Michael hadn't been too worried at first.
At the very least, his nephews had a snail ship docked at the Marine branch.
Even if they went home only to find their entire country had packed up and moved, worst case they could just return to the Marine branch, and the branch Marines would ferry them back to Marine Headquarters.
But considering how each of those kids was more rebellious than the last, it wasn't certain they'd obediently return.
So Michael decided, at the last minute, to head for the North Blue and look for them.
And now, this was the situation he found himself in.
Hovering in midair as he looked down at the "Red-Haired," Michael's mouth twitched.
He didn't have much prejudice against pirates. In his eyes, there were three kinds of them.
The first kind was like Whitebeard, someone you could cooperate with. Or like BIG MOM, someone who actually ruled over a nation.
The second kind was like Kaido, pirates who existed solely to wreak havoc.
And Red-Haired Shanks—he belonged to the third category entirely.
As the culprit in the original story who led the protagonist Luffy onto the path of piracy, Michael instinctively wanted to give the guy a good kicking.
Damn it!
If this bastard tried to abduct his nephews, that would be a real laugh.
His sister would probably send this so-called "angel" straight to hell.
Imagining that cruel future, Michael shivered all over.
"Red-Haired Shanks, I may have had some dealings with Roger, but if you're stupid enough to abduct my nephews, I won't hesitate to burn you into ashes."
Michael's first words were a threat.
The ship, filled with laughter just moments ago, instantly fell silent.
The Red-Haired Pirates' officers raised their heads, looking up at the angel seated high above.
Cold sweat trickled from their temples.
A Marine Vice Admiral…
They had just entered the Grand Line, and they'd already run into someone like this?
But… just a Vice Admiral, daring to face the Red-Haired Pirates alone?
Ben Beckman exchanged a glance with Shanks, both showing a wry smile.
Their crew was united, their fighting spirit blazing…
But picking a fight with Michael now was no different from courting death.
So Shanks quickly waved his hand, signaling everyone to calm down.
Then he looked up and smiled.
"Vice Admiral Michael, is it? I've long heard your name from Rayleigh-san."
"Oh? You've met Rayleigh?" Michael raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering across his features. "So you're not the type to just charge headlong across the seas blindly, then."
Rayleigh was now the face of the Cross Guild, running such a massive organization. For Shanks to seek his guidance was only natural.
Shanks was not Luffy—he wasn't one to fight at the drop of a hat.
But his overwhelming strength often made readers forget that he was a man of both courage and wisdom.
"If one wants to rule the seas, the first requirement is to have power on par with Whitebeard… I do have confidence I can catch up to Whitebeard someday. But for now, I'm not there yet."
Though Shanks was lowering his stance, there was not a hint of false modesty in his words.
"Oh? So confident, are you?"
Michael's lips curved into a faint, playful smile.
The next moment, Myōjō appeared in his hand.
"This sword is one of the Supreme Grade Blades, the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades. Its name is 'Myōjō'… you've probably never heard that name. Before I altered its form, it was called 'Ace.'"
Shanks' expression froze, then grew solemn.
"Captain's sword… ended up in the Marines' hands?"
"Don't look at me with that face full of bitterness and hatred. This sword was Roger's payment to me, a reward for helping him fulfill his final wish." Michael gave Myōjō a casual swing, letting motes of Holy Light spill across the air. "Let this blade test you—whether the man who inherited Roger's straw hat truly has the qualification to contend against the world's greatest powers."
With that, a massive flying slash made of holy flames burst forth from his sword toward the Red-Haired Influence.
At its edge shimmered a trace of Armament Haki.
Faint…
But unimaginably sharp.
Shanks' eyes widened. This slash—this was a trial.
If he could take it, nothing would happen.
If he failed, both he and the ship would be cut down.
"You bastard uncle! Your kids are still on this ship!"
With a roar, "Griffon" was drawn.
Shanks leapt skyward, Armament Haki flooding his blade in an instant.
This strike was his all.
Griffon, swung by Shanks, met the overwhelming pure-white slash head-on.
In an instant, Shanks' coat shredded apart.
On his exposed arms and legs, veins burst from the strain.
"I've only just entered the Grand Line!"
"My own adventure is just beginning—how could it end here?!"
With a roar filled with both pain and defiance, an invisible wave of pressure erupted from Shanks' body.
Michael frowned instantly.
That sensation… Conqueror's Haki.
Strong, yes, but compared to Whitebeard earlier, it was still lacking.
And clearly, Shanks had not yet mastered the secret of Conqueror's infusion.
Which made sense—after all, in the original timeline, it was six years later that Shanks truly became one of the Four Emperors.
At twenty-one, he was still in his growth phase.
While Michael's thoughts flickered, Shanks crashed onto the deck in disarray. The flying slash he had cut down had already dissipated.
"Hmm. You're wounded, but you managed to withstand it."
Michael nodded. It seemed Shanks' current strength was already greater than Hawk Eyes'.
Griffon's grade was still uncertain, while Hawk Eyes wielded a Supreme Grade Blade.
The original story considered Hawk Eyes to have emperor-level strength, but compared to the true Four Emperors, he likely still fell short.
"Cough, cough! So… was that a test I just passed?"
"More or less. But look at yourself—you think you're ready to chase Whitebeard?" Michael landed on the deck, lips twitching. "First learn how to use Conqueror's infusion properly. Then hone the Divine Departure Roger taught you. Only then should you talk about catching up to Whitebeard."
"Thank you… for the lesson." Shanks sat on the deck, the ship's doctor rushing up to bandage him.
"But weren't you being reckless? Your kids are still on this ship…"
"You worried about them?"
"I'm not the kind of man who'd harm women, children, or the elderly…"
"Then your worry is unnecessary." Michael pointed toward the stern. "The moment we started clashing, they slipped away and boarded the snail ship trailing behind your vessel. My slash was never going to touch them."
"Eh!?"
The Red-Haired crew turned in shock, all looking toward the stern.
There, Reiju was helping her younger brothers climb back aboard the Red-Haired ship.
Noticing the stares, she unhesitatingly gave a thumbs-up with a radiant smile.
"When disaster strikes, everyone flies for themselves, right?"
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