Chapter 154: Choice!
"Everyone, calm down!"
The voice was not a shout, nor was it a roar of anger. It was a low, gravelly rumble that cut through the rising clamor on the deck of the Red Force like a heavy anchor chain dropping into the deep.
Benn Beckman, the First Mate of the Red Hair Pirates, stepped forward from the shadow of the main mast. His presence was not explosive like a volcano, but heavy and immovable, like the Red Line itself.
The restless crew members, whose hands were already white-knuckled around the hilts of their sabers and the stocks of their flintlocks, froze instantly. Beckman's words were like a basin of ice water poured over their overheated heads, instantly dousing the sparks of reckless anger that had ignited at Suzaku's arrogant dismissal.
Beckman took the cigar from his mouth, the tip glowing like a dying ember against the gray sky, and tossed it over the railing. It hissed faintly as it hit the ocean below, a tiny sound swallowed by the tension of the standoff. With practiced, almost rhythmic motions, he pulled a fresh cigar from his coat pocket, struck a match against the sole of his boot, and lit it.
"Huuu..."
He exhaled a plume of thick, gray smoke. The smoke swirled in the salty sea breeze, momentarily obscuring his sharp features before clearing to reveal an expression that was the calmest, yet also the most solemn, among everyone present.
"My intuition was not wrong," Beckman murmured, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the drifting smoke.
His gaze—sharp, analytical, and seasoned by decades of navigating the most dangerous waters in the world—swept over the figures standing on the steel behemoth opposite them. He dissected their stances, their lack of fear, and the terrifying, suffocating pressure radiating from the black-coated captain and his monstrous subordinates.
"This is not a bluff," he announced slowly, ensuring every member of the crew, from the veterans to the newest recruits, heard him clearly. "They truly have this strength. Do not let your pride blind you to the reality standing before us."
He gestured vaguely toward the Pola with his cigar, the ash holding firm.
"Think about the intelligence reports we received. Both the Marine Admiral Kizaru and the Yonko Kaido... neither of them walked away unscathed from encounters with this group. Kaido was defeated. An Admiral was blocked. And those feats were accomplished by the single-named cadres on that ship, not even the Captain himself."
Beckman's analysis was almost cruelly calm, his words striking his companions' hearts one by one like heavy hammers. He was stripping away their bravado to ensure their survival.
"The other side indeed has the confidence to be arrogant," he concluded, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with warning. "Because in their eyes, we are not predators. We are prey."
Shanks listened quietly, standing at the very prow of the ship, his back to his crew.
The carefree, goofy smile that usually graced his face—the one that disarmed enemies and charmed friends alike—had completely vanished. It was as if it had never existed, replaced by the visage of a true Emperor of the Sea.
His eyes, usually holding a hint of laziness and open-mindedness, now only contained a profound, sea-deep solemnity. He stared across the hundred meters of water at the young man in the black coat.
He could feel it. The Haki in the air told him everything he needed to know.
The young man, Suzaku, showed not a single trace of murderous intent. There was no killing intent, no malice, no burning hatred.
But to Shanks, this was the most terrifying thing of all.
If there was hatred, there was a reason. If there was anger, there was a trigger. But this? This was absolute indifference.
It was an absolute confidence, a composure that regarded the Red Hair Pirates—one of the four pillars that held up the sky of the New World—as nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Just as a dragon would not care about the provocations of ants scurrying under its feet, because with a single stomp, the conversation would be over.
The balance of the sea? The unspoken rules of the New World? The delicate peace we maintain between the Government and the Pirates?
Shanks realized with a sinking heart that these things, which he had spent half his life maintaining and protecting, meant absolutely nothing to the man opposite him. In Suzaku's eyes, the "balance" might just be a bad joke—a shackle to be broken on a whim.
A sense of powerlessness he had never felt before rose in his chest. It was a foreign, bitter taste. But mixed with it was a towering fighting spirit, a roaring fire that refused to be extinguished. He was Red Hair Shanks. He did not bow.
Shanks slowly raised his head. His red hair shifted violently in the picking-up wind as he locked eyes with Suzaku.
He saw the playfulness in Suzaku's gaze. He saw the challenge.
Shanks's gaze hardened. It became more resolute than ever, filled with the awareness of a gambler betting his entire fortune on a single, desperate hand.
"Now..."
His low voice echoed on the suppressed deck. The wood beneath his boots seemed to vibrate with the sudden spike in his Conqueror's Haki.
"...is not the time!"
He clearly knew the stakes. If they started a full-scale war right here, right now, regardless of victory or defeat, the outcome would be catastrophic. The Navy would swoop in. Blackbeard would make his move. Big Mom would expand. The entire New World would be plunged into uncontrollable war and chaos.
This was precisely the future he had strived to avoid when he chose to set sail to intercept Suzaku. He wanted to talk. He wanted to reason.
