Chapter 294: Rocks Can Talk?
Whitebeard's feast dwarfed even the last one Tony Stark had thrown—bigger, grander, and packed with all kinds of things that made everyone's jaws drop.
Especially the dizzying array of food, drink, and delicacies most people had never so much as heard of, let alone seen.
The One Piece world's regional specialties, it had to be said, ran incredibly deep. Every island had its own culture and its own local delicacies, and once you pulled all of that together into one place, the sheer volume on display was staggering.
As one of the New World's Yonkō, gathering up specialties from all over was practically effortless for Whitebeard—a single word from him, and countless people would show up bearing gifts.
Not that he ever took anything for free, mind you. That wasn't his style at all—if he'd been the type to mooch off others, he wouldn't be Whitebeard.
The feast alone sprawled across an area roughly the size of two football fields, which made sense given how enormous some of the One Piece world's delicacies could get—things like charcoal-grilled Sea King, a creature dozens of meters long!
Granted, a Sea King "only" a few dozen meters long barely even qualified as large by New World standards—maybe medium-sized at best, and even that depended heavily on its girth, not just length. Otherwise it wouldn't even clear the medium bar.
Still, dozens of meters was plenty big enough. Grilling something that size in one go probably took someone who'd eaten the Flame-Flame Fruit—Ace, most likely, doing the honors himself.
Or maybe one of the other Whitebeard Pirates had some other fire- or heat-related Devil Fruit power. A Charcoal-Charcoal Fruit user, perhaps?
Sure, no such Devil Fruit existed in the original canon—but that didn't mean this One Piece world couldn't have one of its own.
"So this is what a Sea King looks like in the One Piece world? Looks basically like a tokusatsu kaiju. Genuinely feels like I've been dropped into an Ultraman show."
Umaru Doma stared in astonishment at the massive Sea King—though "massive Sea King" was, at this point, more accurately described as "massive dinner."
It gave off an incredibly tempting aroma, the kind that made you want to just walk up and take a bite right then and there.
Not that she'd actually do that. Just...a small, fleeting thought, that's all.
As if he'd caught her muttering to herself, Whitebeard chuckled and explained, "This particular kind of Sea King's a rare sight even in the Calm Belt. Not a protected species or anything, mind you—the only thing anyone in this world actually 'protects' is the Celestial Dragons."
"Charcoal-grilled, this Sea King's meat is genuinely one of the finest things you'll ever taste. Old me's been sailing the seas for decades now, and even I've only had it seven or eight times in my life. Counting today, that's still under ten times total."
Umaru nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, I see—no wonder it smells this good."
The New Year's Grand Carnival feast rolled along smoothly. Whitebeard had clearly put in serious preparation—no surprise, given how much experience he'd built up hosting previous group events by now.
He'd also gone and picked the brains of Tatsumaki and Tony Stark beforehand, both former event hosts, and had come away with plenty of useful pointers.
Meanwhile, Kizaru wandered around with a drink in hand, taking in the scene. He hadn't bothered wearing his Marine justice cape today—rushed out the door too fast to bother—so he was just in his usual yellow-striped suit.
"Yo? Captain Marco of the Whitebeard Pirates' First Division. I get that I'm a Marine Admiral and all, but you don't need to keep those eyes glued on me every second, do you? Fair warning, though—I'm not into guys."
Kizaru paused mid-stroll and added, a touch wearily, "Didn't your old man Whitebeard already say it himself? We're not enemies right now, and we won't be going forward either. So you sons of his really don't need to stay quite this on-edge."
Marco pressed his lips together, downed the rest of his drink in one go, let out a mild belch, and said flatly, "I don't know why a Marine Admiral would be on such familiar terms with Pops, but you and that Sengoku showing up here—aren't you worried the World Government's going to come after you for it? That's been bugging me this whole time."
"Tch. The World Government, huh. Now that's a genuinely terrifying behemoth, isn't it!"
Kizaru clicked his tongue, putting on an exaggerated show of expression, as if he found the World Government utterly terrifying—when in reality, deep down, he didn't think much of it at all.
Even before joining the Dimensional Chat Group, he'd never had any real fondness for the World Government. Honestly, none of the three Marine Admirals held the World Government in particularly high regard. Even Akainu, who'd go on to become Fleet Admiral himself down the line, had gotten into a shouting match with the Five Elders within days of taking the post.
Marco, missing that faint trace of contempt in Kizaru's tone entirely, nodded along with real conviction. "Much as I hate to admit it, that's just the reality of things. The scale of the World Government makes every power on the sea feel powerless by comparison."
"Marine Headquarters is just one branch under the World Government's thumb, and even just your one branch can go toe-to-toe with two Yonkō crews at once. It's hard to even imagine the kind of power the Celestial Dragons actually command."
Kizaru's expression turned a bit odd. "You're not trying to fish some useful intel out of me here, are you? Honestly, even old me doesn't know exactly what kind of power the Celestial Dragons hold. Ancient Weapons, maybe?"
"Eh, whatever—all you really need to know is that I'm not an enemy of the Whitebeard Pirates. If it weren't for the salary and bonuses, honestly, old me couldn't be bothered chasing pirates around at all. I'd rather just stay home watching TV, catching some anime."
With that, Kizaru wandered off toward another part of the feast—he still wasn't full, having only just worked through a dozen or so skewers.
Besides, it wasn't the Navy footing the bill this time—the Whitebeard Pirates were covering it. So why would he go out of his way to help Whitebeard save money?
And the food was already made anyway—letting it go to waste would be a genuine shame. Wasting food, after all, was a downright shameful thing to do.
Watching Kizaru's retreating back, Marco glanced around at the rest of the unfamiliar crowd and finally managed a faint, wry smile.
He genuinely had no idea where Pops had picked up so many bizarre and eccentric friends.
He'd even spotted a talking stone sphere at one point, which had nearly made his eyes bug clean out of his skull.
A perfectly round rock...that could talk?
Meow meow meow?
He was completely and utterly lost.
...
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