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Arthur's bounty was 500 million Belly.
But Whitebeard didn't think he was that strong. The bounty was inflated.
Unlike the inflated bounties of the future, every Belly in this era was earned through blood and violence.
And Arthur? He'd gained notoriety by eating the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, stealing the Heavenly Tribute, evading Garp, and escaping Impel Down.
Stealing the Heavenly Tribute? Any pirate with enough guts and speed could do it.
Evading Garp? That was due to the Rumble-Rumble Fruit's speed advantage.
And the Impel Down escape? Whitebeard suspected soone had helped him. No one broke out of that hellhole alone.
So, while he acknowledged Arthur's Devil Fruit made him dangerous, he didn't consider him a threat to his "Sons."
No one was stronger than his own family.
That was a parent's prerogative...
——
Arthur, having sunk Squard's ship, didn't leave imdiately. His own vessel, damaged in the collision, was unusable.
And the Log Poses—he hadn't stored them in his bracelet. They were on the ship, now lost at the bottom of the sea.
Navigating the New World without Log Poses—it was a fool's errand.
The Grand Line's weather patterns, magnetic fields, and unpredictable currents were treacherous, the New World even more so.
Chaotic magnetic fields, sudden storms, freak weather phenona, disappearing currents, massive whirlpools—every pirate crew venturing into the New World needed Log Poses and a skilled navigator.
Only lone wolves like Redfield and Mihawk dared to sail without them.
A Log Pose pointed in three directions, the steadiest needle indicating the safest route. Following that path minimized the risk.
But Arthur, always drawn to danger, would choose the most volatile route, his thirst for excitent mirroring Luffy's penchant for adventure.
Now, however, without a Log Pose, he had to rely on instinct, choosing a random direction.
His Observation Haki, encompassing a twenty-mile radius, combined with his ability to sense shifts in wind and weather patterns—and his flight—would allow him to avoid most dangers.
After a fruitless search for the lost Log Poses, he chose a direction and vanished in a flash of lightning.
——
An hour later, his Haki detected an island.
One of the New World's three starting islands.
"Risky Red Island…" He was disappointed it wasn't Raijin Island.
But finding land at all, without a Log Pose, was a stroke of luck.
Risky Red Island, despite its small size, was bustling, a mandatory stop for all pirates entering the New World.
Arthur, pulling a wide-brimd hat low over his eyes, surveyed the harbor. He spotted a Jolly Roger flying high above the island's central plaza.
A skull and crossbones, like most pirate flags, but with a distinctive, wavy mustache beneath the skull's grin.
"Is Risky Red under Roger's control now?" he wondered aloud.
The Roger Pirates, a dominant force in the New World, would naturally claim territory.
Shiki, his power waning after the Edd War, his territories seized by rivals, was no longer a major player.
The New World now belonged to Whitebeard and Roger. Shiki, his whereabouts unknown, had vanished from the news.
Big Mom and Kaido, while strong, lacked the influence and notoriety of the two dominant Emperors.
And Redfield, a lone wolf, content to roam the seas alone, had no interest in territory, his power enough to challenge even the Emperors.
This island, flying Roger's flag, was likely under his protection.
"Invading my territory, eh? That won't stand." Arthur's lips curled into a cold smile.
A man with his power could go anywhere he pleased. He could waltz into Marineford itself and walk out unhard. He understood that—But he wasn't one to let transgressions go unpunished.
Roger had claid Buggy had almost delayed the completion of the Thor. He had a score to settle.
"I'll deal with him later."
Arthur headed towards the town, eager to gather information.
Roger, unlike other Emperors, didn't restrict access to his territory. The island teed with pirates.
Arthur saw few locals, the streets filled with boisterous, celebrating pirates, their faces a mix of jovial camaraderie and hardened ruthlessness.
Now, in the New World, he felt no rush, no urgency. He had ti. The Great Pirate Era was just beginning. He would have plenty of opportunities for excitent, for chaos.
He strolled through the streets, eventually entering a bustling bar. Such places were perfect for gathering intel, overhearing snippets of gossip and rumors.
The noise and laughter within didn't pause as he entered. The pirates, most of them drunk, didn't even notice him.
Arthur, ignoring the revelry, ordered a large barrel of sake from the bartender, choosing a secluded table and settling down, his legs crossed, observing the boisterous crowd.
"Did you hear the news?" A drunken pirate, standing precariously on a table, yelled.
"What news? Did Captain Roger and Whitebeard finally throw down?" Another pirate, his deanor suggesting he was a mber of Roger's allied crews, asked lazily, lounging in his chair.
"Hahaha! Captain Roger would crush Whitebeard! Who's spreading those rumors about Whitebeard being the Strongest? What a joke!" another pirate scoffed.
The New World was filled with powerful figures—Roger, Redfield, Shiki.
The title of "Strongest Man in the World," if given to Whitebeard—would be hotly contested.
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