Within the dense forest, Marco and Lucian moved silently beneath the shadows of the massive tree canopy.
They had suppressed their presence to the absolute limit—light as falling leaves, without making the slightest sound.
Their target was the figure sitting alone at the edge of the cliff, drinking from a jug.
Peak Silvers Rayleigh.
They were getting closer—100 meters, 50 meters, 30…
They could already smell the heavy aroma of alcohol in the air.
Everything was going perfectly.
But just as they were about to get within range for a potential surprise strike—
The figure who had been sitting still the entire time, back turned to them, suddenly set his jug down.
A calm, crystal-clear voice, as if unbound by space itself, echoed directly in Lucian and Marco's ears.
"Travelers from the future—no need to skulk in the shadows."
"Since you're here, why not come share a drink?"
As he spoke, the man casually raised one arm and gestured toward the empty space beside him with a simple wave.
…!!!
Lucian and Marco froze in place.
They were both stunned.
'How did he notice us?!'
They had been as cautious as possible—utterly silent and concealed.
'How… did he find us?'
More than that—it seemed like he already knew who they were, and where they had come from!
Lucian's pupils contracted sharply as his mind raced.
'Impossible!'
'Even an Admiral wouldn't have sensed us from this far away if we concealed our presence to this extent!'
'How did he do it?!'
Now that they'd been exposed, there was no point in hiding anymore.
Lucian and Marco exchanged a glance—and in it, a mutual gravity.
No longer concealing themselves, the two of them stepped openly out from the shadows of the forest.
By the cliff's edge, the man finally turned around slowly.
Golden hair, round glasses, and a gentle-looking face.
But the moment his eyes met Lucian's, it felt like a sword had pierced directly into his forehead.
That gaze—serene and deep—was like a blade that could cut through every secret in the world.
"Mr. Rayleigh," Lucian said, drawing a deep breath to dispel the tension, breaking the silence.
"How did you know we were here?"
Rayleigh lifted the jug, took a heavy swig, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You forgot?"
His voice carried a light chuckle.
"I'm a top-tier Observation Haki user, remember?"
Top-tier Observation Haki.
Hearing those words, Marco's face changed. He instantly thought of a certain terrifying possibility.
Lucian, too, was shaken.
"You mean… you foresaw us?"
"More or less."
Rayleigh swirled the jug casually, speaking as if he were commenting on the weather.
"A few minutes ago, I 'saw' the two of you showing up here."
"So I decided to wait."
BOOM!!!
Hearing that, both of them immediately understood—Rayleigh had truly glimpsed the future.
He had used Observation Haki to clearly foresee something that would happen minutes later!
'How far has he pushed Observation Haki?!'
'Even Katakuri in the future couldn't do this so clearly, could he?!'
They were both utterly stunned.
But just as that heavy, awe-struck silence set in, Marco suddenly let out a bitter smile.
He strode right up to Rayleigh and, without hesitation, plopped down next to him, snatched the jug from his hand, and started chugging it without ceremony.
"Ahhh—!"
A mouthful of strong liquor went down. Marco let out a long sigh and wiped his mouth.
"Mr. Rayleigh, it's been a long time."
The sudden shift caught Lucian completely off guard.
But Rayleigh? He looked at his stolen jug… and laughed heartily.
"Marco, kid—you haven't changed one bit."
He looked Marco up and down, his eyes glinting with a mix of nostalgia and inspection.
"Though, I must say… you've aged."
"Gotten older—but also stronger."
Rayleigh nodded, his tone carrying a hint of approval.
"I can tell. You've come a long way since that brat I used to flick away with a finger."
"But looking at you now… these past years probably haven't been so easy, huh?"
A wry expression crossed Marco's face.
"You flatter me, Mr. Rayleigh."
He handed the jug back.
"Compared to you, I've still got a long way to go."
"We from the Whitebeard Pirates… we were protected too well by Pops. Life was too easy for too long. And when that happens, training slips."
Marco's tone was half self-deprecating, half quietly proud.
Rayleigh took the jug and drank again, eyes growing distant.
"Hah… that was always Newgate's way, wasn't it?"
His voice lowered, drifting into memory.
"Not for fame. Not for power. Just for the word 'family.'"
"That guy's always been like that."
For a while, atop that cliff—two legends from different generations, different crews—sat side by side, drinking and reminiscing.
The atmosphere between them… was surprisingly peaceful.
They spoke freely, like old friends who hadn't met in years.
And yet, both of them—unspoken, uncoordinated—carefully avoided mentioning that topic.
Rayleigh never asked about the fate of the Roger Pirates in the future.
Marco never brought up Roger's final end.
Some futures… need not be revealed early.
Some outcomes… must be lived through in person.
They both understood that well.
And before long, their conversation flowed so naturally—
That they both seemed to forget…
Lucian was still standing right there.