The night on Beehive Island burned with passion.
Bonfires and strong liquor turned the atmosphere searingly hot.
The savory aroma of roasted meat clashed with the scent of rum, colliding wildly in the air.
The massive bonfire was like a small mountain of flame.
The harbor was illuminated so brightly that night ceased to exist.
The firelight cast distorted, dancing shadows across every face.
Pirates who had once stirred storms across the Great Line were now sprawled across the edges of tables.
Wooden mugs filled with spirits were raised time and again, only to be slammed down with heavy thuds.
Wild laughter.
Roaring shouts.
The dull thrum of liquor barrels colliding.
This primal wall of sound felt as if it could tear the heavens asunder.
Lucian sat at the center of this chaos.
He was seated at a giant table cobbled together from ship wreckage.
To the left of Rocks.
His white mask flickered in the firelight, blurring his features.
Facing the toasts of these maritime monsters, he refused none.
Rocks poured aggressively by the barrel.
Roger clinked glasses with a provocative intensity.
He downed every single one.
Liquor trickled down his jawline and soaked his collar, but he didn't care.
He possessed an aura that was simultaneously equal and powerful, never putting on airs despite his status.
This earned him a few more points of goodwill from this crowd of untamable monsters.
Even Golden Lion Shiki, who had been the most wary of him at the start, grunted in acknowledgment after a few rounds of drinks.
This guy's tolerance... he's a real man.
The atmosphere of the banquet grew more fervent, fueled by alcohol and testosterone.
Suddenly.
*Boom!*
A thunderous crash.
It exploded in everyone's ears.
The surrounding noise and the distant laughter all came to a sudden halt.
It was Rocks.
He had slammed the half-man-high liquor barrel in his hand heavily onto the table.
The thick oak surface groaned, and spiderweb cracks instantly raced across it.
Liquor splashed out, shimmering with an amber glow in the firelight.
The entire harbor fell silent in an instant.
Thousands of eyes were pinned to the center of the commotion.
The bravado in Rocks' eyes was gone.
The warmth of brotherly camaraderie had vanished.
In its place was a seriousness that made it difficult to breathe.
His gaze was like two red-hot branding irons, staring fixedly at Lucian.
"Brother."
He spoke, his voice deep, yet carrying more weight than the previous crash.
"Wearing this mask all the time... isn't that a bit much?"
These words caused the recently softened atmosphere to tighten once more.
Everyone could tell that Rocks wasn't joking.
Lucian's movement as he drank paused.
The glass stopped mid-air; no emotion could be read beneath the mask.
He didn't reply.
Rocks intensified his tone, every word landing like a hammer against the chests of those present.
"You have helped me, and you have saved me."
"We have fought side by side, and we have shared a table."
"This debt of gratitude, I, Rocks D. Xebec, acknowledge it."
"But."
His voice suddenly spiked, filled with an irresistible pressure.
"At the very least, let me, Rocks, see the face of my benefactor!"
The face of my benefactor.
He emphasized those words with extreme weight.
It was recognition, respect, and also a question and a plea.
Lucian's brief silence caused the area around the main banquet table to go dead quiet.
The only sound was the crackle of the burning bonfire.
The gazes of every core figure became like searchlights, all focused on him.
Roger put down a roasted leg of meat; a smile still hung on his face, but there was something more in his eyes.
Whitebeard's lips curled slightly downward, his hawk-like eyes unblinking.
Rayleigh, Gaban, Golden Lion, Kaido, Charlotte Linlin.
Every name was a legend capable of shaking the seas, and now they were all part of this silent judgment.
Just then, a signature laugh broke the deadlock.
"Gurararara!"
Whitebeard's laughter was like a great bell, making the cups and plates on the table buzz.
He slapped the table with his massive palm, joining in the agitation.
"Exactly! Rocks is right!"
"We're all dying of curiosity, kid!"
His words were the east wind, fueling the wave Rocks had raised.
"Yeah!"
Roger also grinned, revealing a row of white teeth, pointing his empty glass at Lucian with a tone full of provocation.
"Hiding your face isn't the mark of a real man! Could it be that you're too ugly to show yourself? Hahahaha!"
His laughter was unrestrained, pushing the pressure up another level.
Rayleigh and Scopper Gaban didn't speak, but both pushed up their glasses in unison, the curiosity in their eyes explaining everything.
Clearly, everyone around them was curious about Lucian's appearance; after all, a man that powerful was someone they wanted to remember vividly!
A wave of pressure born from the crowd's collective pleading surged toward Lucian from all directions, like an invisible tsunami.
It was a benevolent coercion.
It was also the final test of "candor" from one powerhouse to another.
Facing a gaze that could crush anyone, Lucian suddenly smiled.
The laugh was light, casual, and tinged with playfulness.
Like a gust of wind, it blew away the mountain-heavy atmosphere.
He elegantly set down his glass.
The bottom of the glass met the table with a crisp click.
He ignored Rocks' pressuring gaze and didn't look at Roger or Whitebeard.
He simply scanned the area.
His calm eyes swept over every face present, taking in all their curiosity, scrutiny, and examination.
Then, he spoke slowly. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached every ear clearly.
"Since..."
He intentionally elongated the word, dangling the suspense.
"Everyone is so curious."
"Then I shall..."
Everyone's hearts leaped into their throats.
Even their breathing grew shallow.
Rocks' massive frame leaned forward slightly, staring intently at Lucian's every move.
The smile vanished from Roger's face, replaced by an unprecedented level of focus.
Whitebeard held his breath, waiting for the secret to be revealed.
They all assumed Lucian would raise his hand and remove the mask.
But Lucian's action was something none of them expected.
He didn't use his hand to pull it off.
He simply raised his right hand casually.
That hand had once condensed energy capable of destroying islands, and had once pointed a finger to restore everyone to their peak strength.
Now, this hand was simply held in the air.
Under the frozen gaze of Rocks, Roger, Whitebeard, and every other legendary figure.
He snapped his fingers.
A single, crystal-clear snap.
*Snap.*
The sound wasn't loud.
Yet it echoed through the dead-silent harbor like a divine oracle.
In the next second.
The pure white mask on his face shattered upon the sound.
It didn't crack, nor did it turn to powder.
Instead, in an instant, it decomposed into a flurry of flying golden light particles.
Then, slowly and silently, it dissipated into the night and the firelight.
As the light faded.
Lucian's face was exposed, fully and for the first time, to everyone on Beehive Island in this era.
Time seemed to freeze.
The roaring bonfire seemed to go silent.
The churning sea waves seemed to solidify.
Rocks' abyss-like eyes saw his pupils contract violently; he had clearly witnessed the most unbelievable sight in the world. His massive body stiffened on the spot, motionless.
Roger's mouth remained open in that same arc, but the playfulness and scrutiny in his eyes were gone, replaced by pure, unspeakable shock.
The glass in Whitebeard's hand—that specially made glass—cracked with a *snap*, spiderwebbing instantly. Liquor leaked through the fissures, yet he didn't notice it at all.
Their expressions were like three statues turned to stone in an instant, frozen in that moment of revelation.