Chapter 128: The Emperor Retreats! The Journalist in the Cage!
Who are they?
The question echoed in the chaotic silence, bouncing off the shattered remnants of the Whole Cake Chateau. It wasn't just a query; it was a fundamental shaking of reality for every soul present on the battlefield.
They are the Yonko. The Big Mom Pirates. The absolute rulers who have reigned over the volatile waters of the New World for decades with an iron fist and terrifying soul-manipulating powers. They are the top overlords, the apex predators whom countless people on the sea fear just by hearing their names whispered in taverns.
Yet, here they were. The "invincible" family.
Charlotte Katakuri stood amidst the debris, his boots grinding against the crushed sugar-glass of the destroyed venue. His crimson eyes, usually so sharp and composed, were now wide with a turmoil that threatened to crack his stoic mask.
As a top executive of this pirate crew, as the strongest Sweet Commander, as the perfect older brother who never laid his back on the ground... how could he? How could he have such a humble, trembling thought surfacing in his mind? A thought that tasted like ash and defeat.
It was a thought almost like... surrendering.
"No..."
Katakuri's pupils suddenly constricted to pinpoints. The red glow of his Observation Haki flared intensely, peering seconds into the grim future.
In his mind's eye, he saw the alternative. He saw what would happen if the battle continued for even one more minute. He saw his mother, consumed by rage, clashing once more with that blue spectral giant. He saw the island of Whole Cake splitting in half. He saw his siblings—Perospero, Smoothie, Oven, Brulee—buried under mountains of rubble, their lifeforce extinguished by the collateral damage of a war they couldn't handle.
"I absolutely cannot let the situation continue to develop like this!"
The realization hit him with the force of a cannonball. If they continued to fight, 'Mom' would be gambling her dignity, yes. She might even eventually win through sheer attrition and monstrosity. But the cost?
The entire Charlotte Family would be gambling... their very existence.
The legacy they had built for forty years would turn to dust today.
In the nick of time, just as the air began to vibrate with the gathering energy of a second clash, Katakuri stomped the ground.
Boom!
The mochi-infused earth exploded beneath his feet, propelling him forward faster than the eye could track. His figure instantly vanished from his position, leaving only a cloud of dust swirling in his wake.
The next moment, he appeared in front of Charlotte Linlin.
Big Mom was just struggling to her feet from the rubble. Her massive frame was bruised, her pink dress torn, and her breathing ragged. She gripped Napoleon, her sentient sword, ready to unleash a scream that would shatter eardrums.
But before she could move, Katakuri spread his arms wide, his massive back facing the enemy, blocking her way completely.
"Mom! Please calm down!"
Katakuri's voice carried an unprecedented urgency and solemnity. It wasn't the voice of a subordinate reporting to a captain; it was the desperate plea of a son begging his mother not to jump off a cliff.
"The other party is our honored guest!" Katakuri shouted, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure. "This is all a misunderstanding! There's no need for us to continue fighting!"
The words hung in the air, heavy and thick.
Charlotte Linlin, on the verge of a furious outburst and ready to charge again like a calamitous storm, froze. She was blocked by her trusted son. Normally, such defiance would have fueled her anger even more. Normally, she would have swatted him aside like a fly and stolen his lifespan for daring to stand in her way.
But to everyone's surprise—to the shock of Perospero, who was watching with his mouth agape, and to the disbelief of the trembling guests—she didn't strike.
She looked at Katakuri's determined face. She saw the sweat dripping down his forehead. She saw the desperation in his eyes, a look she had never seen on her strongest child before.
And the madness in her eyes miraculously receded a little.
"Misunderstanding"...
This word echoed in her mind. It was like a life-saving step, timely placed at her feet just as she was about to fall into an abyss of total war. It was a golden ladder offering a way down from the humiliation without admitting defeat.
Her massive chest heaved violently, the sound of her breath like a bellows fanning a dying fire. She could feel the churning blood within her, the ache in her bones from the impact of the Susanoo's strike. Reason, battered and bruised, finally crawled out from under the debris of her crushed pride with great difficulty.
