"Brother..."
Newgate glanced over. "Something bothering you?"
Argus rubbed his chin, eyes locked on the crown of the island. "I was starting to think this whole treasure map might be a hoax. Just some pirate's idea of a joke. But if Captain Ochoku's here too... then it's probably real."
Newgate's brows lifted—just for a second. Then—
"Gurararara!!"
He laughed like thunder cracking across the sea. "Now that makes sense! Well then—if there's something real to fight for, we'll just crush whoever gets in our way!"
With a flick of his wrist, his naginata—formidable, though not yet Murakumogiri, the Supreme Blade, it was formidable enough—sliced through the air, its edge gleaming under the tropical sun.
BOOM!
The atmosphere split as Newgate's Conqueror's Haki surged outward. Air distorted. Earth quaked. Trees bent.
And Ochoku didn't flinch.
From across the clearing, his own Conqueror's Haki burst forth—a surge of raw will that snarled like a wounded beast.
Two kings without crowns. Two monsters in their prime. They weren't legends yet.
But they would be.
As their Haki collided—
Not a single man fell.
Eighty pirates stood their ground, teeth clenched, eyes blazing. These were no rookies. These were killers, conquerors-in-training.
"Ochoku!" Newgate's voice boomed like war drums.
With a thunderous burst, he charged like a landslide, naginata roaring through the air.
Ochoku responded with eerie calm. He reached behind and drew a massive greatsword, rusted at the edges, like a cleaver forged in hell.
"Edward Newgate," he growled. "Don't mistake me for a stepping stone."
CRACK!!
Steel met steel.
The clash detonated like a bomb. Armament Haki flared, blades wreathed in black and deep purple. Shockwaves blew trees to splinters, the sky trembling under pressure.
And then—
The battle began.
"CHARGE!!!"
"KILL THEM ALL!!"
Both crews surged forward—tides of violence crashing together.
---
Argus didn't rush in. Hands in coat pockets, his stance was relaxed, unreadable.
"The ground's cracking," he muttered. "The terrain's collapsing under their pressure. No doubt about it."
He exhaled slowly.
"They're not Emperors yet. But they're getting close."
He wasn't wrong. Every exchange between Newgate and Ochoku tore the island's core. Fruit exploded. The terrain warped. The sky felt smaller.
---
Meanwhile, in the chaos—
Doma and Hiroshi were carving a bloody path.
"I'll flank the left!" Doma barked, blades flashing.
"Don't get cocky!" Hiroshi grinned, his spear tearing through an opponent's guard.
Three enemies lunged.
Doma ducked, pivoted, and slashed one across the belly, then elbowed another into Hiroshi's waiting spear.
SPLURT.
"Still soft," Hiroshi quipped, yanking his weapon free.
"Says the guy who cried when that goat stole his boot."
"ONE TIME."
They grinned like devils. They were faster. Sharper. Better than ever. This wasn't luck—it was hard-won experience. They'd been through the fire.
And now they were part of a crew that was shaping legends.
---
Argus remained still, watching.
"These are the kinds of men who'll shape the world," he murmured. "Not freaks like Luffy… but real monsters. Ambitious. Practical."
A roar interrupted him.
"YOU BASTARD! PAY ATTENTION!!"
A pirate lunged from behind, blade raised.
Argus didn't blink.
Swish.
He sidestepped. The blade slammed into the dirt.
"I never said I was on my brother's level," he muttered.
His leg blurred.
WHAM!!
A Haki-coated kick shattered ribs. The pirate flew into a tree.
More attackers surged.
"Lord Argus!"
"Are you alright?!"
"Fine," he said, brushing his coat. "What am I, a porcelain doll?"
Another pirate approached—Argus back-kicked him into the dirt.
CRASH.
"See?" he said dryly. "I can handle myself."
His men grinned and nodded.
"Yes, Lord Argus!"
"Then get back in formation—and win your fights!"
They saluted and returned to the fray.
Argus sighed.
He wasn't Marco. Not Katakuri. Not Jinbe.
But he wasn't weak.
He didn't need the spotlight.
He needed insight. Perspective. Understanding.
He needed to learn how empires were built.
And what he saw was this:
Newgate and Ochoku were monsters. But their crews were still forming. No first mates. No structure. No polish.
Only ambition.
Unlike Luffy's miracles, these men built power the old way—slow and brutal.
And Argus?
He wasn't born to be the protagonist.
But some men weren't made to chase crowns.
Some men were born to forge them.
---
(CHAPTER END)