"Morgans, is that clear?" Teach said into the Den Den Mushi. Its head resembled an albatross, feathers puffed as it listened.
"Wahahaha! Crystal clear!" Morgans' laughter echoed through the headquarters of the World Economic News Agency. "Thank you, Dark Emperor, for the intel. I'll be fully prepared for this great battle. This time, I'm going to make a fortune again. Seventy percent of the profits will be yours."
That was far beyond the usual arrangement. Even after the standard fifty percent reserved for the main participants, Morgans had willingly surrendered another twenty percent.
Teach had taken the initiative to contact him. Morgans had been tracking the movements of the Nightfall Pirates closely, yet there had been little major news recently. Even so, he was not ignorant of Vice Admiral Brom's actions. Through certain channels, he had obtained fragments of internal Navy intelligence.
Morgans did not believe Teach was being reckless. On the contrary, Teach must have already known that Vice Admiral Brom was coming for him. More than that, he likely possessed detailed intelligence on Brom's Devil Fruit and the full configuration of the fleet assigned to suppress the Nightfall Pirates.
There were five Marine Headquarters war beasts in total. These exclusive warships, each exceeding one hundred meters in length, could carry nearly a thousand Marines apiece. The cost of constructing a single vessel reached an astonishing one billion Berries.
Alongside them were four Rear Admirals and eight Commodores. This was a force powerful enough to sweep through the Four Seas without resistance, backed by overwhelming firepower.
If Teach was willing to inform him proactively, then it meant only one thing. Teach had absolute confidence in defeating Vice Admiral Brom and his reinforced fleet.
Compared to the Navy, Morgans naturally hoped for a victory by the Nightfall Pirates. Teach was clearly not the type to sit still. Knowing a Marine Vice Admiral was coming to capture him, he did not flee. Instead, he chose to crush the incoming force head-on.
They had not even entered the New World yet, and already they were stirring such chaos. Morgans could only imagine how much greater the storms would be once they crossed that threshold.
For him, however, chaos meant headlines.
"I have one condition," Teach added calmly. "Do not broadcast it live. I don't want Navy reinforcements arriving before the battle is finished."
As he spoke, his fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his iron throne.
"I understand. Don't worry," Morgans replied eagerly. He knew this was not a suggestion, but a warning.
He had no intention of crossing Teach. In fact, he was already planning the coverage. A proper battle report required multiple camera angles, careful pacing, and dramatic framing. Only then could it truly captivate the world.
Audiences were growing more discerning with each passing year. Simple clashes no longer satisfied them. They wanted intensity, perspective, and immersion.
"All right," Teach said. "Hurry up. I've already located that Vice Admiral. In a few hours, the battle will begin."
A faint smile curved his lips as his gaze drifted elsewhere. Hundreds of kilometers away, five massive silhouettes cut through the sea.
The distance was great, and his perception faint, but five enormous warships sailing in formation were impossible to miss.
By now, five days had passed since Stephanie first delivered news of Vice Admiral Brom.
The West Blue was vast. Teach had deliberately altered his routes time and again, leaking fragments of intelligence to the Navy and drawing them steadily toward this region.
At last, the moment had arrived.
Teach's eyes burned, not with interest in Brom himself, but in the Devil Fruit ability Brom possessed. A top-tier Paramecia. One that could stand in for the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
In Teach's heart, the Tremor-Tremor Fruit remained his first choice. But that hardly mattered. What mattered was securing power first.
Teach rose from his throne, an excited grin spreading across his face. At the sound of his movement, every gaze turned toward him. The crew had heard his conversation with Morgans.
"My lads," Teach said, lifting a speaker. His voice echoed across all five pirate ships, rolling through the air. "The Marines will be here soon. This will be a big battle, so get ready."
A glint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes. "Execute them all. Let them be buried in this sea. We've been quiet for far too long. Let the name of the Nightfall Pirates resound across the ocean once more!"
Teach had never intended to remain low-key. Why sail the seas at all if not to carve one's name into history?
Across the fleet, training came to an immediate halt. Bare-chested fighters, sparring crews, and idle troublemakers all froze, their expressions lighting up with anticipation.
The newer members felt it most clearly. Over the past month, they had grown stronger at a frightening pace. Each of them could now defeat several versions of their former selves without difficulty.
