The New World was a beast all its own.
Even for a man like Lupin — armed with knowledge of the future and the blood of a former Marine Commander running through his veins — the seas beyond the Grand Line were an unpredictable, violent realm. Storms that could capsize galleons in an instant. Islands that moved like beasts. And pirates… pirates who didn't give a damn about rules.
But for the first time since awakening in this new world, Lupin didn't feel alone.
He stood aboard the Moby Dick, the sea breeze carrying the scent of salt and battle. Around him, Whitebeard's pirates bustled with their usual reckless energy. Deckhands sparred for fun. Commanders shouted orders. Musicians strummed tunes no one knew the lyrics to.
And for the first time, Lupin belonged somewhere.
"Yo, Black Rose!" a deep voice called out.
Lupin turned as Thatch, ever-smiling and casually twirling one of his knives, approached. "You settling in alright? No one tossed you overboard yet, huh?"
"Not yet," Lupin smirked, adjusting the dark cloak draped over his shoulders.
"Good. Because Pops says it's time you earned your keep."
At that, Lupin's brow rose. "What kind of job?"
Before Thatch could answer, Marco descended from above in a burst of shimmering blue flames, landing beside them with a smooth, practiced ease. The First Division Commander regarded Lupin with that cool, unreadable expression of his.
"We've been watching you," Marco said. "Most rookies take a while to find their place here. But you… you've got good eyes. Good instincts. And you don't flinch."
Lupin kept his expression neutral, though the praise meant more than he'd admit.
"What's the assignment?"
"There's a pirate crew causing trouble on an island not far from here," Marco continued. "The Grey Vultures. They've been attacking villages under Pops' protection. Normally, we'd send a full squad. But this time… Pops wants to see what you're made of."
Thatch grinned. "You'll have backup nearby, don't worry. We ain't suicidal. But you'll lead the charge. Call it your initiation."
Lupin's lips twitched into a half-smile. "Sounds fun."
"One more thing," Marco added. "Don't hold back. Anyone messing with our territory answers to us. Kill or capture — your call."
Lupin gave a short nod. "Understood."
---
Later that night, Lupin found himself gathered around a roaring bonfire, the crew drinking and laughing, swapping old war stories. He sat near the edge, his pistol resting against his thigh, eyes scanning faces he'd once only known through manga panels.
There was Vista, laughing heartily as he bested another swordsman in an arm-wrestling match.
Jozu, munching on a slab of meat bigger than Lupin's torso.
Even Izo, with his sharp eyes and steady hand, sharing a drink with Marco.
And there was Whitebeard, towering above them all, sitting in his throne-like chair, a grin beneath that iconic mustache.
"You look like you're scheming something," a voice drawled beside him.
Lupin turned to find Haruta, the mischievous Division Commander, grinning up at him.
"Not scheming. Just… watching," Lupin replied.
"Good. Watching means you're smart. But around here, you'll need more than smarts. You'll need guts."
"I've got plenty of those."
Haruta chuckled. "We'll see tomorrow, Black Rose."
---
The next morning,
The island was a craggy thing — rocky cliffs, dense forests, and a small town nestled at its center.
The Grey Vultures were a cruel lot. Lupin's briefing said they were led by a man named Kargan Vulture, a pirate known for stringing up anyone who resisted him. Thirty men strong, all armed and seasoned.
But Lupin had faced worse.
He stood at the edge of the forest, his pistol glinting in the sunlight, the dark cloak billowing behind him.
A soft ding echoed in his mind as the system updated.
[Daily Quest Complete: Physical Training]
+5 Edit Points
He ignored it for now. There were more pressing matters.
"Move in." Lupin's voice was low, sharp.
A handful of Whitebeard's men, those assigned to assist, followed his lead. They moved like predators through the underbrush, closing in on the town.
From a vantage point atop a ridge, Lupin raised his pistol. His sniper's eye focused on a guard posted by the main gate.
One shot.
The man dropped without a sound.
The battle erupted seconds later.
Gunfire cracked. Blades clashed. Men shouted.
Lupin moved through the chaos like a shadow, every shot from his pistol finding its mark. When a Vulture pirate lunged at him with a scimitar, Lupin ducked low and drove a bullet through the man's throat.
The system pinged again.
[Combat Kill +100]
But he wasn't thinking about points now. Only survival.
By the time the sun began its descent, the Grey Vultures were no more. The town was safe, its people cautiously peering out from their homes as Whitebeard's banner was raised above the town square.
Lupin stood over Kargan Vulture's corpse, lowering his smoking pistol.
"Tell Pops it's done."
---
Back aboard the Moby Dick
Whitebeard laughed, the sound rumbling like thunder.
"You handled yourself well, Black Rose. I see why Thatch vouched for you."
The old man raised a massive cup. "To family!"
The crew roared their approval.
And just like that, Lupin knew — he was no longer an outsider.
Not a nameless pirate. Not a ghost of a man long dead.
He was Black Rose, a Whitebeard pirate.
And his real plans were only just beginning.