That figure in the distance looked to still be in his prime. Broad-shouldered, thick with muscle, a mane of black hair, twin blades in hand as he stood among the crew, practically buzzing with excitement.
He didn't match the image in Ozz's memory at all. The old man he knew was small and stooped. But Ozz knew that face too well to mistake it.
"Would you look at that. In his youth the old man was a full-on bruiser."
In this world, strong men tend to age in two directions. One type becomes like Rayleigh or Garp, just a touch of gray and a few lines. Oda once said that people with dreams and conviction don't wither with age, and their strength doesn't nosedive either. The other type lacks purpose or belief. They end up like Gloriosa or Miss Bakkin on Rocks's side. They don't grow into elegant old-timers like Shakky. They shrivel, their presence collapses, and they go lopsided and strange.
"Looks like the fall of the Rocks Pirates really did crush him."
Watching that high-spirited figure now, twin blades wrapped in Armament Haki, Ozz could only twist a wry smile.
He dropped one of the small-time bosses with a single shot.
Crackle.
The Black Gun in Ozz's hands hummed with black-red lightning, coiling with a dangerous charge. He swung the barrel and lined up the next targets. Even without seastone rounds, a bullet dressed in flowing Ryuo and Conqueror's coating was still a top-tier killer.
"Roger's crew is battered. To keep it fair, you lot can take your lumps too."
He didn't want Roger's side suffering heavy losses. He didn't want Rocks's side crippled either. If the commanders died here, the Rocks Pirates would be dull business from here on out, and the old man would be grieving for a long time.
One side was the old man. The other was Captain Roger. Ozz was caught in between.
"Ties of loyalty. They really do trip a man up."
He sighed. He didn't want to be bound by sentiment, yet he couldn't deny he was the sentimental type.
"All right then. First up, Whitebeard."
Through his scope he found the towering figure. Newgate stood at the prow, aura blazing, ready to meet Roger head on. Conqueror's roared off him in waves. A white corona pooled around his fist.
The sea itself shivered.
Bakkin lay draped across his back, eyes glittering with worship for that world-breaking power.
"Kulalalala. No helping it, Roger. You turned Rocks down, so this is where you die."
Murder flashed in his eyes. He drew back that quake-laden fist to flip the sea and sink the Oro Jackson with it.
"Captain Newgate, too cool."
Gick was practically starry-eyed, eager to watch Roger's crew get hammered. His grin said as much.
And then
"Won't work."
The murmur seemed to slip through the air itself. A single bullet wrapped in flowing scarlet and black-red lightning blinked into midair.
Newgate didn't have time to react. His Observation did flicker a warning that very instant, but teleportation was teleportation. No brain could keep up.
Smoke curled up from the muzzle. Ozz lit a cigarette, a slit of crimson flashing in his eyes, let the smoke out slow. He never bothered to check his shots. He didn't need to.
The future was already set.
"Guh."
Thud thud thud thud thud.
On the Rocks flagship a massive figure clutched his chest and staggered backward. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dyeing that crescent mustache red.
The deck exploded into shouts.
Bakkin tumbled off his shoulder, stunned to see that invincible man grimacing in pain. She scrambled to his side, panic first, then a skittering glance around.
"Newgate. What happened to you?"
"I'm fine."
Boom.
His bisento slammed into the planks and stopped the backpedal, caving the deck into a crater. The Black Gun, even without seastone, hit like a ship-killer cannon round.
He pressed a hand to the ragged wound in his chest and coughed blood again.
He looked calm, but inside he was reeling.
That was Conqueror's coating. No mistaking it. But who wraps it around a bullet that can't even be seen
Young Whitebeard bared his teeth through the blood and swept his gaze across the horizon until it locked on a man with long black hair exhaling smoke like nothing had happened.
A king's aura. No doubt.
His eyes went veiny. He bellowed to every ship in earshot.
"Heads up. We've got a monster on the field."
A single look told him the truth. The smoking Black Gun. The hole punched through his chest by a space-skipping Conqueror's round. This operation wasn't going clean.
"Huh"
"What are you talking about, Newgate"
"What happened to your chest"
The other commanders turned at his shout. Even their standoffs with Roger's side faltered.
Ozz vanished and reappeared atop the Oro Jackson's mast platform, exactly where every eye would find him.
"Call it me giving the Rocks Pirates a little face. Don't blame me for playing dirty."
Once he shifted into Black Gun form, as long as he threw honor out the window, he was untouchable.
Crimson lit his pupils. Every future track laid open like a toy train set waiting for his hand.
"Shiki. Charlotte Linlin. Kaido."
His eyes moved, just a fraction. Across the enemy flagships, blood sprayed in perfect unison.
Gick, so eager moments ago, froze where he stood.
"Those world-crushing captains they just"
He stared at the man on the mast, swallowed hard, eyes gone glassy.
"In this world there are monsters like that"
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