Rumble...
The deep thunder of the ocean slowly faded into a low, distant hum.
The Moby Dick sailed across the roiling sea. Far in the distance, the once-standing island had been completely swallowed by the waves—erased from existence.
Such was the power of the "Strongest Man in the World," Whitebeard.
A full-powered strike from the Tremor-Tremor Fruit could summon tsunamis over a thousand ters tall. Small islands—like the one just destroyed—stood no chance against such a cataclysm.
On deck, chaos reigned.
"Get the dicine!!"
"Stop the bleeding!!"
"Bandage him—now!!"
...
As the ship's doctor, Marco frantically directed the crew while tending to Oden, who lay unconscious on the deck.
From his hands flowed his signature healing fla—the resurrecting blue fire—which enveloped Oden's battered body.
Internal trauma, massive blood loss, shattered ribs, fractured spine, blood pooling in his lungs, and a horrific open wound where his arm once was...
The more Marco examined the extent of Oden's injuries, the grimr his face beca. A cold sweat began to form on his brow.
That Marine's hand-to-hand combat had been ruthless—every blow rciless, calculated, and relentless. Once he'd found an opening, he had pursued it like a parasite gnawing at the bone.
Had Oden not possessed a body far stronger than most n, he would've died outright.
"How is he?"
Whitebeard approached. His usual overwhelming presence was tempered by the concern flickering in his eyes.
Marco's blue flas still burned as he worked. His voice was hoarse.
"He's out of imdiate danger. But Pops... that Marine's combat style..."
Whitebeard clenched his fists and sighed.
"That brat ca from the chaos of the North Blue. He clawed his way up from the bottom... a real lunatic."
"I used to wonder how soone like Byrnndi World could fall to a low-ranked Marine. But now I see—it wasn't luck."
He cast a glance at Oden's injuries.
"His technique bears the mark of proper Marine training. I can even see traces of Zephyr's teachings. But it's mixed with battlefield killing techniques... ruthless, vicious. And worst of all—he's turned his body into a cold, relentless weapon."
Even from afar, Whitebeard had watched the entire fight using his own eyes and Observation Haki.
A body soaked in blood, yet still grinning wildly... a man who sought the opponent's weakness in every life-or-death mont, fighting like a starving beast to the last drop of blood.
"That savage way of fighting... reminds of soone."
Marco paused, then asked instinctively:
"Who?"
A shadow passed through Whitebeard's eyes.
"Shiki."
The na chilled everyone around.
Shiki the Golden Lion.
A man who once roared like a lion across the seas, fighting alongside Whitebeard as an equal—a living legend.
A force nearly on par with Pops, wielding the Float-Float Fruit. His fleet of flying pirate ships had once been the most terrifying power in the seas.
And when Shiki went all out—he truly beca the lion of his na. Unrelenting. Unhinged. Even Whitebeard himself had struggled against him.
Whitebeard exhaled deeply, gazing down at the unconscious Oden, who muttered faintly in his sleep.
"Oden is strong. If we talk purely in terms of Haki, he may even surpass that Marine."
"But he's from Wano—a nation sealed from the world. His life until now has been too smooth. With his physical gifts and sword talent, he may have been 'invincible' in that closed land."
"But samurai of Wano specialize in swordsmanship—not hand-to-hand combat."
"That ans... he's never truly faced a real monster from the open seas, let alone one who excels in brutal, close-quarters combat."
"He lost... because he lacked battle experience."
"That Marine brat saw that weakness and struck."
At those words, many of the crew suddenly understood.
They recalled their first eting with Oden back at Wano's port.
His swordsmanship had let him hold his own against Whitebeard—for a mont.
But the instant Pops used raw hand-to-hand combat, Oden had been blasted a thousand ters away with a single punch.
"A brutal one, that Marine..."
Marco muttered darkly.
Even so, the fury burning in the crew's eyes had not dimd.
Oden was their comrade. Their family.
And no one—no matter how talented—would get away with hurting their own.
Just then, a white seabird swooped over the Moby Dick, dropping a sealed scroll onto the deck.
"Pops—latest intel,"
Vista of the Flower Swords said, picking it up and breaking the seal.
As a dominant force in the New World, the Whitebeard Pirates commanded vast territory and alliances—including dozens of affiliated pirate crews.
With that ca a sprawling, complex intelligence network.
Whenever major events shook the seas, intelligence would be delivered through secure, low-tech thods like this—since Den Den Mushi communications risked interception by the World Governnt.
"What is it?"
Whitebeard didn't even lift his head, eyes still fixed on Oden. He asked casually.
"P-Pops... it's about that Marine..."
Vista's voice cracked as he read. A chill ran down his spine.
The others looked up in surprise.
Vista's hands trembled as he held the scroll. His face grew pale.
"Eight days ago, Marine Commodore Rogers Darren was captured by Kaido during a mission involving Douglas Bullet."
"Seven days ago, the Marine HQ dispatched Sengoku, Garp, Zephyr, and Borsalino to execute a rescue operation in the New World."
"One day ago... Rogers Darren broke free from the Beasts Pirates' hidden stronghold. He destroyed most of their arms factories during his escape."
"On the sa day, the main Marine force arrived and clashed with the Beasts Pirates. Aside from Kaido, two of the All-Stars, and a handful of elites who managed to flee..."
Vista swallowed hard.
"...the rest of the Beasts Pirates—thousands of them—were completely wiped out."
Silence fell.
The Whitebeard Pirates were all struck with collective shock.
---
To be continued...
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