But Suzaku, this biggest "variable" in history, already possessed the power to overturn the entire chessboard. Negotiation had failed before it even began.
I cannot be the one to light the powder keg, Shanks thought, gripping the hilt of Gryphon. But I cannot stand aside and let the world burn either.
"But!"
Shanks's voice suddenly rose, filled with an unquestionable will that resonated with the force of a thunderclap.
"The balance of the sea must never be broken so easily! Wano Country... the outcome of the Beasts Pirates... this matter must be stopped! We cannot allow a single force to swallow the New World whole without a check!"
His words were like an order, and even more like an oath. It was the declaration of a Yonko defining his territory—not of land, but of order.
Hearing their Captain's serious and firm words, all members of the Red Hair Pirates put away their shock, their fear, and their disorganized anger.
They no longer spoke. The chatter died instantly.
One by one, they stood up straight. Yasopp gripped his rifle, checking the sights. Lucky Roux bit into his meat with a grimace, swallowing it whole. Building Snake juggled his swords. They stepped forward silently, standing shoulder to shoulder with their Captain.
Sharp gazes, like drawn swords, crossed the hundred meters of undulating sea.
They pointed directly at the colossal steel ship dominating the front, and at the man on the behemoth who, by himself, commanded several monsters capable of shaking the world.
The atmosphere, at this moment, was extremely heavy.
It was as if the air itself had become viscous, thickened by the clashing wills and the sheer density of killing intent. Breathing became a labor. The waves between the ships seemed to quiet down, suppressed by the tension of the impending clash.
Silence was the best answer.
Looking at the sharp gazes, like drawn swords, radiating from the Red Force, Suzaku shrugged. The playfulness on his face remained undiminished, as if he were watching a particularly interesting play rather than facing a legendary pirate crew.
It seemed the option of a peaceful resolution had been personally crossed out by the other party. They had made their choice.
Since that was the case...
He turned his head slightly, breaking eye contact with Shanks. He looked at the woman standing beside him.
He met a pair of ice-blue eyes that had long been impatient, shimmering with a bloodthirsty light that bordered on madness.
Esdeath was staring at him with an annoyed expression. Her foot tapped impatiently against the steel deck. Her gaze seemed to accuse him: Why are you wasting precious combat time on pointless verbal sparring? Let me at them.
Suzaku smiled. He didn't speak. He simply nodded gently at her.
A look of silent approval. The leash is off.
Instantly, Esdeath's exquisite face bloomed with a smile. It was more brilliant than the warm winter sun, dazzling in its beauty.
But that smile held a cruelty and tyranny capable of freezing the soul of anyone who witnessed it.
"It should have been this way sooner!"
Her voice was filled with extreme pleasure, a purr of delight as if she had finally received a beloved toy she had been begging for.
"Why bother with these arrogant fools? Why talk when we can break them?"
She stepped forward, her high-heeled boots clicking sharply against the metal. She looked at Shanks and his crew not as enemies, but as raw materials for her amusement.
"Once I capture them one by one... once I tie them to the interrogation rack for a good 'questioning' involving boiling water and freezing air... they will naturally understand how utterly foolish any attempt to impede our progress is!"
Before her words even finished echoing across the water, Esdeath had already acted.
She waved her pale, elegant hands casually, as if shooing away a fly.
The temperature plummeted.
"[Ice Storm General]!"
It wasn't a gradual cooling. It was instant.
An invisible, bone-chilling cold instantly enveloped the entire sea area!
In an instant, the turbulent sea between the two ships seemed to have been paused by a divine hand.
Centered on Esdeath, extreme cold spread wildly outward. It moved faster than the eye could follow, a white wave of absolute zero.
Crack! Crack! Creeeeak!
Visible ice crystals grew and intertwined at an astonishing speed, solidifying the rolling waves mid-motion. The ocean groaned in protest as it was forced into stasis.
The waves froze into glistening sculptures, jagged and sharp. The splashing water droplets turned into brilliant suspended ice dust, sparkling like diamonds in the sun.
In just a few breaths—no, in a single heartbeat—this stretch of the New World sea between the two ships was forcibly transformed into an endless Arctic ice plain!
The Red Force, a legendary ship that had sailed the wildest seas, was suddenly gripped by the ice.
CRUNCH.
The hull groaned loudly as it was firmly frozen in place, the ice creeping up its sides like predatory vines. The ship rocked violently once before becoming completely immobile, emitting a series of grating "creaks" that sounded like the screams of wood under torture.
"What?!"
"This... this is...?!"
"The ocean... it's gone!"
Even the well-traveled cadres of the Red Hair Pirates were stunned speechless by this catastrophic sight. They had seen storms, whirlpools, and Sea Kings, but they had never seen the ocean die so quickly.
