The sun hung lazily in the sky above the Moby Dick, painting streaks of orange and gold over the rolling waves of the Grand Line. The Whitebeard Pirates were in high spirits that afternoon, gathered around barrels of sake, exchanging tales of battles and bounty hauls. Laughter echoed across the deck as men clashed tankards, the familiar scent of sea salt and old wood wrapping around them like a comforting cloak.
Among them sat Lupin, the notorious sniper known as Black Rose, his pistol holstered at his side. He leaned against the railing, a thoughtful look on his face as he brought up the system screen only he could see. It shimmered faintly in the air before him, listing his status, points, and inventory.
[Monthly Quest: Earn the Respect of Whitebeard Pirates' Division Commanders — Complete]
Reward: 1 Cration Point, 1 Mystery Chest.
He smirked, excitement bubbling in his chest. This was his first mystery chest since joining the crew. Part of him wanted to open it somewhere private, but the temptation was too strong. Making sure no one noticed the faint glow from the system, he tapped the icon.
A small, ethereal chest materialized in his hand for a split second before bursting open in a soft glow. Inside lay a revolver unlike any he'd seen before. A custom Smith & Wesson XVR 460 Magnum. The weapon was massive — perfect for a man close to three meters tall like himself. Its polished steel barrel gleamed in the light, adorned with intricate black rose engravings along the frame. The grip fit his hand like it was made for him.
[Item Obtained: Smith & Wesson XVR 460 Magnum (Custom)]
Lupin's eyes widened, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. This wasn't just any firearm — it was a masterpiece. Designed to channel devastating force and accuracy, it radiated craftsmanship.
[Note: Bullets not included. Exchange 1 Edit Point for 5 bullets.]
He checked his total — 560 Edit Points.
"Good," he muttered under his breath, exchanging 20 Edit Points for 100 bullets. A small stack of heavy, gleaming rounds appeared in his inventory, each one a promise of raw stopping power.
Pocketing the bullets discreetly, Lupin glanced around. Some of the crew had started to notice the unusual weapon in his hand.
"Oi, Lupin!" shouted Marco, the ever-laid-back First Division Commander, his pineapple-styled hair swaying with the breeze. "What the hell is that beauty?!"
The crew's attention shifted, conversations dying down as they turned toward Lupin.
Thinking fast, Lupin slipped the revolver into his holster, a smug grin playing on his face. "Family heirloom," he said with a casual shrug. "Been in my family for generations. Finally decided to carry it around."
A collective whistle rose from the gathered pirates.
"Damn, that thing looks like it could drop a Sea King in one shot," Vista commented, leaning in for a better look.
"How's it shoot?" asked Jozu, his massive arms crossed over his chest.
Lupin chuckled, drawing the weapon and giving it a lazy spin. The gun moved smoothly, perfectly balanced despite its size. "Like a dream," he said. "Lethal at any range."
Marco sauntered over, eyes gleaming with genuine admiration. He reached out, but Lupin instinctively tilted the revolver away.
"Sorry, Marco," Lupin said. "It's bad luck letting someone else handle a family piece."
"Fair enough," Marco grinned, hands raised in mock surrender. "Still, that's one hell of a gun, old man. I didn't think you had something like that hidden away."
Lupin shrugged again, enjoying the attention but careful to maintain his story. "I don't like to flaunt it."
Whitebeard himself, the towering captain of the crew, let out a booming laugh from his chair. "Gurararara! A fine weapon for one of my sons. Keep it close, boy. A good weapon's like a good friend — reliable when you need it most."
Lupin grinned, raising the revolver in a casual salute before holstering it again.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with questions and challenges, many of the crew eager to see it in action. Lupin obliged with a few target shots over the side of the ship, sending splashes into the ocean as bullets tore through the waves with frightening power.
Each shot echoed like thunder, and each time, the crew roared in approval.
"Damn, you weren't kidding!" Fossa barked, clapping Lupin on the back. "That thing could punch through a ship's hull."
"It's nothing without a steady hand," Lupin replied, playing the modest card.
Later, as the crew settled back into their usual rhythm, Lupin found a quiet corner to manage his system. He exchanged another 10 Edit Points for 50 more bullets, tucking them safely away. The last thing he wanted was to run out at a critical moment.
He couldn't help but smirk. The revolver, the system, the Edit Points — it was all a part of the strange second chance life had thrown him, and he intended to make the most of it.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in purples and reds, Marco strolled over with a fresh drink.
"Seriously, Lupin, I'm jealous. That gun's too damn cool," he said, offering the cup.
Lupin took it with a grin. "You've got that phoenix thing going for you. I think you'll be fine without a six-shooter."
"True enough," Marco laughed.
They clinked their cups together and drank, the warm burn of sake a perfect end to the day's excitement.
As night fell over the Moby Dick, Lupin leaned against the rail, revolver at his hip, eyes scanning the horizon. He didn't know what lay ahead, but with his weapon, his wits, and his place among Whitebeard's sons, he was ready for anything.