"So... that's how it is..."
Admiral Akainu slowly retracted his magma fist.
The molten rock dripped onto the ground, sizzling like bacon in a frying pan, but the killing intent radiating from his body didn't decrease.
If anything, it spiked.
He looked at Putin, then he looked at the distant figures of Luffy and Ace.
It was the classic "Trolley Problem" of Justice.
On one track, a weirdo selling soda.
On the other track, the son of the Pirate King and the son of the Revolutionary.
"Revolutionary scum... and the Pirate King's remnant..." Akainu growled, his voice sounding like gravel in a blender.
"Compared to that trash over there, you two are the cancer that must be erased first!"
His target instantly shifted.
Akainu spun around, his coat flaring dramatically, and charged toward Luffy's direction like a homing missile made of hate and lava.
Putin stood there, blinking rapidly.
He watched the Admiral's back retreat.
"I... I survived?"
He touched his face. Still solid. He checked his eyebrows.
Still singed, but attached.
"Just because Luffy and the others happened to rescue Ace at this exact micro-second, I didn't turn into a charcoal briquette?"
Putin subconsciously glanced at the merchandise on his stall.
He looked at the unsold cola, then at the direction of Straw Hat Luffy.
"Could it be... is this the legendary power of the 'Protagonist Halo'?" Putin whispered in awe. "It's so bright it even shields unrelated NPCs like me from AOE damage! Praise be to the Plot Armor!"
The situation on the battlefield changed in the blink of an eye.
The Marines' attention was completely drawn to the high-value targets.
Admiral Aokiji and Admiral Kizaru were mobilizing. The Vice Admirals were screaming orders.
Meanwhile, the Whitebeard Pirates' morale surged.
Seeing Ace free was like injecting them all with pure adrenaline.
They launched a fiercer, all-out assault to provide cover for the retreat.
"KILL THEM! PROTECT ACE!" "DON'T LET THEM TOUCH THE COMMANDERS!"
For a brief, miraculous moment, the corner where Putin was located became the forgotten eye of the storm. It was a bizarre pocket of eerie peace amidst the apocalypse.
Putin's knees finally gave out, and he collapsed onto his little canvas stool.
His hand was still clutching the open can of "Fat Happy Soda."
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
He downed more than half the bottle in one go.
The ice-cold, carbonated liquid slid down his throat, shocking his system.
The sugar hit his brain, and the bubbling sensation sharpened his muddled mind considerably.
"Ahhh... that hits the spot," he burped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
He sat there, a spectator with the best seat in the house.
He watched Marco kick a giant.
He watched Vista slice through cannonballs.
He watched the earth-shattering battle where legendary figures fought for their respective beliefs.
For the first time since arriving, the terror subsided just enough for the fanboy in him to wake up. He felt an unreal sense of witnessing history.
"The animation budget for this is insane," he muttered to himself. "The resolution is incredible. You can really see the pores on their faces."
Just then, the plot twist arrived.
"POPS!!"
A heart-wrenching scream tore through the noise of battle.
It didn't sound like a battle cry; it sounded like pure, unadulterated horror.
Putin froze mid-sip.
"Here it comes," he whispered. " The spoiler."
He followed the sound.
On the prow of the Moby Dick, the massive whale-shaped flagship, a tragedy was unfolding.
Squard, the Captain of the Spade Pirates and one of Whitebeard's allied captains, stood trembling. In his hands, he gripped a massive long sword.
The other end of that sword was buried deep in the chest of the "World's Strongest Man," Edward Newgate.
Whitebeard's towering frame shuddered violently.
Blood, dark and thick, poured from the wound.
He didn't attack back. He didn't rage.
He simply looked down in disbelief, first at the blade protruding from his chest, then at his tear-streaked "son."
"Squard... you..." Whitebeard rumbled, his voice filled with confusion rather than pain.
"I'm sorry... Pops!" Squard cried out, tears streaming down his face, mixing with snot and sweat.
"You know how much I hate Roger! You know the Roger Pirates killed my old crew! But you... you betrayed us!"
Squard's voice cracked, hysterical and desperate.
"You're trading the lives of our forty-three allied crews for Ace's life alone! You've already made a deal with Sengoku, haven't you?! To sell us out so the Whitebeard Pirates can escape?! ISN'T THAT RIGHT?!"
This sudden scene plunged the entire battlefield into another eerie standstill.
