Marco’s sudden offer nearly made Brûlée’s old back give out.
For a mont, she genuinely couldn’t process it.
With an expression of utter disbelief, she repeatedly questioned Marco in a tone dripping with skepticism.
But no matter how many tis she asked, Marco’s answer remained the sa:
Door-to-door service. Guaranteed personal attention. Full safety assured.
Marco was uncharacteristically patient, answering her without a hint of annoyance.
Eventually, after Marco’s relentless explanations, Brûlée finally accepted the news.
The Three Guarantees Policy.
A genuine Three Guarantees.
Was this man really the sa person who fought Katakuri to the death? Brûlée honestly couldn’t make sense of it.
Offering top-tier dical service right off the bat?
It was unbelievable.
But for them right now, this was an absolute godsend.
Only a complete idiot would refuse.
If you wanted to be healed, there was no way you’d turn this down.
Under such overwhelmingly favorable conditions, Brûlée, unsurprisingly, agreed.
She really couldn’t refuse.
Hanging up the call, Marco couldn’t stop grinning.
Hah! Another deal closed!
This makes three for Vir now! First Kaido, then Kid, and now Katakuri!
All solid fighters.
When that guy finds out, he’ll probably laugh his ass off.
Marco didn’t know why Vir was so obsessed with healing people, but he wasn’t the type to pry into others’ secrets.
Doing this stuff isn’t about making Vir owe him anything.
That guy’s done so much for the Whitebeard Pirates, Marco could be his errand boy for life and still not repay the debt.
No need to talk about gratitude.
Just imagining Vir’s ecstatic reaction when he got the news put Marco in a great mood.
Spotting Jozu nearby, bent over and busy with work—his massive rear end sticking out—Marco didn’t hesitate.
*WHAM!*
One kick sent Jozu flying.
"WHAT THE FU—!"
His distant, drifting yet spirited yell could still be heard.
Marco closed his eyes, savoring the mont.
Ahhh, that’s the stuff.
As the saying goes—at the very least, Marco’s happiness is built on others’ suffering!
Pumped up, Marco headed into the ship’s cabin.
The Moby Dick had already been mostly repaired.
The damage hadn’t been too severe, and now it was nearly restored to its original state.
Not long after, Marco erged from the cabin, dragging a figure with him.
The figure was... let’s just say, missing a few parts.
Marco hauled him out and quickly brought him before Whitebeard.
"Pops! What do we do with this guy?"
With Whitebeard’s survival confird—and the news of him personally crushing a few overambitious pirates spreading—all territories under the Whitebeard Pirates had quickly stabilized.
No one dared test their luck anymore.
Now, they finally had ti to deal with Teach.
Aside from settling scores with those who’d overstepped, they didn’t have much else to do.
The strong ones had already been handled by Whitebeard himself.
The weaker ones? His subordinate fleets were more than enough to make them regret their actions.
Whitebeard’s expression darkened as he looked at Teach’s groveling face.
This bastard was the cause of it all.
The Whitebeard Pirates had almost been wiped out because of him.
If not for Vir, Whitebeard had no doubt it would’ve happened.
No question.
Ace and he would’ve died. Many of his sons wouldn’t have survived.
And Thatch—gone forever, never to return.
Just looking at Teach brought back mories of Thatch’s proud, grinning face as he showed off his achievents.
But because of this man, all of that was gone.
Teach had to suffer the cruelest punishnt imaginable. Nothing less would suffice.
The crew had gathered around, but no one spoke.
They knew only Pops could make this decision.
Seeing Whitebeard’s expression, Teach imdiately adopted a kneeling posture mid-air, snot and tears streaming down his face.
"Pops! Pops! I was wrong! Please give another chance! Let make it up to you! Let stay as your son! I swear I’ve learned my lesson!"
His performance was Oscar-worthy—a natural-born actor.
So of the crew grew uneasy, worried Pops might soften out of sentintality.
But Whitebeard’s next words put their fears to rest.
Standing up, Whitebeard strode forward, gripping Teach’s throat and lifting him from Marco’s grasp.
"You are the only one unworthy of being my son, Teach. My ship has one iron rule—and you are the only one who broke it. You deserve death."
A white glow enveloped Whitebeard’s hand—the tremors of his Gura Gura no Mi power gathering.
The crew’s eyes widened as they took a step back.
Not out of fear of being hurt—just to avoid getting brain matter on their clothes.
But their frowns deepened.
Just killing him like this? Wouldn’t that be too rciful?
Teach, feeling the destructive power firsthand, panicked.
"Pops! You can’t kill ! I’m your son!"
Whitebeard’s icy expression didn’t waver.
Realizing there was no hope left, Teach dropped the act and started screaming.
"YOU USELESS OLD MAN! KILL THEN! I’LL FUCKING CURSE YOU! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOUR OWN SON WAS MURDERED UNDER YOUR NOSE! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!"
"IF IT WASN’T FOR THAT BASTARD VIR, YOU’D BE DEAD ALREADY! YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK SHIT NOW?!"
"SO WHAT IF I DIE? YOU THINK I’M SCARED? I’VE BEEN THROUGH HELL! DO IT! DO IT NOW OR YOU’RE MY GRANDSON!"
Spittle flew as Teach raged, his face twisted with madness.
