One Piece: Surrounded at Marineford? Just kidding!

Joz smashed the lid of the largest barrel open with a punch, and amber-colored liquor splashed out, its rich aroma instantly filling the entire square.

"Gurrahrah!" The white-bearded man threw his head back and laughed, the sound of which shook the dome.

"Another bucket, please!" Lucky Roux of the Red-Haired Pirates shouted as he bit into a steak.

Without saying a word, Joz smashed the second bucket open with another punch.

A deafening roar of cheers erupted under the dome, and everyone's face was filled with elation. Emotions that had been suppressed all day were completely released at this moment.

Luffy emerged from the crowd like an eel, each hand clutching a piece of roasted meat thicker than his thigh, his mouth stuffed full, his cheeks bulging like two balloons.

He chewed frantically, waving indistinctly at Chen Ye on the platform: "Waaah! This is such a great place! So much meat! And the wine smells so good!"

Nami sighed helplessly, rubbing her forehead as she watched Luffy's greasy mouth. But an involuntary smile crept onto her lips as she picked up the fruit wine in front of her and took a sip.

"Luffy, eat slowly, don't choke," Usopp reminded him, panting, as he followed behind.

"I won't choke!" Luffy mumbled, stuffing another large piece of meat into his mouth.

Sanji's voice came from the kitchen: "The meat over there is ready! Anyone want some?"

Luffy instantly transformed into a blur and rushed towards the kitchen.

At the main table, the white-bearded man picked up a huge wine bowl that could hold half a person, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

"Gurgle gurgle!" he laughed, stroking his beard. "That's more like it!"

Shanks strode over, holding his wooden cup, and clashed it heavily with the white-bearded man's huge bowl, spilling the wine all over the floor.

"Old man, it's been a long time since I've had such a good drink!" Shanks laughed, tilting his head back and taking a big gulp.

"What did you call me?" The white-bearded man narrowed his eyes, but there was no anger in his tone.

"I said, senior." Shanks winked slyly.

"You brat." The white-bearded man slapped Shanks on the shoulder, almost knocking him over. "Back when you were still sniffling, I was already famous all over the world."

"That's all outdated," Shanks said, rubbing his shoulder and laughing nonchalantly. "It's the era of young people now."

The two looked at each other and burst into laughter at the same time.

In a corner of the square, Long sat in the shadows, holding a cup of sake, quietly watching the commotion before him.

His tense jawline finally relaxed, and a rare gentleness flashed deep in his eyes.

Sabo, holding a wine glass, came over and sat down next to Dragon.

"The seriously wounded are out of danger," Sabo reported in a low voice. "Marco said that as long as they rest well, there will be no aftereffects."

Long nodded slightly.

"No naval tracking signals have been detected on the perimeter," Sabo continued to report. "Beckman's men have occupied the high ground, and the perimeter is very tight."

"Stay vigilant," Long said in a deep voice. "Im won't let this go."

"I know," Sabo nodded. "Karas' Raven Squad is already patrolling the perimeter."

Dragon didn't speak again, his gaze sweeping over the noisy crowd before finally settling on Whitebeard and Shanks, who were drinking together not far away.

Just a few hours ago, this group of people were wary of each other and might even have become enemies.

Now, however, they are sitting together drinking and eating meat.

The dragon's lips curled slightly upward as he picked up his wine glass and drank it all in one gulp.

On the other side, Roger snatched the bottle of liquor from in front of Rocks and frowned in disgust.

"This liquor isn't strong enough," Roger complained loudly. "It's like drinking nothing at all."

Rocks, his face dark, grabbed Roger by the collar: "You nosy old man."

"I'm an old man?" Roger pointed to his nose, his face full of disbelief. "Have you forgotten how many years younger I am than you?"

"So what?" Locke scoffed. "My reputation at sea is far greater than yours."

"Bullshit!" Roger shoved Rocks' hand away. "If we're talking about a resounding reputation, who on the high seas is more famous than me, Roger?"

"That was before," Locke scoffed. "Now it's the new era."

"Why is the era that Lao Tzu created considered the past?" Roger asked, his eyes wide.

The two argued more and more fiercely, their voices growing louder and louder.

"I said!" Roger suddenly raised his voice, "Wasn't that strike on Satan Saint the coolest I've ever landed?"

"Your cut?" Rocks scoffed. "My cut was much more clean and efficient; it shredded his internal organs into a pulp."

"My strike was the key to victory!" The white-bearded man, who had somehow joined the argument, slammed his hand on the table, making his wine glass bounce. "My shockwave shattered him into pieces!"