Even the wind seemed to stop blowing.
High on the execution platform, the Marines wore smiles of successful scheming.
"Now!"
Fleet Admiral Sengoku picked up his golden Den Den Mushi at the perfect moment.
His voice, amplified by the speakers, boomed across the entire island like the voice of judgment.
"SEE! SQUARD SPEAKS THE TRUTH! WHITEBEARD HAS SOLD YOU OUT!"
Sengoku's propaganda machine went into overdrive.
"HE MADE A DEAL WITH THE MARINES! WE WILL ALLOW THE WHITEBEARD PIRATES TO LEAVE, IN EXCHANGE FOR THE HEADS OF THE ALLIED CAPTAINS! YOU ARE ALL SACRIFICES!"
A lie, delivered at the most precise moment, became the deadliest poison.
The allied captains looked at each other.
Doubt spread like a virus. The Whitebeard Pirates' morale, which had been sky-high seconds ago, was thrown into chaos.
"Is it true?"
"Did Pops really sell us out?"
Putin watched from his stool, shaking his head.
"Dirty. So dirty. This is why I hated office politics."
This was the original plot.
A masterclass in psychological warfare orchestrated by Akainu, exploiting Squard's trauma to sow discord.
But witnessing this scene firsthand was far more shocking than reading it in the manga.
The raw emotion, the betrayal, the blood—it was heavy.
However, Putin knew what came next.
He saw that towering elderly powerhouse move. instead of raging over the betrayal, instead of crushing Squard's skull like a grape, Whitebeard dropped his weapon.
He opened his massive arms.
And he embraced the "son" who had just stabbed him through the chest.
"What a foolish son..." Whitebeard whispered, his deep, resonant voice cutting through the lies. "To be swayed by the enemy... But even so, I still love you."
"Pops...?" Squard froze.
"It is ridiculous to make children atone for the grudges of their fathers," Whitebeard said gently.
"Ace is Ace. You are you. And you are all my family."
Powerful. Forgiving. Gentle.
This was Whitebeard. This was the man who defined an era.
Putin felt a lump in his throat.
"Damn it," he sniffled. "I got dust in my eye. It's definitely dust, not tears."
He felt conflicted. He was a coward. He was a greedy merchant.
But he was also a human being!
"Since I'm already here... and since the plot is already a little messed up because of my noodles and soda..." Putin muttered, clenching his fists.
"Why not let the plot go off track a little more?"
[Ding!]
The cold system notification tone echoed in his mind, interrupting his emotional moment.
[Worldline Major Node Detected: Whitebeard's Betrayal and Choice.]
[Verifying Host Identity... [Marineford Outstanding Vendor] Confirmed.]
[Advanced Beginner Mission Triggered!]
[Mission Name: Tears of an Era.]
[Mission Objective: Successfully sell any product to the "World's Strongest Man," Edward Newgate.]
[Mission Difficulty: A+ Rank.]
[Rewards: System Points +10,000, Unlock Product Category—[Medical Supplies], Stall Level Upgraded to LV2 (Upgraded to Mobile Pushcart).]
[Penalty for Failure: Deduct 1,000,000 Berries from the host. If balance is insufficient, randomly confiscate existing host items (including internal organs).P.S. Just kidding about the organs. Maybe.]
Putin: "..."
He stared at the lines of cold text on the interface.
"Sell a product... to Whitebeard?"
He looked up at the elderly man in the distance.
The man with a blade in his chest.
The man surrounded by thousands of elite Marines. The man who was literally in the process of dying with dignity.
"Are you insane, System?!" Putin hissed. "This is not a sales environment! This is a tragedy!"
But then he saw the penalty. Deduct 1,000,000 Berries.
"NO! NOT MY MONEY!"
That was his entire net worth! That was his retirement fund! That was his air-conditioned safe house!
"Fine! I'll do it! I'd sell ice to Aokiji if it saves my money!"
Putin frantically opened his inventory.
What could he sell to a dying giant?
[Instant Noodles (Pickled Cabbage)]: Too salty. Bad for blood pressure.
[Fat Happy Soda]: Too much sugar. He's diabetic probably.
[Spicy Strips]: Effect: Slightly enhances Armament Haki purity.
Good, but maybe too spicy for a stomach wound.
Then, his eyes landed on a small, overlooked item in the corner of the inventory.
