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"Worororororororo—!!!"
Kaido's booming laughter shook the sky again, so loud the waves below rippled from the force.
His enormous dragon head rubbed affectionately against Dan's rosy cheek. In those blazing dragon eyes burned unrestrained pride and triumph.
"See that, Red-Haired brat? Old Whitebeard?!"
"That's my son!"
"Your precious commanders can't even last a second against him!"
Kaido's arrogant voice struck like a flurry of slaps across every face in both the Whitebeard and Red-Haired crews—hot, humiliating, impossible to ignore.
Whitebeard's weathered face darkened until it looked like storm clouds could pour from it.
Behind him, his captains—Marco, Jozu, Vista, and the rest—were trembling with fury, their fists clenched tight enough to creak.
This was shame.Utter, unbearable shame.
The kind the Whitebeard Pirates hadn't tasted since the crew's founding.
Even Shanks, usually so carefree, couldn't hide the tension in his jaw. Watching one of his own get demolished that easily—then mocked for it—set his blood boiling.
"Don't get too full of yourself, Kaido."
The calm but steel-edged voice came from among Whitebeard's men.
The crowd parted, and Marco stepped forward.
That messy blond "pineapple" hair, those half-lidded sleepy eyes—he looked as lazy as ever, hands tucked in his pockets.
But in his eyes—usually soft with indifference—a razor-sharp gleam had awakened.
"Pops," he said quietly, looking at Whitebeard. "Let me handle this."
Whitebeard met the gaze of his most trusted son, something unreadable flickering in his hawk-like eyes.
He knew exactly how strong Marco was.
The First Division Commander—Marco the Phoenix—was a top-tier combatant, on par with the strongest of the Yonko's right hands.
But…
Those strange black flames Dan had used earlier, and that devastating purple beam—Whitebeard hadn't forgotten their power.
"Be careful, Marco," he rumbled.
"Relax, Pops."
Marco flashed a grin, white teeth gleaming, eyes brimming with confidence.
He turned toward Dan, who hovered above Kaido's dragon head, and narrowed those sleepy eyes.
"Kid, I'll admit—you're strong. No denying that."
"But if you think you can throw your weight around on our turf, you're in for a rude awakening."
The moment the words left his mouth—
Whoosh!
Blue flames burst from Marco's body, brilliant and pure, not scorching but soothing, like a healing breeze.
His arms transformed into massive wings of blue fire, and his feet into razor-sharp talons.
The Phoenix had taken flight.
"Let's see how tough you really are, kid!"
With a sharp cry, Marco's wings flared—
—and in the blink of an eye, he vanished.
A flicker of blue streaked through the air so fast that even seasoned veterans could barely follow it.
"Fast!"
The Red-Haired crew couldn't help but gasp.
No wonder he was Whitebeard's First Division Commander.That speed alone set him apart from most of the world.
His talons, wreathed in Armament Haki and blue regenerative flame, sliced through the air, crashing down toward Dan's head with terrifying force.
"Phoenix Talon!"
The impact could have shattered a small mountain. Even an admiral would be sent flying.
Yet Dan remained utterly calm, eyes dark and unreadable.
Those black pupils turned scarlet, the pattern within spinning slowly.
Hum—!
A giant blue skeletal frame materialized around him, wrapping his small body completely.
Susanoo.
BOOM!
Marco's mighty kick slammed straight into the massive blue arm of Susanoo.
The air itself screamed under the impact, a thunderous crack echoing across the sea as the shockwave exploded outward.
Crack!
A sharp sound split the tension—fissures spidered across the supposedly indestructible blue arm.
"It cracked!"
"Unbelievable! One hit and he matched the Red-Haired Captain's power!"
Members of Shanks' crew gaped in awe.
"No wonder he's Pops' right-hand man!"
"Captain Marco's amazing!"
"The kid's defense isn't as tough as it looks!"
The Whitebeard crew erupted in cheers, their morale surging back.
Even Kaido's dragon eyes narrowed slightly.This pineapple-headed man… not bad.
Marco, seeing the damage he'd caused, pressed his advantage.
He flipped midair, wings glinting with blue fire, and dove again—his other talon wrapped in Armament Haki, aiming straight for the weakened spot.
He was going to crush that shell completely.
But just as his attack was about to connect—
Dan's Sharingan glowed crimson again.
"Amaterasu."
Fwoosh!
A black flame, darker than ink, bloomed from thin air—right on Marco's flaming wing.
"That move again!"
"Marco, watch out!"
Whitebeard's men cried out in alarm, remembering what those flames had done to Roxda.
Whitebeard himself tensed, his Conqueror's Haki rising as he prepared to intervene.
Everyone thought Marco was done for.
But instead of panic, Marco's face stayed cool—almost bored.
He didn't even glance at the spreading black fire.
He simply gave his burning wings a sharp shake.
Slash!
And to everyone's shock—he cut off the burning section of his own wing!
Like a lizard shedding its tail, the piece fell away, the black fire hissing as it hit the sea and went out.
Meanwhile, blue flames roared to life at his wound.
Before their eyes, new flesh regrew, feathers sprouting, and within seconds, his wing was completely restored.
Perfect. Untouched.
As if nothing had happened.
"The black fire didn't work!"
"Marco's healing flames cancel it out!"
"See that, brat? That's the power of our Whitebeard crew!"
Whitebeard's men cheered wildly.
The Red-Haired pirates nodded in understanding.
So physical separation could stop that cursed flame—but only someone with regeneration on that level could pull it off.
Tough luck, Dan. He'd just run into his natural counter.
Dan's brows rose slightly.
This pineapple-head… impressive. He'd actually neutralized Amaterasu.
But—
His black eyes glinted with curiosity as he raised a small finger again.
A faint violet light began to gather at his fingertip.
Seeing that pose, Marco smirked.
He didn't back down.
As the Phoenix, piercing attacks were the least of his worries.
Not even Kizaru's lasers could put him down—this kid's finger beam was nothing.
"That won't work on Marco!"
"He's a mythical Zoan—Phoenix model!"
"You don't get it, kid! That trick might fry a sniper like Yasopp, but not our Captain!"
Both crews looked on casually, unbothered.
Everyone knew Marco's regeneration was insane.
Even if he got blasted through, the wound would close in seconds—unless seastone was involved, it didn't matter.
"Special Beam… Cannon."
Dan ignored their chatter.
His childish, almost innocent voice carried the weight of destruction itself.
Whoosh!
A razor-sharp beam of condensed purple energy shot from his fingertip—so bright it sliced through the air like lightning.
Almost at the same moment—
Marco's talons smashed into the Susanoo again—
—and the spectral armor shattered completely.
But before Marco could even blink, the purple beam pierced straight through his chest.
Blood—mixed with flickers of blue flame—burst out of his back.
He didn't hesitate.
He instantly pushed his regenerative flames to the limit—
—but then froze.
For the first time, Marco's lazy expression twisted in pure horror.
Because the wound—the hole burned clean through his chest—
wouldn't heal.
"..."
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