Chapter 2: The Check-In System, Ten-Year Reward

Words : 1127 Updated : Sep 15th, 2025

"This... this is amazing," Whitebeard said in surprise. "The Phoenix's flames are called 'Flame of Rebirth.' They can heal wounds, but don't rely on them too much. It loses its effect if overused, and it'll drain your body's potential life force. The more you use it, the faster you'll age," Roy explained. "Gurararara! What's the point of living too long? Dying while you're still strong is the best ending. Losing your mind and rotting away in bed? That's the real tragedy," Whitebeard laughed. Roy stared at him, dumbfounded, then suddenly understood. Yeah, who would want to live so long they became a senile old fool? A man like Whitebeard would never allow himself to waste away, reminiscing about the past in some sickbed. He'd want to go out in a blaze of glory. The Summit War was his grand finale—a glorious funeral prepared just for him. "I understand now. Thank you," Roy said, bowing to Whitebeard. Marco was already weak, and after using his power to heal Whitebeard, he was even more exhausted. Roy still had some energy, so he scavenged for food. The three of them feasted. "You two should just become my sons," Whitebeard said. "No way." "Really?" Two completely different responses. Marco was first shocked, then overjoyed. Roy, on the other hand, rejected without hesitation—he had never thought about being someone's son. "Why the hell not?!" Whitebeard mumbled through a mouthful of food. "I don't do the whole 'dad' thing," Roy said flatly. "But I want a family." "And that means forcing people to be your kids?" Roy raised an eyebrow. "You're both still brats. Perfect age for it." "I'm older than you." Roy deadpanned. "WHAT?!" x2 Whitebeard and Marco were stunned, jaws practically dropping to the floor as they stared at Roy. "I'm already over forty this year," Roy said. "Bullshit. Who the hell are you trying to fool?" Whitebeard scoffed. "Yeah, no way you're that old!" Marco shook his head. "I'm just like you guys, I ate a Devil Fruit, which is why I look like this. Otherwise, I'd have eaten the Phoenix Fruit myself—wouldn't have left it for you," Roy said. He was lying, of course. He didn't have any Devil Fruit ability at all. "Seriously?" Marco blinked. "Hah! So you're even older than me? No wonder you talk like some grumpy old man," Whitebeard annoyingly grumbled. Who would've thought Roy was older than him? "If you want a son, Little Pineapple Head suits you. I don't," Roy replied. "Doesn't matter. From now on, you're both my family," Whitebeard declared, leaving no room for argument. Whitebeard was 36 years old. Roy was actually 9. Marco was only 7. And so, a 36-year-old man and two kids under ten officially formed their pirate crew. The stolen marine warship drifted across the West Blue. They didn't have a destination. Whitebeard understood navigation well—he had sailed solo from a young age. Born in Sphinx, a town in the Grand Line, he had spent years ruling the New World. His sailing skills were solid. Eventually, Whitebeard and Marco dozed off, exhausted. The Flame of Rebirth still had an effect on Whitebeard—it had drained his potential life force. Just like how Luffy's Gear Second consumes his lifespan, Whitebeard, too, would have a shorter life. Although he replenished some energy with food, it wasn't enough to make up for his lost vitality. Fortunately, Roy was a traditional Chinese medicine doctor—tonics were his specialty. Since the other two were asleep, Roy naturally took the night watch. He could still hold out and just needed to align the ship with the compass direction. As long as they stayed on course, they would eventually find land. "Haah..." Roy yawned, sleepiness creeping in. He forced himself to stay awake, gripping the ship's wheel. The sea was cold and often foggy. It wasn't as glamorous as it looked. Most pirate ships were filthy, cramped, and reeked of sweat. Only the elite few had clean decks and fresh laundry. As Roy looked ahead, a sudden sound rang in his ears. [Ding! Sign-in successful! Congratulations, you survived one day and have earned one gold coin as a reward!] "What the heck?" Roy was startled. He thought he was hearing things, maybe dreaming. But then he felt something in his hand. He looked down at a shiny, golden coin. "This..." He bit it. It left a tooth mark. It was real gold. The coin weighed about 100 grams—nice and heavy. "Don't tell me I transmigrated into this world and brought a system like in those novels?" Roy thought. A golden finger—he actually had the legendary golden finger. "One coin per day just for surviving? Nothing else?" Roy asked aloud. [Sign in for ten years to receive a special reward!] "Ten years? That long? What do I get?" But no more voice came. Roy tried several times with no response. Studying the coin in his hand, Roy's sleepiness faded. The sky was beginning to brighten. Roy headed inside to wake Whitebeard. "Newgate! Newgate, wake up," Roy called several times, but Whitebeard didn't stir. 'Of course he's a heavy sleeper.' Still, Whitebeard had a habit—his vigilance remained high even when sleeping. Years of survival had honed his Observation Haki to react to threats unconsciously. Ace had tried to ambush him many times but never succeeded. Only when Whitebeard got older and his reaction time dulled did Squard finally succeed. At the time, Marco was shocked and realized just how old Whitebeard had become. Otherwise, there's no way he wouldn't have reacted. Roy found a marine sword and threw it at Whitebeard. As expected, Whitebeard sprang up instantly and smashed the sword into pieces with a punch. The resulting shockwave blasted a huge hole in the warship. "Roy! What are you doing?!" Whitebeard roared, furious. "You wouldn't wake up! Look at the time—either take the helm or make breakfast!" Roy shouted, recovering from the shock. Whitebeard realized Roy wasn't trying to kill him—he just couldn't wake him up any other way. "I'll take the helm." "I'll cook." They split duties. Roy prepared a huge pot of porridge. The warship had enough supplies, originally meant for hundreds, even thousands of marines. Even a week's worth of ration could last them a month. Why not a year? Because with a giant like Whitebeard at 666 cm tall, you can bet his appetite was no joke. Breakfast was ready, and Roy also woke Marco. Then he finally went to bed, leaving the two of them to take over.

Chapter 2: The Check-In System, Ten-Year Reward

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