March, 1468 — Sea Circle Calendar
New World — Sphinx Island
"Gurararara~~~"
"Argus!"
The laughter came first—loud, booming, unmistakable. Then the voice followed, crashing like a tidal wave over the quiet hills of Sphinx Island.
"I finally found you!"
He was a mountain of a man, over six meters tall. His long golden hair rippled in the wind, and the crescent-shaped white mustache across his face gleamed like a banner of war. Bare-chested beneath a sweeping coat and carrying a naginata slung casually over his shoulder, he stood like a storm given form.
Edward Newgate.
And he was grinning like a child who'd found a lost treasure.
Facing him was a much younger man—seventeen, maybe eighteen—— with a cleaner, sharper look. Where Newgate's strength was raw and unrefined, the youth's aura was poised and focused, like a blade waiting to be drawn.
Edward Argus.
Two men. One twenty. The other eighteen. Brothers—but not in the way the world assumed.
Argus looked up at the giant before him, watching the warmth radiate from that infamous grin. Even now, at just twenty, the man in front of him already felt like a force of nature. And in a few short years, the world would kneel before that power.
Argus let out a sharp breath.
"Tch… so it's true after all."
It wasn't a myth. Not some dying tale his parents whispered when the stars came out.
"Whitebeard… is actually my cousin?"
He smacked his lips, smiling dryly.
"What are the odds? In this godforsaken corner of the New World, on Sphinx of all places?"
Yes—Argus was a transmigrator.
Eighteen years ago, he'd awoken as an infant in this brutal world of pirates, monsters, and madness. Born again on a backwater island with nothing but a name and fading memories of a very different Earth.
His parents hadn't lasted long. He was three when they died. Since then, it had been survival of the fittest. No mercy. No miracles.
And yet… he'd always wondered. The shared surname. The whispers about some distant relative. But on Sphinx, the name Edward wasn't rare. It meant nothing. Not until now.
He had only just left the island, finally setting sail to start his journey—and before he could even make it off the coast…
His "cousin" came crashing back into his life.
Good grief.
Good damn grief.
"My cousin's gonna be the strongest man in the world?!"
Newgate burst into another round of laughter, apparently unfazed by Argus' stunned silence.
"Gurararara! Argus! Don't look so stiff! We're family now, yeah? From today on—no one lays a hand on you while I'm around!"
He thumped a fist against his chest with the force of thunder.
Argus couldn't help but smile faintly.
To doubt others was reasonable.
To doubt Edward Newgate's strength was just stupid.
This was a man who would survive the Rocks era, stand shoulder-to-shoulder with legends, and rise as one of the Four Emperors. His name alone would someday shake governments.
And the only thing that ever stopped him… was death itself.
"'Strongest Man in the World' wasn't some nickname," Argus thought.
"Anyone who doubts that has rocks for brains."
But the real surprise—the thing that threw him off—wasn't the strength.
It was the fact that this monster of a man was actually his family.
Newgate's smile softened. A rare quiet slipped into his voice.
"Argus… I finally found you. After all this time… I have family again."
"This means everything to me."
The smirk slipped from Argus' face.
Family.
A single word—but it hit like a weight dropped from the sky.
Even if Argus came from another world, the parents who raised him in this life had been kind. Gentle. He remembered their warmth, even now. Their deaths had left a scar he never fully healed from.
And as for Newgate… everyone knew his truth. His voyages weren't for treasure or fame.
They were for family.
Marineford didn't happen over gold or power. It began with a single wound to his son.
"Gurararara!" Newgate bellowed, shaking off the silence like water off a coat.
"No more brooding! Argus! We're not alone anymore! Pack your bags—we're setting sail!"
"Out there, we'll build something real!"
"…Brother," Argus interrupted.
Newgate blinked. "Huh?"
Argus shrugged.
"Calling you cousin just feels off. From now on—I'm calling you Brother. That cool with you?"
Newgate's grin widened.
"Hell yes it is."
But Argus' smile faded as he added,
"Brother… what does 'building a family' mean to you? How exactly do you plan to do that?"
Newgate scratched his head.
"We'll find people like us. Take 'em in. That's how you build family, isn't it?"
Argus stared for a long second. Then he rolled his eyes, hard.
"Seriously? That's your master plan?"
"Eh?! What's wrong with it?!"
"Brother—no offense—but do you know how cutthroat the seas are? You want to gather random people and hope they won't stab you in your sleep?"
Newgate paused. His brows knit. He wasn't dumb—just idealistic.
"…Fair point. These days, betrayal's damn near standard. Especially in the New World…"
Argus clapped his hands once.
"Exactly! So why not build it smart?"
Newgate's eyes narrowed.
"Go on then. What's your idea, little brother?"
Argus grinned like a fox with a plan.
"You want a real family? Then make one. Literally. Have kids. Raise your own sons and daughters. Bloodline loyalty. That's something you don't have to second-guess."
Newgate stared.
"…You mean—have a whole bunch of kids?"
"Exactly." Argus snapped his fingers. "Strays will always be strays. But your own blood? That's a legacy. That's loyalty you can count on."
Newgate blinked once.
Then twice.
And then—
"Gurararara~~~"
His laughter roared like a cannon blast.
"You've got a damn good point, kid!"