Teach ignored Moria, who was still frozen in disbelief. "Among your Gecko Pirates, aside from yourself, none of your cadres can stand on their own. A pirate crew can't survive on the strength of just one man. Even if you seize territory, you won't be able to hold it."
He swirled the wine in his glass, speaking with calm conviction. "In my opinion, a single division of the Whitebeard Pirates could crush your Gecko Pirates. Your crew members are far too weak. In the New World, they'd be cannon fodder and not even the strong kind."
Teach's tone sharpened. "If you rush in blindly to challenge those top-tier pirates, your fate is already written. Maybe you'll survive through luck or your Devil Fruit, but your crew? They'll all die. If you're lucky, one or two might crawl away."
He paused, raising his glass and taking a long drink before continuing.
"I'm not saying this to mock you, but to make something clear: that dream of charging into the New World, defeating a few big names, and declaring yourself Pirate King? That doesn't exist. It's a fantasy."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low but heavy with certainty. "Every great pirate in the New World has been building their empire for decades. They've rooted themselves in their territories, raised their crews, and carved out their legacies through blood and time."
"What you should be doing now isn't chasing the strong—it's becoming strong. Focus on yourself and train your subordinates. When you reach the New World, don't aim for domination right away. Secure a foothold. Build a territory. Grow from there. The New World is a forge, it burns away the weak and tempers the rest into true steel."
With that, Teach stood and strode toward the door.
Moria remained seated, staring blankly into space. Teach's words echoed through his head again and again, leaving a brand deep in his mind. After a long silence, Moria suddenly threw back his head and burst into laughter.
"Kishishishishi! This world is so vast!"
For the first time, he truly understood Teach, why a man of such monstrous strength had chosen to linger in the Four Seas rather than rush into the Grand Line. Teach wasn't avoiding the storm. He was gathering it. He was building his empire, honing himself, strengthening his crew, and recruiting the kind of monsters who would shake the world beside him.
By comparison, Moria realized how foolish he had been, sailing without a plan. If Teach hadn't spoken today, his fate would have been exactly as described; his entire crew slaughtered, his name remembered only as another failure swallowed by the New World.
That was something Moria could never accept. For all his arrogance, he cared deeply for his men. It was that loyalty that drew so many to him but loyalty alone couldn't keep them alive.
He clenched his fists, eyes burning with new resolve.
At the port, Teach walked calmly through the crowd. He'd told his crew to rest for half a day, but time was growing short. The whispers from the Kraken Kingdom and the rumors of the Dark-Dark Fruit left him restless.
The situation in the Kraken Kingdom could erupt at any time. Still, even if the kingdom managed to hold on for now, it wouldn't last forever. The Great Pirate Era had thrown the world into chaos, and that chaos was fertile ground for the Revolutionary Army.
If the Revolutionaries struck, the Kraken Kingdom would be their easiest prey. And when it fell, the Devil Fruit would resurface somewhere in the sea.
Maybe that would happen in ten years. Maybe in two.
Teach had no intention of waiting.
Whether the fruit was truly there or not, he had to see for himself. If he could claim it now, all the better. If not—then the kingdom's destruction was only a matter of time.
Ordinary training was no longer enough. He needed more, more danger, more pressure, more power. If only he possessed the Glint-Glint Fruit; lightning would be perfect for tempering his body. For now, he could only channel wild, uncontrolled currents through himself—useful, but painfully inefficient.
Still, Teach was nothing if not patient.
When he returned to the port, a grim sight awaited him: dozens of corpses piled near the Nightfall Pirates' ships.
Thieves, no doubt, fools who had tried to sneak aboard.
With Gar standing guard, their fates had been sealed. Limbs scattered across the pier bore witness to his brutality. Gar was earning a reputation of his own now, a new title whispered in taverns and bounty offices alike: "The Bloody Hunter."
It wouldn't be long before his bounty poster reflected it.
A thousand meters beneath the sea, Teach trained in the crushing dark.
He held his breath easily, gills fluttering faintly along the sides of his neck. Through Life Return, he'd reshaped his own body, borrowing from what he'd learned of fish anatomy. The efficiency wasn't perfect, but it worked and more importantly, it pushed his training to new extremes.
