The sea breeze of the New World was far harsher than anything Itachi had ever experienced in the ninja world.
A full week had passed since he boarded the Moby Dick.
He sat atop a coil of thick cables near the edge of the deck, calmly flipping through a copy of the World Economic Times.
The news-delivery seagulls were surprisingly professional—taking payment, giving change, all with practiced ease.
Interesting creatures.
The front page was filled with bold headlines:
"Four Emperors."
"Marineford."
"Seven Warlords of the Sea."
There were no daimyō.
No hidden villages.
Only an endless ocean where strength ruled above all else.
"Hey! Itachi!"
Portgas D. Ace's voice rang out from the top of the mast.
"Quit reading! There's a weird mist up ahead!"
Itachi folded the newspaper neatly and looked up.
A dense layer of pink fog was spreading rapidly across the previously clear sea.
It was unnatural.
Too fast.
"Enemy attack," Itachi said calmly, slipping the newspaper into his robes.
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard took a long swig of sake, his golden eyes narrowing.
"Looks like we've got visitors, boys."
Before his words fully faded, the pink mist swallowed the Moby Dick whole.
Visibility dropped to zero.
"I can't see anything!"
"Snakes! The deck's covered in snakes!"
Shouts erupted instantly.
Though the pirates didn't panic, chaos spread as weapons were swung at empty air.
Some slashed wildly at the mast.
Others rolled across the deck, screaming at hallucinations only they could see.
This was an attack on the senses.
"Luffy?! Why are you covered in blood?!"
Ace was drenched in cold sweat, his fists trembling as flames burst from his body.
"Fire Fist!"
Boom!
A massive pillar of fire erupted, scorching part of the railing.
"Ace! Calm down!"
Marco shifted into his phoenix form to restrain him—but even he staggered, his vision warping.
"This mist… it's interfering with the nerves?"
The entire deck descended into disarray.
Only two people remained unaffected.
One was Whitebeard, seated like an immovable mountain, frowning as he searched for the source of the disturbance.
The other—
Was Uchiha Itachi.
Standing calmly at the center of the chaos, the three tomoe in his eyes fused into a rotating windmill.
The Mangekyō Sharingan.
To his vision, the pink mist was nothing more than a crude energy wave directly stimulating the cranial nerves.
"Genjutsu?"
Itachi's expression didn't change.
Too crude.
This level of mental interference was like a child waving a cleaver in front of a master swordsman.
"Jie jie jie jie!"
A shrill, grating laugh echoed from within the fog.
A pirate ship bearing a purple skull flag slowly emerged.
At its bow stood a tall, gaunt man dressed like a stage magician.
Captain of the Phantom Pirates—The Illusionist Simon.
"This is the legendary Whitebeard Pirates?" Simon sneered, rolling a crystal ball between his fingers.
"Before my Phantom Fruit, even one of the Four Emperors' crews is nothing but a pack of madmen!"
"Kill each other! Slaughter your comrades!"
The mist thickened instantly.
Screams rose and fell across the deck.
"Enough."
A cold voice cut through the battlefield.
Simon froze.
Through the fog, he saw a black-haired youth staring straight at him.
Those eyes—
Deep crimson.
Three tomoe spinning slowly.
"Who are you?" Simon asked, an instinctive dread seizing his heart.
Itachi didn't answer.
The Body Flicker Technique activated.
In the next instant, Itachi stood at the bow of the enemy ship—less than half a meter from Simon.
"What?! Seeking death?!"
Simon roared, lifting his crystal ball.
"Phantom—Hell's Reincarnation!"
He wanted this brat to experience endless dismemberment.
Itachi merely watched him.
"So this is what you call a Devil Fruit ability?"
His voice was soft.
"But where I come from…"
His ocular power exploded.
"Tsukuyomi."
—
The world shattered.
The sea vanished, replaced by a blood-red sky and a monochrome wasteland.
Simon was bound to a massive cross, unable to move.
Countless Uchiha Itachis stood before him, each holding a blade.
"W-Where is this?! An illusion?! I'm a Phantom Fruit user!"
Simon screamed.
"Here," all the Itachis spoke at once, their voices overlapping,
"space, time, and mass are all under my control."
"A single second in reality equals three days here."
Puchi.
The first blade pierced Simon's thigh.
The pain was horrifyingly real.
"Reveal your tactical layout," Itachi said coldly,
"or enjoy seventy-two hours of slow death."
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Simon's mind collapsed instantly.
This wasn't illusion.
It was hell.
"There are explosives in the water on the left! Saboteurs are hiding underwater! Just kill me!"
—
In the real world, less than a second had passed.
Simon's eyes rolled back, foam spilling from his mouth as he collapsed like a sack of mud.
Even unconscious, he screamed:
"Left side! Explosives! People underwater!"
With the user incapacitated, the pink mist dissipated instantly.
Sunlight flooded the deck once more.
"Huh?"
Ace froze mid-motion, staring blankly at the flames in his hand.
"Where's the blood? Where's Luffy?"
The pirates blinked, confused.
"Was that… a dream?"
"Damn it, scared me half to death!"
All eyes turned toward the enemy ship's bow.
The once-silent newcomer was calmly adjusting his cuffs.
At his feet, the enemy captain twitched like a dead dog.
Total silence.
The Devil Fruit user who had toyed with them all—
Defeated with a single glance.
"Are you kidding me…?"
Thatch nearly dropped his blades.
Itachi turned back toward the Moby Dick.
"There are explosives in the water on the left. Saboteurs are hiding below."
"I recommend immediate cleanup."
With that, he kicked Simon's unconscious body back onto the enemy deck.
"Every technique has weaknesses," Itachi said flatly.
"Devil Fruits are no exception."
The Whitebeard Pirates snapped into action.
"Left side! Check it now!"
"Diving team—get in the water!"
"Jozu! Sink that ship!"
The battle turned into a one-sided massacre.
Ten minutes later, it was over.
The Moby Dick remained completely unharmed.
Itachi stepped back onto the deck.
This time, the looks directed at him had changed.
He was no longer just the newcomer.
He was a dependable combatant.
"That was insane, Itachi!"
Ace rushed over, circling him excitedly.
"What was that? Haki? How did he drop after one look from you?!"
Itachi tilted his head to avoid Ace's face.
"Ocular technique," he replied briefly.
"I showed him reality."
"Gurarararara!"
Whitebeard laughed heartily, setting down his sake bowl.
"Well done, brat."
"I hate tricks that mess with people's minds."
"That look of yours was damn satisfying!"
Itachi bowed slightly.
"It was my duty."
On this ship, strength earned you a voice.
Since he planned to stay for now, he couldn't remain a bystander.
"Perfect!"
Thatch clapped his hands.
"Crisis over! To celebrate Itachi's first big victory—"
"We're having a banquet!"
Thatch exchanged a mischievous glance with Ace.
"You haven't tried our special juice yet, have you?"
Itachi felt danger immediately.
"I don't drink alcohol."
Ninja rule—alcohol dulled the senses.
"Oh, it's not alcohol! It's juice! Totally natural!"
Ace slung an arm around Itachi's neck with surprising strength.
"I'm drinking it too!"
Thatch rolled out a massive oak barrel.
The label read:
"100% Pure Fruit Juice."
In tiny print at the corner:
Alcohol content: 75%.
Itachi's Sharingan was still active.
That line might as well have been carved in stone.
"…."
He looked at Ace's earnest, expectant eyes.
Then at the cheering crew around him.
The words of refusal stuck in his throat.
So this was what they meant by family—
No rules required.
Itachi sighed inwardly.
He averted his gaze, pretending he hadn't seen the fine print.
"…Just one cup."