Compared to the Vice Admirals who erupted in excitement at the thought of an opportunity, Akainu remained silent.
He sat back in his chair, arms folded and legs crossed, his eyes shadowed in thought.
The silence was unnerving. This was clearly the chance to crush a weakened foe, yet Akainu gave no immediate response.
Strange. Too strange.
This wasn't like Akainu at all.
That man—driven by absolute justice, the one who longed to wipe pirates from the seas—how could he hesitate now?
A cigar burned between his fingers as his brow furrowed. What was the famed Marine Admiral thinking?
Vice Admiral Burning Mountain stepped forward cautiously.
"Admiral Akainu… do we attack? What are your orders?"
Akainu exhaled, dropped the cigar, and crushed it beneath his heel. His eyes burned with cold resolve.
"Prepare the fleet. We're going after Whitebeard."
"It's time the so-called Strongest Man in the World disappeared."
The words hit like thunder.
The officers and soldiers erupted in cheers, their blood boiling with excitement.
To strike down Whitebeard himself—this would be a feat for the history books, a glory no Marine would forget.
And who among them did not long to etch their name into the annals of justice?
The Marine fleet, brimming with morale, launched a furious pursuit. They hunted the battered Whitebeard Pirates like ravenous wolves.
Already broken from the clash at Honeycomb Island, the crew could no longer muster their full strength.
Not only Whitebeard, but all of his beloved "sons" were grievously wounded, their fighting power but a shadow of its former self.
In this state, how could they withstand the unrelenting assault of Marine?
Bodies fell one after another, swallowed by the sea before their comrades could even recover them.
At such a critical moment, Whitebeard himself still lay unconscious, confined to a sickbed by his wounds.
Without their father… there was no leader.
Panic spread among the men.
"If this keeps up… will we all be wiped out?" one captain whispered, his face pale, voice trembling.
The other division commanders looked no better—fear gnawed at their hearts. They all knew Marine would not relent until the Whitebeard Pirates were ground to dust.
It was then that Marco, first division commander, clenched his teeth and spoke with iron resolve.
"Enough. I'll go myself. I'll hold off that old dog Akainu long enough for you to escape with Dad!"
"As long as Father still lives, we can rise again. Our day will come!"
The others were struck silent.
They wanted to stop him, to tell him it was madness, but when they met Marco's determined gaze, the words died in their throats.
He was their captain. They knew his resolve better than anyone. Nothing would sway him.
Vista finally spoke, his voice low but steady.
"Marco… you must return alive."
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