He even spat at Whitebeard—only for the tremor power to fling it back into his own face.
Teach expected Whitebeard to strike imdiately—a quick, painless death.
Or at least lose his temper.
But he was wrong.
Instead of anger, Whitebeard smiled.
At first, it was a faint smirk.
Then it grew into full-blown laughter.
"Gurararara! Teach... you want to die?"
"Soon, you’ll learn that death is a luxury you won’t get. You’ll endure the cruelest torture—to atone for your sins!"
The color drained from Teach’s face.
He knew exactly what that ant.
The Whitebeard Pirates, anwhile, erupted in excitent.
They sward forward, each eager to volunteer.
"Pops! Let handle this bastard! I used to be a butcher—I know a hundred ways to make him beg for death! A HUNDRED!"
Jozu, having been fished out of the water, was the first to shout, holding up a finger.
But a foot promptly sent him flying.
"Pops, pick ! I know his body best—I can subject him to over three thousand tortures and keep him alive for the next guy! Let go first!"
Marco wasn’t about to be outdone.
But before he could finish—
"You’re stealing my shot, you bastard! Pops! I’m your man! I’m the toughest guy here! You know what I an!"
A massive crewmate headbutted Marco away, his eyes blazing.
Then chaos erupted.
"You’d actually do that?! You animal!"
"Pops, let roast him first!"
"Quit fighting over it! You lot never show up for work, but now you’re all here? Get lost!"
"You think you do more work? Take a break! Watch my crippling strike! Die!"
Order collapsed within seconds.
What started as a civilized debate turned into an all-out brawl.
No one backed down.
Brains were this close to splattering.
Jozu’s toes were lodged in Marco’s nostrils, while Marco was doing his best to turn Jozu’s groin into paste.
If not for Jozu’s Twinkle-Twinkle Fruit mastery, he’d have been singing soprano by now.
Teach’s face turned green.
He never expected this crew of seemingly normal guys to be this deranged!
If he fell into their hands, death would be a rcy!
No—he’d beg for death and still not get it!
Teach was terrified.
He started hurling insults at Whitebeard again, desperate to provoke a quick execution.
But this ti, his voice trembled.
Instead of anger, Whitebeard’s grin widened.
He’s panicking.
I know you’re in a hurry, but don’t be.
Whitebeard’s mood lightened at Teach’s breakdown.
Watching the crew’s harmonious scuffle, he almost didn’t want to interrupt.
But with the deck starting to crack, he had no choice.
"Enough! I’ve decided—I won’t torture him."
The crew froze.
Teach’s face lit up with hope.
Did the old man finally crack? Did my insults work?
He didn’t know what was going on, but as long as he escaped those psychos, he’d take it.
The crew, however, was baffled.
No torture?
Then what? Treat him like a guest?
Jozu was the first to voice his confusion.
"Pops! Don’t go soft now! We can’t let him off!"
The others nodded in agreent.
Then Whitebeard spoke again.
"I won’t torture him... because I’m giving him the best dical treatnt instead."
Silence.
Then—
The best treatnt?
The best doctor alive wasn’t hard to guess.
If Vir was second, no one dared claim first.
And if Pops ant for Vir to handle Teach’s treatnt...
Ohhhh.
The crew’s expressions shifted in unison.
A smile spread across their faces—the kind of smile only those who’d been through it could understand.
If it was Vir’s treatnt?
Perfect.
No objections here.
He was the master of true suffering—physical and ntal tornt rolled into one.
Compared to their amateur efforts?
Vir would make Teach regret being born.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, Pops!"
Marco was genuinely impressed.
Another patient for Vir.
A triple win!
"Vir’s already on his way. Everyone, behave this ti—no more of this ss!"
"Front-row seats now available! Only 30 million Beri! Pops guarantees authenticity! All proceeds go to Pops!"
While others were still nodding, Ace was already ten steps ahead, auctioning off seats.
"The hell?! We gotta pay to watch on our own ship? 30 million?! Ace, you’ve lost it!"
Jozu glared, but in the ti he’d been talking, over a dozen front-row tickets had already sold.
"ARE YOU ALL INSANE?! 30 MILLION?!"
Jozu gaped as crewmates sprinted to their quarters for cash.
"Idiot! Front-row seats to watch Teach get dismantled, hear his screams up close—isn’t that worth 30 million?!"
Marco, now a proud ticket-holder, smirked.
Jozu’s eyes widened.
...Okay, that does sound worth it.
But—
"Uh... Marco, buddy... mind sharing your seat? I can sit on your lap!"
Marco recoiled in horror, visions of Jozu’s past cross-dressing flashing in his mind.
He turned and ran.
"WAIT! Fine, I’LL be the chair! You can sit on !"
"HEY! I’LL EVEN BE YOUR DOG! DOGS ARE ALLOWED, RIGHT?! MARCO! CO BACK!"
Whitebeard chuckled at the chaos.
Teach, however, looked like a man who’d already seen his own grave.
As a forr victim of Vir’s treatnts, he knew exactly what awaited him.
If he had a choice, he’d pick that tough guy over letting Vir "treat" him!
The pain wasn’t just physical—it seared the soul.
The re thought made Teach shudder.
The psychological tornt alone—waiting for Vir to arrive—would be its own special hell.
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