The bubble-coated ship drifted gently through the glassy surface of the ocean. Above them, the vast expanse of water stretched like a second sky, refracting light into eerie, shifting patterns that danced across the hull. Inside the transparent bubble, Lupin leaned against the railing, one gloved hand resting on the grip of his holstered pistol, the other clutching a length of rigging to steady himself.
The sea was vast. Endless. And utterly unforgiving to a Devil Fruit user like him.
His gaze stayed locked ahead, on the shimmering outline of Fish-Man Island in the distance — a massive, vibrant city trapped in its own air bubble deep beneath the surface. Lights flickered within it like the glow of distant stars, life and movement visible even from here. Most men would never see a sight like this. Not unless they braved the Grand Line and lived to tell about it.
Lupin swallowed, the familiar, bitter taste of unease rising in his throat.
I didn't come this far to drown like a fool.
Beside him, Thatch — Fourth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates — let out a hearty laugh.
"Heh! You're looking a little stiff there, Black Rose. Don't tell me a bit of water's got you rattled?"
Lupin shot him a sidelong glance, the lower half of his face hidden behind a black mask, strands of dark hair falling loose around his narrowed eyes.
"I'm a Devil Fruit user, Thatch. Drowning's not on my bucket list."
"Relax, would ya? These coating bubbles don't pop. Been running this route for years — haven't lost a man yet." Thatch clapped a heavy hand against Lupin's back. "Besides, you're worth 200 million. The Sea Kings'll choke on you."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth, hidden beneath the mask.
200 million Berri.
It had taken him a month to build that bounty. Carefully orchestrated incidents, run-ins with bounty hunters who thought him easy prey, and a few choice names erased from the seas. The rumors spread, his reputation crafted, his image fine-tuned.
Not a Marine commander. Not Rosinante.
A pirate. A sniper. A killer.
And soon, a member of the most feared pirate crew alive.
Fish-Man Island
The ship slipped gracefully into Fish-Man Island's vast docking chamber. Coral structures loomed around them, schools of strange sea creatures drifted lazily past, and the entire city glimmered in shades of blue and gold under its artificial sun.
Thatch's men disembarked for supplies and trade. The coating bubble would need to be reapplied before they made for the New World.
Lupin stepped down onto the docks, boots landing with a wet click on the stone. His sharp eyes tracked every face. He knew the stories — Fish-Man Island's history was drenched in blood and bitterness, its people hardened by oppression and pirates alike. Even under Whitebeard's flag, tensions simmered.
No one made a move toward him. But they noticed. The mask. The bounty. The cold edge in his gaze that spoke of violence earned, not bluffed.
Good. Let them look.
Later That Night
They sailed again. Through winding tunnels, beneath the crushing weight of the sea, until at last the ship broke the surface into the New World. The skies here were wild — clouds darker, the air thick with salt and something electric, like the air before a storm.
Lupin stood alone on deck, his pistol disassembled and gleaming on a cloth before him. Every muscle ached from the relentless cycle of system quests and training — body drills, agility, sharpshooting, reaction work. Not a day missed. Not a single excuse given.
He flexed his fingers, watching how steady they remained.
Faster. Stronger. Better.
The lookout's bell broke the quiet.
"Ship spotted! Whitebeard's flag!"
Lupin's head snapped up. He crossed the deck in three quick strides, heart hammering against his ribs.
There it was.
The Moby Dick.
A monstrous, white whale of a ship, dwarfing their coated vessel. Its weathered figurehead rode the waves with pride, and the great flag of the Whitebeard Pirates snapped in the wind — a symbol of sanctuary and menace alike.
Thatch grinned. "You ready, Black Rose?"
"Always."
"Remember — strength ain't everything with Pops' crew. It's about loyalty. Family. If you've got that, you've got a place here."
Lupin's gaze hardened.
Family… I lost mine once. I won't lose another.
The Moby Dick loomed closer. The air was heavier here, thick with salt and the scent of countless battles, the kind of place legends were made and reputations buried.
On deck, the Whitebeard Pirates waited — a fearsome, colorful array of men. Lupin recognized them from memory and rumor alike. Marco the Phoenix, calm and sharp-eyed. Jozu, built like a mountain of diamond. Vista, swords at his side, wearing a quiet grin.
And at their heart, a giant of a man slouched on an ornate chair, tubes coiling around his body, an unmistakable weight to his presence.
Edward Newgate. Whitebeard.
Even now — fifteen years before the world would tilt on its axis — he radiated power.
Thatch gestured. "C'mon. Time to meet Pops."
The gangplank lowered. Lupin crossed it without hesitation, every eye tracking his steps. Not hostility, but curiosity. Caution. He was an unknown. A 200-million bounty with no name among them.
They stopped before Whitebeard. The old man cracked one eye open, his gaze sharp and heavy as stone.
"So this is the one you dragged back, Thatch?"
"Yeah, Pops. Black Rose Lupin. A sniper. Sharp shot. Hard worker. Says he wants to join the family."
Whitebeard grunted, a low sound like shifting earth. "Two hundred million, huh? Not bad for a pup."
He lifted a hand, gesturing. "Let's hear you, boy."
Lupin stepped forward, pulling down his mask. His face was lean, sharp-featured, framed by dark hair, his eyes hard but unflinching.
"I've got no crew. No flag. I left everything behind. All I want is a place where my back's protected, where the people around me can be trusted."
A low ripple of murmurs ran through the gathered pirates.
Whitebeard's gaze narrowed. "You think you're worthy of being my son?"
Lupin didn't blink. "I'll prove it. Put me to the test. If I fail, toss me overboard."
A beat of silence.
Then — Whitebeard grinned. A wide, wild grin.
"Good. I like your spirit."
He raised a massive hand and brought it down onto Lupin's shoulder. The force nearly drove him to his knees.
"Welcome to the family, Black Rose!"
The crew roared their approval. Some laughed. Some clapped him on the back, rough but genuine.
Thatch leaned in with a smirk. "Told you it'd be fine."
And for the first time in years, Lupin let a real, unguarded smile pull at his lips.
Family, huh? Maybe this time… I won't lose it.
And under the storm-churned skies of the New World, Lupin — the Black Rose — became a pirate of Whitebeard's crew.