"What an overwhelming force!!!"
"Is he trying to destroy the world?!"
High above the massive desolate island, a seagull wearing a little bowtie flapped its wings rapidly, carrying two devices on its body — one for recording and another for live broadcasting.
At this moment, inside Morgans' headquarters, a large projection screen was showing the battle between Orin and Whitebeard.
The fists colliding, mountains shattering into fragments, and the resulting shockwaves stirring up titanic tsunamis — the entire sea surrounding the giant desolate island was collapsing in on itself. Even the ocean surface had miraculously fractured into pieces!
"So… Morgans-sama, should we broadcast this live to the entire world?"
One of his subordinates swallowed hard, his eyes burning with anticipation as he watched the apocalyptic clash unfold on the screen.
If this fight was streamed live, the entire Grand Line would explode in chaos!!!
His fiery gaze shifted toward the birdman beside him.
Morgans' own eyes were blazing with the same intensity.
For a newsman, nothing was more exhilarating and satisfying than igniting a global frenzy.
Despite his overwhelming urge to stream it live immediately, once his rationality returned, Morgans pressed down on the thought.
"No rush. Record it first."
"Eh?"
The news agency staffer looked at him strangely.
For someone like Morgans — the man who lived for breaking news — when had he ever not gone public with a story this big?
Even when the World Government demanded he withhold information, Morgans rarely bowed his head.
But Morgans ignored his subordinates' doubts, his sharp gaze never leaving the screen.
He had already decided: if Orin began to dominate the battle, they would broadcast the fight worldwide.
But if Whitebeard seemed to be winning, the stream would be scrapped and erased — as though this event never happened.
Yes, Morgans loved big headlines…
But he wasn't about to risk dying just for one.
...
On the giant desolate island itself—
The cracked and shattered ground stretched for miles, and two towering figures stood proudly amidst the chaos.
The battle had reached a fever pitch.
Whitebeard was panting heavily, his cloak long since torn to shreds, his body covered in countless wounds.
Most notably, the iconic crescent-shaped white mustache on his face — half of it had already been destroyed.
On the other side—
Orin's upper garment had been obliterated. His bare torso was riddled with wounds, but they were rapidly healing as he gripped Ace firmly in his hand.
At least on the surface, Orin seemed to be faring better.
"Not bad, Orin… You make me feel like I'm fighting Roger himself."
Whitebeard, at this moment, had already acknowledged Orin's strength. He no longer called him that brat from Roger's crew.
Orin's name now represented a force on par with legends — a man of a new era.
"Looks like you're not too old to move after all, Whitebeard."
Orin drew a deep breath, steadying himself from the relentless drain on his stamina, and smiled faintly in response.
Though both sides had taken heavy losses, this fight was far from over.
Raising their weapons—
The two towering figures clashed once more, their Armament Haki and Conqueror's Haki exploding violently against one another, creating storms of black and crimson lightning that split the heavens.
Fully unleashing their powers, both men were now fighting like madmen.
"Running around, aren't you?!"
Whitebeard tightened his grip on Murakumogiri, his Observation Haki fully extended as his sharp instincts scanned every shift in the environment.
Perhaps it was intuition, or perhaps it was the peak form of Whitebeard's Observation Haki granting glimpses into the future…
His eyes flashed coldly as he swung Murakumogiri in a wide, vicious arc toward his left.
"Pointless. That's far too predictable, Whitebeard!"
In the next instant, Orin's figure flickered — he appeared behind Whitebeard, his eyes glowing an ominous scarlet like a demon rising from hell.
Dark red flames coiled around his body, his killing intent pressing down like a tidal wave.
Orin's deep, icy voice rang out:
"The future I see… stretches far beyond yours!!!"
Sensing the monstrous aura erupting behind him, Whitebeard's expression darkened. With his strength drained and no time to recover, his reaction lagged just an instant too long.
In Orin's eyes, he was already moving too slowly.
"This strike… repays Captain Roger's kneel!!!"
A flash of black and crimson lightning tore through the battlefield.
The earth beneath them shattered instantly, unable to withstand the sheer force of the blow.
As Orin's blade came down, he reappeared on the far side of the battlefield, the black-and-red sparks around his sword gradually fading.
Splurt—!
As Orin turned, an enormous, gaping wound tore open across Whitebeard's back, blood spraying violently into the air.
If not for Whitebeard reinforcing himself with Armament Haki at the last possible second, this slash would have been fatal.
Even so—
The back bearing Whitebeard's iconic Jolly Roger was forever scarred.
From bottom to top, the wound split the skull emblem cleanly in two.
"Father!!!"
Far away, the Whitebeard Pirates watching from their ships froze in horror, their pupils trembling in disbelief.
A beat later, they shouted his name desperately, voices brimming with fear and concern.
"I'm fine!!!"
Blood dripped from Whitebeard's lips, but he raised a hand, signaling Marco and the others to stay calm.
At the same time, he quietly extended his Observation Haki, gauging the depth of the wound on his back.
...
"This Observation Haki…"
He had thought he'd tracked Orin's movements, but he hadn't expected this —
Orin's Observation Haki was on a level beyond terrifying, capable of seeing so far ahead that it rendered all of Whitebeard's counters meaningless.
And Whitebeard understood exactly what Orin meant by Roger's kneel.
It could only be referring to that incident on Roger's ship — when Kozuki Oden kneeled back then.
"What a monstrous body you have, Whitebeard."
Orin glanced back at the giant who was still standing tall despite his grievous injury, clicking his tongue.
Was everyone in this era just built like walking fortresses?
Still, Orin had no intention of killing Whitebeard with sneak attacks using his Warp-Warp Fruit. This wasn't a battle to the death — it was about willpower, pride, and carving his name into history.
In an instant, Orin warped right in front of Whitebeard, his leg wreathed in spatial energy and Conqueror's Haki. Twisting his body sharply, he launched a fierce kick straight at Whitebeard's head.
BOOM!!!
Crack… crack… crack—!
Whitebeard brought Murakumogiri up just in time to block, but the sheer kinetic force drove his massive frame into the ground, leaving a hundred-meter-wide crater beneath his feet.
"Don't get too arrogant!!!"
"I'm Whitebeard!!!"
With a roar, Whitebeard pushed Orin back into the air.
His weapon hummed as shockwaves gathered along the blade, and with a powerful upward strike, he sent them slamming into Orin's body.
Crack!!!
The air itself fractured.
The shockwave hit Orin square in the abdomen. Even with his reinforced body and Haki defense, the vibrations tore straight into his bones.
"Cough—!"
Blood spurted from Orin's mouth as his body shot upward into the sky under the force of the blow.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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