[Cute Cartoon Band-Aid x1]
Description: A sterile adhesive bandage with a puppy print.
Effect: Instantly stops bleeding on minor cuts. (P.S. Too bad it's so small).
"It's... it's pathetic," Putin mumbled. "But it's a medical supply. Technically."
Whitebeard was severely injured now.
His Haki was fading, his stamina failing. He was bleeding out.
"Maybe... I can pitch him a comprehensive trauma management plan? Starting with a sample?"
Putin gritted his teeth
He retrieved the "door-opener" from the system space—a single, tiny Band-Aid.
Then, he stood up and grabbed his [Miracle Small Folding Stool].
"System said sitting on this reduces presence. So if I put it on my head, does it work like a stealth helmet?"
It was a stupid theory, but he had no other choice.
He placed the blue canvas stool on his head like a ridiculous hat.
And then, Putin began his death sprint across the battlefield.
He wasn't fast. He ran with the grace of a constipated duck.
All around him, Marines and Pirates were fighting so fiercely their brains were splattering.
Bullets whizzed by. Swords clashed. But bizarrely... no one looked at him.
A Marine sniper aimed in his direction, frowned, and then aimed at a pirate behind him.
A pirate swung an axe, missed Putin by an inch, and didn't even acknowledge his existence.
"It works!" Putin gasped, panting as he scrambled over a pile of rubble. "The Stool of Invisibility is real! I am a ghost! I am a ninja!"
Finally, scrambling, stumbling, and nearly vomiting from exertion, he neared the bow of the Moby Dick.
Whitebeard stood right there.
Up close, the pressure was suffocating. He was like an unshakable mountain.
Even with a sword sticking out of his chest and his clothes soaked in blood, his kingly aura was heavy enough to crush a normal man's soul.
Marco, Jozu, Vista, and the other division commanders stood guard around Pops.
Their faces were twisted with grief and fury, vigilant against all approaching enemies.
"Pops!" Marco yelled, tears flowing freely. "Let's retreat quickly! The Doctors! We need the medical team! Your body..."
"Gurararara..."
Whitebeard let out a hearty laugh, cutting off Marco's panic.
Blood coughed up from his lips, but his smile remained.
"Don't talk nonsense, Marco. I am a remnant of the old era... there is no ship that can carry me to the new era! True family doesn't abandon anyone!"
He gripped his massive naginata, Murakumogiri.
The muscles on his arms bulged. He was preparing to launch a final, suicidal charge to buy time for his sons.
But suddenly, he paused.
His sharp, golden eyes lowered slightly.
He looked down at his feet.
There, standing amidst the chaos, was a small, trembling figure wearing a Marine grunt uniform.
He had a blue folding stool balanced precariously on his head.
He was looking up at the Giant with a complex expression mixing curiosity, fear, extreme capitalist greed, and fanaticism.
And he was holding something ridiculously small in his shaking hand.
The stealth effect broke the moment he entered the "Boss Zone."
Not just Whitebeard, but everyone around him—Marco, Jozu, Vista—noticed this strange person who had suddenly popped into existence.
"A Marine?!"
Jozu roared angrily.
His massive body, harder than steel, stepped forward.
His fist turned into diamond.
"You dare to approach Pops?! I'll crush you into dust!"
The killing intent hit Putin like a freight train.
"EEEEEEK!" Putin squealed.
"Wait, Jozu."
Whitebeard's voice wasn't loud, but it carried undeniable authority.
It stopped Jozu mid-step.
The World's Strongest Man looked down at the World's Most Nervous Salesman.
He narrowed his eyes, intrigued.
"Kid," Whitebeard rumbled, his voice vibrating in Putin's chest. "You are wearing a Marine uniform... but you have no killing intent. What are you doing here?"
Putin's throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert.
He felt like his heart was about to jump out of his throat and run away without him.
'Do it for the money. Do it for the mission. Do it for the Wifi.'
He slowly raised the tiny, puppy-print Band-Aid in his hand.
It looked like a speck of dust against Whitebeard's massive chest wound.
He mustered all the courage he had in his two lives, took a deep breath, and shouted a sales pitch that left the entire Whitebeard Pirates petrified with confusion.
"Um...Whi..... Whitebeard, sir..."
Putin's voice cracked.
"I see you have a... a small boo-boo."
He held up the strip.
"Would... would you like to buy a Band-Aid? It's... uh... it's waterproof!"