Shanks and Benn Beckman's pupils simultaneously contracted. Their faces showed expressions of disbelief, their Haki flaring instinctively to protect their bodies from the biting cold.
"The power of the Ice-Ice Fruit?" Shanks whispered in a lost voice, his breath turning into a thick cloud of white mist.
He remembered the Marine Admiral Kuzan. He remembered the chill of the Hie Hie no Mi.
"The same ability as Marine Admiral Aokiji?" Shanks muttered, shaking his head. "No... this is different."
He could feel it in the air. Aokiji's ice was cold, vast, and somewhat lazy—a natural disaster. But this coldness...
"This coldness seems even more tyrannical!" Shanks realized. "It's aggressive. It wants to hunt. It feels less like an element and more like a weapon."
Beckman's mouth, holding the cigar, twitched violently. He exhaled smoke, but the smoke rings seemed to freeze in mid-air, becoming sluggish and heavy before dissipating.
"Captain, we have big trouble," Beckman said, his voice grim. He adjusted his rifle, his knuckles white.
"The intelligence didn't mention this person. We knew about the wood user. We knew about the bat-man. But this woman..."
Beckman stared at the blue-haired general on the Pola.
"Another monster-level newcomer... truly a headache! Where does he find these people?"
However, despite the shock, there was not a trace of panic or fear on the deck of the Red Hair Pirates.
Panic was for rookies. Fear was for civilians.
They were elites. They were the crew of a Yonko. They had fought their way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood with Shanks.
Facing a force of natural disaster level, facing a sea turned to ice, they did not cower.
Instead, they grinned.
They adjusted their grips on their weapons. They lowered their stances. They only had an even more heightened fighting spirit!
"Ice, huh?" Yasopp chuckled, locking a bullet into his chamber. "Just makes it easier to aim without the waves rocking the boat."
Just as the Red Hair Pirates were on high alert, preparing for the assault, another "battle" quietly began on the deck of the Pola.
Under everyone's gaze, Esdeath gracefully leaped over the railing.
She moved like an ice and snow spirit, landing lightly on the jagged ice plain she had just created. Her boots made a crisp sound against the frozen surface.
She walked on the smooth, treacherous ice as if on flat ground. She didn't rush. She exuded a suffocatingly powerful aura, walking step by step towards the trapped Red Force.
Her commanding posture, her hands behind her back, made it seem as if she was not going to battle, but merely inspecting her newly acquired territory.
"Weak," she scoffed, her voice carrying over the ice. "Is this the best the New World has to offer?"
This scene—Esdeath taking the initiative, Esdeath drawing Suzaku's gaze, Esdeath showing off—completely ignited the fire in Albedo's heart.
Standing on the bow of the Pola, the Guardian Overseer of the Great Tomb of Nazarick felt something snap.
"That newcomer woman!"
Albedo's golden eyes narrowed into slits. Her hands clenched into fists, her black gloves straining.
"How dare she... how dare she try to win Lord Suzaku's approval before me?"
The sweet, devoted smile on Albedo's beautiful face instantly vanished. It was replaced by a subtle, terrifying twist of her lips—a mix of jealousy, rage, and competitive obsession.
Her gaze towards Esdeath's back was filled with resentment.
I am the one who serves Lord Suzaku best. I am his shield. I am his sword. Not this frozen barbarian!
"Lord Suzaku! Such mere riffraff, why should others bother! I shall dispose of them for you!"
Albedo let out a delicate shout, her voice dripping with possessive loyalty. She was equally unwilling to show weakness or be outdone.
Whoosh!
The black wings at her waist spread wide, casting a shadow over the deck. She leaped down from the bow like a white meteor, her armored dress fluttering violently in the wind.
Thud!
She landed precisely not far from Esdeath, cracking the ice beneath her feet with the sheer weight of her presence.
Esdeath stopped walking. She turned her head, her ice-blue eyebrows raising slightly.
"What are you doing here?" Esdeath asked, her tone irritated. "Go back to the ship. Interrogating enemies is my job! I saw them first."
Albedo straightened up, brushing invisible dust from her dress. She glared at Esdeath with equal intensity.
"Hmph! Don't get ahead of yourself," Albedo retorted, her voice cold and imperious. "I alone am enough to clear out the bugs for Lord Suzaku! Your methods are too slow. I will crush them instantly."
Two stunning beauties stood on the ice.
One had flowing ice-blue hair and wore a white military uniform, radiating the tyranny of a queen who conquered nations.
The other had lustrous black hair and wore a pure white dress, exuding the fanaticism of a saint protecting her god.
They stood facing each other across the vast ice plain, ignoring the Red Hair Pirates for a brief moment.
Invisible sparks crackled between them—blue frost clashing with dark energy.
Their intensity no less than their aura facing an enemy!
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