In the Navy's grand fleet, Sengoku's face was a storm. No one in the command room dared to speak; the officers kept their heads bowed, the silence as heavy as lead.
The reports had just come in; two warships lost contact, their Vice Admirals' vivre cards burning out until they were gone. Dead. And with them six thousand Marines vanished into the sea.
"Janson and Rona, both gone… in fifteen minutes." Sengoku's jaw clenched as his fist slammed down on the table, the wood splintering under his palm.
"Calm yourself, Sengoku," Vice Admiral Tsuru's steady voice cut through the tension. Her own face was drawn tight, but her composure never wavered. "The more critical the moment, the calmer we must be."
Sengoku sucked in a long breath, his chest rising as he forced the rage down. Still, his face burned red. "Three Vice Admirals. Ten thousand men. And they lasted twenty minutes before they were slaughtered. Did Whitebeard himself strike? Or did the entire Whitebeard Pirates move at once?"
It was the Navy's heaviest single loss in over a decade and they hadn't even delayed the enemy. It was as if they'd tossed meat straight into the pirates' jaws.
"No matter what, our plan has been exposed," Tsuru said, her voice carrying a weary certainty. "Whitebeard knew what we were coming. Someone leaked it. The only question now is: do we still pursue? Facing a prepared Whitebeard Pirates, getting close may not even be possible."
Only she could speak to Sengoku like this.
"Attack," Sengoku growled, his voice sharp with decision. "We must. If we withdraw now, after all this fanfare and all these losses, the Navy will become a laughingstock."
But even in his fury, he showed his steel. "Order the remaining warships to fall back to G-1 Branch. If they linger, Whitebeard will only swat them down like flies."
Tsuru nodded in approval. That was the Sengoku she knew, the warrior who could temper his anger with cold reason. "I'll relay your orders to headquarters."
At Marine HQ, Fleet Admiral Kong listened to the message with a grim face. This operation had been his plan, and the loss of three warships was his burden to bear. He forced his rage down, his voice like iron,
"Tell Sengoku, headquarters approves. The Navy's power must be shown. And investigate everyone who knew of this operation. Someone in our ranks has betrayed us."
Kong never imagined the leak had not come from betrayal, but from Teach, lurking in the shadows, listening with Observation Haki sharp enough to pierce walls.
"Hsss—gentler!" Teach hissed as the sting of alcohol seared into his wound. The pain was raw, but his grin was crooked, almost exhilarated.
The ship's doctor worked fast, stitching the flesh with practiced ease, smearing on ointments that stank of herbs and chemicals. In this world, medicine was brutal and efficient built by necessity, in a sea where men bled every day. With his monstrous vitality and their potent salves, the wound scabbed in minutes.
By the time Teach stepped outside, bandaged tight, the ache was little more than a dull fire in his side. It wouldn't slow him down.
And he arrived just in time.
On the horizon, a massive warship approached, its black silhouette looming against the waves.
"Only one?" one of Whitebeard's sons muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Looks like the rest turned tail. They know Pops's strength."
The single warship drifted closer until it came within a hundred meters.
"Gurararara!" Whitebeard's laughter rolled like thunder. Standing at the bow of the Moby Dick, his bisento Murakumogiri gleaming in hand, he bellowed across the waves. "Sengoku! It's been too long. I've been waiting for you."
"Hmph." Sengoku didn't waste words. The two legends locked eyes, the air itself heavy between them. Then, in a blink, their wills clashed.
Conqueror's Haki burst outward.
Boom!
Arcs of black lightning split the air.
The sea heaved, waves surging like mountains, as sky and ocean tore apart in invisible force. For a moment, it was as if the world itself split into two realms.
Teach gripped the railing, his teeth gritted against the weight of their aura. Compared to these giants, his Haki was a flickering candle. Yet his eyes blazed. One day, he swore, he would not only stand among them, he would surpass them.
The clash dragged on, seconds stretching like centuries. Marines and pirates alike staggered under the invisible pressure. And then, as if by silent agreement, both pulled back.
Sengoku's body swelled, cloaked in golden light as he transformed into a towering Buddha, radiating might.
Whitebeard set aside his bisento, raising a massive fist. Around it shimmered the white halo of his Tremor-Tremor Fruit, the power to quake the very world.
"Buddha's Impact!"
"Quake!"
Their shouts collided with their powers.
The world went white.
The shockwaves tore into the sea, blasting open a void a hundred meters wide. The Moby Dick shuddered violently, crew clutching to the deck as if the ocean itself would swallow them whole.
"Gurarara!" Whitebeard laughed again, stomping down and unleashing another quake. "That's enough for now, brats. We're pulling back!"
At his command, the crew scrambled to their posts. The Moby Dick wheeled away, retreating into the distance.
"Don't think you'll escape me so easily!" Sengoku roared, unleashing another Buddha's Impact that smashed apart Whitebeard's quake. The sea heaved, a towering tsunami rising a hundred meters high and crashing toward the warship.
The Marines froze, staring up at the wall of water blotting out the sun.
"A tsunami…!"
"Are we going to die here?!"
"Stand firm!" Tsuru barked. "We have Sengoku!"
Without flinching, the Buddha raised his palm. "Buddha's Impact!"
The shockwave split the tsunami clean in two, a vast hole opening through the wall of water as it thundered past harmlessly.
"We're saved!" the Marines cried.
"Full speed ahead!" Sengoku bellowed. "Don't let them get away!"
But the Moby Dick was already vanishing into the horizon.
For three days, Sengoku's warship chased Whitebeard across the seas, trading blows without end. The New World was already ablaze with whispers. Word spread fast; the Navy's ambush had failed. Three Vice Admirals and their fleets had been destroyed before Sengoku even arrived.
Fleet Admiral Kong raged, purging spies from within. But the damage was done. The Navy's prestige in the New World was in tatters. Pirate attacks surged, branches came under siege, and in the shadows, rival powers doubled down on infiltrating Marine ranks.
Reporters missed the battle where the Vice Admirals died, so the world only saw what the Navy allowed to leak, photos of Sengoku and Whitebeard clashing like gods. The deaths of three Vice Admirals faded into the background.
And as Whitebeard's crew held off Admirals Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji with skirmishes and desperate counters, Teach lingered in the shadows.
Two gleaming pistols rested at his waist, one gold, one silver. Exquisite, noble-made weapons, their bullets infamous for the pain they caused.
Teach had traded away a famous sword to get them. He already had enough blades, Purgatory, Thunder Fang, and the Dragon Abyss, all great treasures among the 21 Great Grade Swords.
And so Teach waited, biding his time as gods clashed overhead, his ambitions burning brighter with every quake and every roar.