"That's brute force," Roger said, scoffing. "My strike is precision; it severs all life in one stroke."

"My strike extinguished any chance of his recovery!" Rocks retorted defiantly.

"What are you three arguing about?" Shanks, holding a wine glass, leaned over and fanned the flames as if he didn't want the world to be in chaos. "If we're talking about cool, it's definitely my last sword strike. It was clean, crisp, and beautiful."

"You?" The white-bearded man glanced sideways at Shanks. "Your one strike ranked fifth, what's so great about that?"

"Fifth is the grand finale!" Shanks argued earnestly. "The grand finale is the most important, understand?"

"What do you know, you brat?" Rocks sneered.

"How are you calling me a brat?" Shanks retorted defiantly. "My Conqueror's Haki is second to none of yours."

"Young man, don't be so arrogant." The white-bearded man squinted.

"What kind of young man isn't hot-blooded?" Shanks retorted.

The four argued more and more fiercely, each one shouting louder than the last.

Roger pointed at Rocks' nose, claiming how mighty and powerful his slash was; Rocks grabbed Roger by the collar, emphasizing that his dark power was the true destroyer; Whitebeard smashed the table with one blow, insisting that the Tremor-Tremor Fruit was the best in the world; Shanks kept adding fuel to the fire, sowing discord.

"Your swordsmanship is poor."

"You're no good!"

"I think you've had too much to drink!"

"You're the one who's drunk!"

Four unparalleled powerhouses standing at the pinnacle of the world argued heatedly over the trivial topic of "who cut the chop the coolest," looking just like street thugs.

The pirates in the square were stunned by this scene.

Vista of the Whitebeard Pirates stared in disbelief at his captain: "The captain... he's arguing?"

"I've never seen the captain like this before." Marco rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Beckman of the Red-Haired Pirates exhaled a puff of smoke and shook his head helplessly: "Our captain is the same."

The Revolutionary Army soldiers looked at each other in disbelief. The legendary, ruthless Rocks was now grabbing the Pirate King Roger by the collar and hurling insults at him like a shrew.

Vegapunk stood not far away, watching these monsters, capable of destroying the world, argue over wine, meat, and merits in front of him, and felt a sense of unreality.

He rubbed his eyes and muttered to himself, "Am I still sleepy?"

Edison tugged at Vegapunk's sleeve and whispered, "Doctor, you're not mistaken. Those are Pirate King Roger, Rocks, Whitebeard, and Shanks."

"I know they are... but..." Vegapunk's mouth dropped open, "but they're arguing! Arguing about who cut down Satan the coolest!"

"What's so strange about that?" Edison asked matter-of-factly. "That's just their nature."

"This is absolutely not normal!" Vegapunk's voice trembled. "These people are monsters capable of destroying the world! The very beings the World Government fears most! Right now, they're arguing like cats and dogs over who gets the most meat!"

Edison shrugged. "You'll get used to it. That's how they are all the time."

Vegapunk took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

He turned to look at the center of the square, his gaze sweeping over the pirates who were frantically drinking, Luffy who was fighting tooth and nail for meat, and the four legendary figures who were drinking in a corner.

Is this the world he's willing to risk his life to protect?

It looks...not bad.

Vegapunk's lips curled up slightly, a smile appearing on his aged face.

He straightened his disheveled collar and strode towards the center of the square.

The surrounding pirates made way for him, watching as the great scientist walked toward the makeshift platform.

Vegapunk stood on the high platform and looked around.

He saw Luffy devouring a bucket of meat, Sanji bustling about in the kitchen, Nami and Robin sitting side by side, Zoro and Usopp fighting over the last glass of wine, Chopper weaving through the crowd treating patients, and Brook playing the violin as accompaniment.

He saw the burly men of the Whitebeard Pirates drinking heavily, the members of the Red-Haired Pirates with their arms around each other's shoulders, and the Revolutionary Army officers rarely showing smiles.

He saw Marco leaning against a pillar, clutching his injured arm; Beckman, usually silent, raising his glass; and even the ruthless devil Rocks, who was arguing with Roger, showed a hint of a smile.

He saw the dragon sitting in the corner, quietly watching everything, with a gentleness in his eyes that he had never seen before.

He saw Chen Ye standing at the highest point of the platform, looking down at everything. His expression remained indifferent, but the corners of his mouth seemed to be slightly upturned.

Vegapunk took a deep breath and reached out to take the glass of wine that Edison offered him.

He raised his glass high, his voice booming throughout the room:

"Everyone!"