As the saying goes, flowers may bloom again, but youth never returns. Aging, the one threshold even the strongest cannot avoid, casts its shadow on everyone except for one man. Ayr, having mastered the power of the Op-Op Fruit, had performed the Immortality Operation on himself. With the sheer strength and control he possessed, he never needed to rely on others. Perhaps that's what made him even luckier than Whitebeard. While Whitebeard's time was clearly running out, Ayr had found a loophole in mortality.
Pushing aside thoughts of his own condition, Whitebeard quickly shifted focus. "Enough about me! Let's talk about you," he said, eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Why the hell do you look younger every time I see you, you bastard?"
Ayr saw no need to hide the truth. "Op-Op Fruit," he replied calmly.
Whitebeard's eyes widened, surprise flashing in them like lightning. "Don't tell me the rumors are true…"
"They are," Ayr said plainly. "I performed the ageless surgery on myself. From now on, I won't die not from age, anyway."
There was a momentary silence. Whitebeard looked stunned, then smiled with something between admiration and resignation. "Heh... That's still pretty damn good, Ayr."
"Want to use it yourself?" Ayr offered, his tone serious but not forceful.
Whitebeard blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting the question. After a moment's pause, he raised his head, took a deep swig of sake, then slammed the mug down with the weight of conviction. "No," he said with a proud grin. "I'm not afraid of death. Death… is just another adventure."
Ayr couldn't help but smile, genuinely moved by the old man's spirit. "Cheers," he said.
Their mugs clashed with a loud clink, and both drank heartily. As the warmth of sake filled the room, Ayr leaned back slightly and asked, "So, why did you come find me? It's not just for a drink, is it?"
Whitebeard slapped his forehead, laughing. "Ah, I almost forgot!" His tone shifted to something more heartfelt. "I've got two new sons I'd like you to meet. Come take a look?"
Ayr immediately understood the unspoken weight behind the request. Whitebeard knew he didn't have much time left. With his impending death, he foresaw the inevitable turbulence that would follow for the Whitebeard Pirates. By introducing his new 'sons' to Ayr, he was asking without words that someone strong watch over them.
"Of course," Ayr replied without hesitation.
Whitebeard beamed, pleased with the response. A moment later, the tavern doors opened again as he brought in two figures, followed by none other than the Whitebeard Pirates' ship doctor and commander of the First Division Marco the Phoenix.
Wearing his usual pineapple-shaped hair and a calm smile, Marco nodded respectfully. "Mr. Ayr! It's been a while."
Ayr chuckled lightly. "Still worried about your old man's drinking?"
Marco laughed sheepishly. "He really shouldn't be drinking, but you know how he is."
"Bah! Don't ruin my mood!" Whitebeard barked, shoving Marco aside playfully as he motioned the two younger men forward. "Now, come meet them. This here is the Second Division commander, Ace. And this one Second Division member Blackbeard! I mentioned them to you last time."
Standing before Ayr were two young men destined for a future that would change the world. Ace, proud and defiant, looked at Ayr with thinly veiled challenge in his eyes. In contrast, Blackbeard stood beside him, grinning with open admiration his eyes gleaming as though he were standing before a god.
"Gurarara!" Whitebeard's deep laughter filled the room again. "These two have good eyes! You'd better pay attention, boys the man in front of you is the one they call the strongest in the world… Ayr!"
Ayr didn't say anything, but deep down, he recognized it: fate had already begun to move. The pieces were in place. The endgame had started.