The relentless training had been stifling. They needed release. They needed proof.
Now, that flame ignited.
"Waaah!"
"Leave none alive!"
"Annihilate them!"
"Finally, we can stretch our muscles!"
"Haha! Another fortune is coming!"
Excitement spread like wildfire. Confidence bred confidence. These pirates no longer felt any reverence toward the Marines. Their belief was not only in their own strength, but in the Nightfall Pirates themselves.
"All right," Teach laughed heartily, waving his hand. "Eat well and rest up. Let's give these Marines a proper surprise."
The doubled gravity pressing down on the crew vanished instantly.
Bodies felt lighter. Power surged.
While the Nightfall Pirates prepared eagerly, their prey remained unaware that they had already been marked.
"Teach. Nightfall Pirates. This time, you won't escape."
Vice Admiral Brom clenched his teeth, rage simmering beneath his words. Yet within his eyes burned excitement. At last, he could erase this cancer from the sea.
"To dare call yourself the Dark Emperor," he snarled. "I'll make sure you never see tomorrow's sun."
His confidence was absolute. His Devil Fruit had granted him terrifying power, far beyond his former self. Teach might be formidable, but the opponent Brom had faced before was a monster, not a man. Humans could be predicted. Broken.
Teach's Dark-Dark Fruit doubled the pain he endured. With Brom's martial skill layered atop his ability, he believed victory was assured.
Anger clouded his judgment. His faith in his power blinded him.
Only after consuming that Devil Fruit had Brom truly understood the destructive force it contained.
He wanted the Nightfall Pirates destroyed completely. In his eyes, they should never have existed. They were his stain. His failure.
As they grew stronger, his hatred deepened.
Public scrutiny, private torment, and the deaths of countless Marines had driven him toward extremity.
Ironically, no one openly blamed Brom anymore. Teach had already demonstrated power beyond that of an ordinary Vice Admiral. In comparison, Brom's previous failures seemed almost inevitable.
Yet Brom could not accept it.
Garp. Sengoku. Zephyr. His contemporaries had surpassed him in both reputation and strength.
Jealousy festered.
That jealousy became hatred.
It was that craving for power, that envy of the strong, which led him to defy military orders and the World Government itself by secretly consuming a precious top-tier Paramecia Devil Fruit.
In exchange, his strength skyrocketed. Confidence swelled until it overflowed.
He could easily defeat his former self now.
He knew what others said behind his back. That he wasted this ability. That he could never reach Whitebeard's heights. That his potential was exhausted.
So he needed proof.
And that proof was Marshall D. Teach.
Teach had displayed terrifying dominance. It was said that once he entered the New World, he would possess Yonko-level power. Teach had only recently eaten a Devil Fruit, yet he already wielded it with frightening precision.
Such mastery did not come from chance. Teach had planned this for years.
That made him the perfect target.
Along the journey from Marine Headquarters to the West Blue, Brom had crushed every pirate crew he encountered. No matter their bounty or defenses, they fell.
They were insignificant.
Meanwhile, Brom trained relentlessly. His strength climbed higher still, and visions of an admiral's seat crept into his mind.
To gather this force, he had leveraged every connection, every scrap of reputation. He had delivered speeches, provoked rivals, and dangled military achievements as bait.
This battle was everything.
If he failed, he would lose his rank. His future. His dignity.
Everyone would laugh.
"Vice Admiral Brom," a Rear Admiral reported, rushing over with barely concealed excitement. "We've located the Nightfall Pirates."
Brom rose instantly. Killing intent poured from him like a storm.
The Rear Admiral stiffened, his breath catching. Brom's presence had become terrifying.
"They are three kilometers ahead," the Rear Admiral said. "They appear to be sailing directly toward us."
"So they seek death," Brom replied coldly. "Good. Pirates like them should not exist. Let this sea be their grave."
"Vice Admiral, please restrain yourself," the Rear Admiral urged, wiping sweat from his brow.
Brom inhaled sharply, forcing his aura back under control. Without another word, he strode onto the deck.
In the distance, five pirate ships advanced, their black flag snapping proudly in the wind. Three skulls grinned beneath crossed bones.
"They don't even flee," Brom muttered. "Such arrogance."
Only then did he realize the truth.
He had not been hunting the Nightfall Pirates.
They had been coming for him.