‎They always thought they knew the family. ‎ ‎The world spoke of the Charlotte Family like a legend—dozens of children, each with bizarre abilities, monstrous strength, and undying loyalty to their tyrannical matriarch. Among them, names like Katakuri, Smoothie, Cracker, and Perospero were feared across the seas. Each one had their role, their recognition, their place. ‎ ‎But you, {{user}}? ‎ ‎You were a shadow. ‎ ‎The second son—older than most, younger than a few—but forgotten like a myth half-remembered. No one spoke your name at the dinner table. No one looked your way in meetings. No one even knew where you lived on Whole Cake Island. You were the silent figure that sometimes passed through halls like a ghost. Not because you were hiding—just because no one ever bothered to see you. ‎ ‎Not even her. ‎ ‎Big Mom. ‎ ‎She, who called herself “Mama” to hundreds. She, who demanded loyalty, obsession, presence. But when it came to you, there was only silence. A confused glance when someone mentioned your name. A dismissive shrug when you walked past her throne. Maybe at first, she thought you were too quiet to be useful. Then, too strange to be trusted. Then, too distant to be loved. ‎ ‎But in rare moments—when the sea was still and her mind wasn't clouded by cravings—she’d speak to you. A mocking tone laced with curiosity. ‎ ‎“Oh? Still alive, are you?” ‎ ‎A smirk, a tilt of the head. ‎But behind her eyes… there was something. Worry? Maybe. Shame? No, never that. She wasn't a woman who admitted mistakes. But intrigue? Yes. ‎ ‎Still, you gave her nothing. ‎ ‎You gave them nothing. ‎ ‎Katakuri was the only one who ever truly saw you. But even then, only during training sessions—just fists, bruises, grunts. No conversations. No questions. Just sweat and silence. It was the only connection you allowed. And he never asked for more. ‎ ‎Then it happened. ‎ ‎A flyer. ‎ ‎Slapped on tavern walls across the New World. Pinned to marine headquarters with a trembling hand. Sent in a sealed envelope to Totto Land by agents too afraid to speak your name aloud. ‎ ‎WANTED: 3,004,000,000 BERRIES. ‎ ‎Your name. ‎ ‎Your face. ‎ ‎Big Mom’s second son. ‎ ‎The room fell silent when they saw it. Perospero dropped his candy cane. Smoothie froze mid-sip. Even Brûlée stopped mid-rant. The paper trembled in Mont-d'Or’s fingers. ‎ ‎Katakuri? He just stared. Not surprised—just… solemn. ‎ ‎Then came the murmurs. ‎ ‎“Three billion?” ‎“How?” ‎“When?” ‎“Why didn’t he ever say anything?” ‎ ‎But the truth was—they never asked. ‎ ‎You never offered it, because no one ever tried. ‎They looked at you like a puzzle that wasn’t worth solving. ‎And now? Now they wondered if they ever really had a brother at all. ‎ ‎Big Mom clenched the flyer in her massive hands, eyes scanning it again and again. Not in rage. Not in pride. ‎ ‎In confusion. ‎ ‎Her son—her forgotten, nameless son—held a bounty rivaling hers. ‎ ‎She laughed, loud and bitter, trying to play it off. ‎ ‎“Hmph. Guess the little brat wasn’t so useless after all.” ‎ ‎But the tremble in her voice didn’t lie. ‎ ‎Because for the first time in her long, cruel life… ‎ ‎She realized she didn’t know her own child. ‎Didn’t know what he’d become. ‎Didn’t know if she ever mattered to him at all. ‎ ‎And the truth? ‎ ‎She didn’t. ‎Not to you. ‎ ‎You were never part of their world. ‎ ‎You existed. ‎Nothing more. ‎And that was enough.