"Hey, Ace! You kept this from us for so long!" George complained, punching Ace lightly in the chest during the banquet.
Ace, holding a large piece of meat, asked, "Kept what from you for so long?"
George pointed at Rolan, who was chatting casually with Whitebeard, and said, "The fact that Rolan is your master."
Upon hearing this, Ace raised his head, pride mixed with amusement in his expression. "Who's his disciple? He's just a guy who likes to act cool."
Though his tone carried mock disdain, there was unmistakable gratitude in Ace's eyes. Deep down, he fully recognized Rolan as his master.
George observed Ace and smiled knowingly. Ace was clearly being stubborn. "Is that so? It must be quite an honor to be the disciple of someone so powerful."
Ace spat and waved his hand. "Honor my ass! He doesn't treat people like people at all!"
The memory flashed through Ace's mind. During their younger days, he and Luffy were constantly getting beaten or barely surviving Rolan's training. They couldn't match him, so they would vent their frustration on nearby pirates.
He remembered one time Rolan had said, "Are you two pigs? Don't you know how to adapt? If Haki can be wrapped around your hands, why can't you gather all your Haki in one place?"
Even after half a month, Ace and Luffy were barely able to apply it. When Rolan transformed into a Zaunite in anger and scolded them mercilessly, they naturally received another beating. Occasionally, they would encounter men like Krieg, the self-proclaimed strongest man in East Blue, to release their pent-up frustration. Krieg ended up flattened and barely recognizable after repeated encounters. Such events had become nearly daily occurrences.
Looking back, despite the bruises and hardships, those times were some of the most rewarding in Ace's life.
George chuckled. "You seem to miss it quite a bit, don't you?"
Ace's face flushed, embarrassed. "Baka, I didn't—" Before he could finish, he fell face-first into his plate of barbecue, letting out a snot bubble as he dozed off. Zzzzzz~
"You again!" George laughed, punching him lightly. If he didn't know Ace, he might have panicked. This was a common occurrence for Ace, who often fell asleep during meals at sea.
Rolan watched, a faint smile playing on his lips. Ace's antics reminded him of his time traveling with Luffy, when Ace had once terrified Buggy and his crew by suddenly passing out mid-meal. Over more than a year at sea, Rolan had grown used to it.
"Gurarararara, it's frightening, right? The first time I saw this was with Roger," Whitebeard said. That had been at the first joint banquet after their crews had clashed. Whitebeard had initially thought he had rattled Roger's composure, only to learn from Rayleigh that Roger often behaved that way.
Whitebeard chuckled again. "I didn't expect Ace to inherit this. Truly amazing."
Rolan raised an eyebrow. Pirate King Roger had suffered a terminal illness, yet Rolan wondered if this peculiar habit of eating and then instantly falling asleep could be linked. The manga did not clarify what illness Roger had. Rolan knew nothing of medicine, so he could only speculate.
Sensing Rolan's concern, Whitebeard asked, "Are you suspecting this is connected to Roger's illness?"
Rolan nodded openly.
Whitebeard took a sip of sake and reassured him, "I asked Marco. He found nothing abnormal in Ace. I suppose this must be a unique habit of their family."
Rolan nodded, relieved. Marco's skill as Whitebeard's ship doctor was comparable to Crocus, Roger's doctor, and if Marco found no issue, Ace was indeed fine. It seemed this really was just a familial quirk.
Not dwelling further, Rolan continued to clink glasses and drink with Whitebeard, enjoying the lively banquet.
Amid the crowd, Rolan's keen eyes noticed a busy figure. A rugged, stout middle-aged man, densely haired, moved gracefully among the guests, pouring drinks and serving dishes with meticulous care, like a diligent waiter.
"Captain Vista, here, let me pour you some sake," he said, carefully handling the glass.
"Hahahaha, Teach, you drink too. You don't need to pour for us. We can manage ourselves," Vista replied warmly.
This was none other than Marshall D. Teach, a member of the Second Division and a cunning schemer. Rolan studied him closely. Beneath his seemingly polite and helpful exterior, Teach was like a venomous snake, lying in wait to strike at the perfect moment. On the surface, he appeared kind and trustworthy, which helped him gain the crew's favor. His true ambition: acquiring the legendary Dark-Dark Fruit.
If there were a contest for the most enthusiastic member of the Whitebeard Pirates, Teach would undoubtedly lead.
"Zehahahaha, Captain Vista, I'll drink later. You enjoy yourselves first," Teach said, laughing heartily and revealing his missing teeth.
"Teach, you always think of others and neglect yourself. You should care about yourself too," said a man sitting opposite Vista, who had two swords hanging at his waist and a distinct pompadom hairstyle. Naturally, this was Thatch, Fourth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, the man who had subdued the Decalvan Brothers and discovered the Dark-Dark Fruit.
Teach had recognized the fruit immediately, having long studied the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia. This led to the infamous plot of Teach killing Thatch to claim the Dark-Dark Fruit. His acting was flawless. If Thatch had not discovered the fruit, likely no one aboard Whitebeard's ship would have realized Teach's ambition. Rolan, observing the situation, could only admire such a patient and deeply hidden strategist.
Whitebeard noticed Rolan's attentive gaze. "What? That's Marshall D. Teach. Don't be fooled by his appearance. Despite his scary look, he's the most enthusiastic of all my sons and the most liked by everyone."
Rolan sighed. "The more overly enthusiastic someone is, the more they hide."