Whitebeard—Shocked to the Core

For Roya, guiding others in training was almost laughably easy.

That's because the Observation Haki Domain came with another powerful function:

It could automatically generate status cards for every person or object within its range, storing all their attributes directly in Roya's consciousness.

Take Squard, for example.

His character card was the perfect case study.

Despite having a measly 50 points in Armament Haki, both his Physical Combat and Weapon Mastery were at a solid 500 points each.

The real kicker?

His potential rating for both stats was the max value of 999.

In short—he had insane potential.

While his potential for the three Haki types was poor, if trained correctly, and his strengths pushed to the limit, he could easily become quasi-Emperor level.

That's why Roya hadn't refused Squard's request to become his "blade slave."

Even if the title sounded humble, a slave's strength still reflected on Roya's reputation.

If Squard was weak, it was Roya who'd look bad.

---

Of course, beyond giving him insight into people's attributes and conditions, the status cards had an even more important feature:

They offered personalized improvement strategies for each individual.

Squard's recommended fix?

Swap how he trained with his blades:

Practice speed with the heavy sword, and power with the light one.

Simple as that.

The Domain's analysis and guidance were never wrong.

---

Back on deck, the crew were still deep in thought.

Roya, seeing this, stood up and made his way toward his luxury Vice-Captain cabin.

Squard, still kneeling, didn't move until Roya was five meters away.

Then he scrambled to his feet and followed behind him with small, respectful steps—like a loyal retainer.

Once Roya entered, Squard stood guard silently at the door, posture firm and reverent.

He was about to dive deep into revising his sword training plans—

—when the light dimmed in front of him.

It was Whitebeard.

---

Squard instantly bowed low.

"Pops!"

Whitebeard patted his shoulder.

"Good choice. Keep it up."

Then he knocked on the cabin door—

and entered.

---

Inside, Roya was lounging comfortably on a sofa as Whitebeard hunched through the doorway, his massive frame almost comically large for the room.

Roya knew why he had come.

"He's here to ask me to fix his old injuries," Roya thought.

"Makes sense."

Seeing Roya's mysterious smile, Whitebeard felt a little uneasy.

Because honestly, up until now, he'd done nothing but give Roya responsibilities—

—without offering him any benefits in return.

He hadn't expected such amazing results from Roya's guidance of Squard.

But seeing it with his own eyes had finally convinced him:

"This guy might actually be able to fix me."

So, swallowing his pride, Whitebeard came to ask in person.

"What if he really can save me?"

---

Still hesitant, Whitebeard managed a sheepish grin:

"Vice-Captain… about my old injuries—

any chance you could take a look?"

---

Outside the cabin, a crowd had gathered.

Marco, Vista, Jozu, Izo, and most of the commanders were already there.

They had come to ask Roya for training guidance, but upon overhearing Whitebeard's request, their attention shifted entirely.

They all looked to Marco, the crew's lead doctor.

He nodded solemnly.

"Pops' condition is a result of years of internal and external injuries stacking up."

"Now that he's older, his body can't keep up with the demands of his massive frame."

"There's… no cure."

Then, realizing how hopeless that sounded, he quickly added:

"I mean, I couldn't cure him.

But Vice-Captain Roya… might be different."

---

Just then, inside the room—

Roya spoke:

"Old man, fixing your body… isn't that hard, actually."

---

Whitebeard's entire body jolted.

He tried to maintain a calm expression, but the slight trembling of his lips betrayed him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Whitebeard's heartbeat echoed through the cabin like drumbeats.

It was all Roya could hear.

The legendary man's powerful heart—seasoned in a hundred battles—was now hammering like a child's, fueled by hope.

He knew better than anyone how broken he was.

His body was a ruined fortress—

A mountain of wounds, hollowed by time.

Every treatment he had tried had failed.

His only wish had been to hold it together just long enough to help save Ace.

But now—

"Easily fixed?"

He said it could be fixed?

Not stalled. Not suppressed.

Solved.

Whitebeard's heart pounded harder.

His massive body leaned forward—

afraid to miss a single word.

---

Roya took one glance at Whitebeard's character card.

His Vitality had dropped to a dangerously low 300 points.

Then, checking the Observation Field's diagnosis and suggestion, Roya felt fully confident.

He continued:

"The root of your problem is simple—

Your max vitality is too low."

"On top of that, your body is just too large.

Just existing drains more than you can regenerate."

"That's why rest and recovery never improve your condition."

---

Whitebeard's eyes widened—he was stunned.

That was exactly the problem he had long suspected but never confirmed.

"He's not just spouting nonsense.

He's hit the nail on the head."

It was the first time in decades he felt real hope.

He stared at Roya, eyes burning.

---

Outside the room, the others had stopped breathing.

They leaned in closer to hear more.

---

Roya smiled calmly.

"Solving this requires two things:

Increase the source, and cut the drain."

Whitebeard blinked.

"The source… and the drain?"

Roya nodded.

"Correct. I mean real management of both.

Not like what you're doing now—

lying in bed pretending to be dead all day."

Whitebeard's face flushed red.

Outside, Marco's face turned bright crimson as well.

After all, the "pretending to be dead in bed" therapy plan had been his idea.

Being casually dismissed like that…

stung deeply.