The water pressure compressed every inch of his body. The unpredictable currents battered him from all sides. Every moment underwater honed his strength and endurance further.
This kind of training was a shortcut to power but also to death. One misstep, one lapse in control, and he'd be crushed into the seabed.
Teach's movements flowed like a fish's, minimizing resistance. Even so, he could feel his organs strain against the pressure. Lightning had strengthened them over time, but the ocean's weight was merciless.
Blood trickled from his mouth and drifted upward in a crimson ribbon.
The scent drew predators.
Shadows stirred in the deep. A massive sea beast lunged, jaws wide.
Teach smiled. "Perfect timing."
Muscles tensed. Fists clenched. He shot forward through the current like a torpedo, slamming a punch into the creature's skull.
The impact boomed through the depths. Shockwaves scattered schools of smaller fish in panic. The beast's body convulsed, then went still, its head caved in.
"Not enough. Keep going."
Teach's claws extended, slashing outward. Ten crescent blades of pressure ripped through the sea, slicing through water and bone alike. A hundred meters away, bodies fell apart in clouds of blood and bubbles.
The deep grew restless. More predators closed in, drawn by the frenzy.
Teach's grin widened. "That's it. Come at me."
Above, the waves trembled faintly as bursts of force rippled through the depths.
On the ship, Wallace glanced toward the sea. "Captain's at it again."
He couldn't help feeling a pang of envy. Devil Fruit users like him couldn't even touch seawater without losing their strength. Still, he trained as best he could sometimes with special Seastone handcuffs, expensive tools that dulled his powers but didn't completely paralyze him.
Gar stood nearby, calm as ever. "He'll come up when it's time to set sail."
Augur smirked. "Gar, isn't the full moon in two days?"
"Yes," Gar nodded, his tone thoughtful. "I can feel it coming. But I still can't figure out how to do what Captain said."
The Mink warrior's tail swished behind him. When the full moon rose, his tribe transformed, hair turning pure white, instincts surging, bodies overflowing with wild strength. It was called the Sulong form, a gift and a curse.
Power like that could destroy an army or kill its wielder through exhaustion.
In the past, Gar had always avoided it, suppressing the urge or hiding indoors. But Teach had given him a new goal; not just to control the transformation, but to master it.
The first stage was simple enough: maintain reason while transformed. Veteran Minks could do it through training.
Gar was not one of them at least not yet. Every time he lost control, Teach beat him into submission, sometimes with the help of the entire crew. Still, with every full moon, his restraint grew stronger.
The second stage was harder; transform without the moon.
Teach had shown him the path, awakening the dormant power in his blood through Life Return. If Gar could channel that energy consciously, he could bypass the moon entirely.
It was an impossible-sounding goal. But Gar believed. Under Teach's guidance, "impossible" was just another kind of training.
At the docks, the piles of corpses warned anyone foolish enough to covet the Nightfall Pirates' ships.
Elsewhere, Moria emerged from the tavern with renewed purpose. "Kishishishishishi! Let's go, lads—to the Grand Line!"
His laughter echoed across the harbor.
The crew of the Gecko Pirates roared in response, their spirits high. The Grand Line, dangerous, unpredictable, but irresistible. It was where all true pirates belonged.
For Moria, it was no longer about reckless ambition. It was about building something worthy of that vast sea.
Meanwhile, in the first half of the Grand Line, a Marine warship loomed near Reverse Mountain.
"Vice Admiral, we've received reports of the Nightfall Pirates."
A Marine officer handed a dossier to Vice Admiral Brom, who stood at the rail, eyes narrowed.
"They didn't go to the Grand Line… they went to the West Blue?" Brom muttered. "Cowards or clever?"
He crushed the paper in his hand, fury flashing across his face. "No matter where you run, I'll find you."
He turned sharply toward his men. "Set course for the West Blue."
The massive warship groaned as it turned, slicing through the waves toward its new prey.
Teach, unaware of the pursuit behind him, continued his preparations. Whatever lay ahead in the Kraken Kingdom, Devil Fruit, revolution, or war, he was ready to face it head-on.
The seas of the West Blue were about to stir once more.