In their battle, Fire Fist Ace was defeated by Blackbeard in direct combat. The Second Division Commander became his former crewmate's prisoner.
Then came Blackbeard's masterstroke of cruelty: he'd somehow learned Ace's true identity and sold that information to the World Government. Roger's posthumous son would be publicly executed, and Teach's reward for this explosive revelation was appointment as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
"Blackbeard joined the Warlords?" Law interjected, noticing where Momonosuke's reading had paused. "That position didn't last long. He had other plans."
Momonosuke barely registered the comment, already reading further.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku had decided to escalate the conflict deliberately. Public execution of the Pirate King's son would serve as bait—luring the Whitebeard Pirates into a trap prepared at Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
The Marine's highest combat power—three Admirals—had been deployed. Marineford itself was transformed into a killing ground. Sengoku wanted to devour the entire Whitebeard Pirates in a single battle, establishing the Marines' absolute dominance over the seas.
The plan was straightforward: use Ace as bait, ambush Whitebeard when he came to rescue his adopted son, and annihilate one of the Four Emperors' crews.
But execution had proved far more complicated than planning.
"Whitebeard knew it was a trap..." Momonosuke continued reading, voice barely audible. "He knew and came anyway. Because Ace was his son. Because family was more important than survival."
Just like Father. Father knew Kaido was stronger, knew the battle was unwinnable, but he sacrificed himself for his retainers anyway.
The parallel was painful. Both legendary figures—Kozuki Oden and Edward Newgate—had chosen honor and family over tactical retreat. Both had paid the ultimate price.
"But Whitebeard wasn't alone," Momonosuke's eyes widened as he reached the next section. "He brought an ally. Someone unexpected..."
Shiki the Golden Lion—a great pirate who'd been missing for years, presumed dead or retired—had led his Flying Pirates to join the battle. When Marines' elite forces were fully engaged with the Whitebeard Pirates, Shiki had struck, pushing the Battle of Marineford into its second, even more catastrophic phase.
The newspaper included dramatic photographs: Shiki standing before Marine Headquarters as it floated impossibly in the sky, his Fuwa Fuwa no Mi (Float-Float Fruit) having lifted the entire fortress. The Golden Lion's wild laughter was almost audible through the still image.
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