She was an Emperor. She wasn't just a monster; she was a ruler. And a ruler knew when the cost of a battle outweighed the spoils.
"Ma... mamamamamama!"
A sudden and strange burst of laughter came from Charlotte Linlin's mouth. It was loud, piercing, and terrifying, rolling over the ruins of the Chateau like thunder.
She took the opportunity to put away her damaged Napoleon. The massive blade shimmered and folded in on itself, transforming back into a harmless bicorne hat which she jammed onto her head.
She gazed deeply at the source of her pain.
Her eyes locked onto Uchiha Madara, suspended within the crystal forehead of the towering blue giant. She licked her lips with her scarlet tongue, savoring the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Her eyes were complex—a swirling vortex of emotions.
There was anger, yes. But there was also admiration. And shock!
But even more so, buried deep within those pupils that had seen the rise and fall of eras, there was an unprecedented... apprehension!
She knew. Her instincts, sharpened by decades of survival in the Rocks Pirates and beyond, screamed at her. That thing is dangerous.
Then, her gaze swept past the giant, past the debris, and landed squarely on Suzaku in the distance. The young captain stood calmly, his cape fluttering in the wind, looking not like a survivor, but like an equal.
"Ma mamamamama... Since he's an honored guest, then everything is easy to discuss!"
Charlotte Linlin's voice was still loud and clear, projecting her dominance to every corner of the island so that none would mistake this for weakness.
"Kid! In consideration of you daring to come to my tea party, I'll give you this face! I won't hold this 'misunderstanding' against you this time!"
It was a masterful pivot. A political lie spoken with the conviction of truth.
After speaking, she turned around with a dramatic swirl of her cape. She began to walk away, her heavy footsteps crushing the rubble beneath her, leaving deep imprints in the ground. She walked as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't just been knocked down, as if she were simply bored of the game.
Seeing that the other party finally intended to stop, Uchiha Madara, standing with his arms crossed at the forehead of the blue giant, showed undisguised disappointment.
A sneer curled his lips. His Rinnegan eyes narrowed with contempt.
"Hmph, boring."
The words were spoken softly, but they carried the weight of a god denying a prayer.
As his voice fell, the blue Susanoo that had suppressed the entire scene—the construct that had made everyone's souls tremble with its sheer malevolent chakra—began to deactivate.
It didn't just vanish; it dissolved. Slowly, majestically, from top to bottom, the spectral armor turned into blue particles of light that drifted into the air like phantom fireflies. The terrifying swords, the ribcage, the demonic face—all faded away, leaving only the man.
Madara quietly fell back to the ground, his feet touching the stone with the grace of a leaf landing on water.
"They're not fighting anymore!" He folded his arms, his armor clinking softly. He added coldly, "I was just starting to loosen up."
At this moment, a completely different energy interjected.
Hashirama Senju's cheerful and gentle voice sounded at the right time, as if to smooth things over with a bucket of warm water.
"Oh... Madara, don't say that!"
The First Hokage stepped forward, his red armor bright against the grey ruins. He had a disarming smile on his face, the kind that made you forget he could crush the island with a forest of wood.
"Since they're not pursuing it anymore, we should also know how to return the favor and give them some face. Let's just drop this matter! We are guests, after all!"
Uchiha Madara, hearing this, merely let out a disdainful snort from his nose.
"Che."
He looked away, clearly annoyed by Hashirama's softness, but ultimately said nothing more. He didn't draw his weapon. He didn't provoke further. He tacitly agreed!
Suzaku, watching the interaction between his two most powerful summons, felt a wave of relief wash over him, though he didn't show it. His smile deepened.
He walked over and patted Hashirama's shoulder, speaking in a leisurely tone that belied the tension of the moment.
"Hashirama, you see, now everyone can communicate properly, can't they? Violence isn't always the answer... though it certainly helps set the table."
They spoke these words lightly, chatting as if what had just transpired was merely a harmless friendly sparring session in a dojo, rather than a cataclysmic clash between superpowers.
However, to the ears of the Charlotte Family members, it was nothing short of the sharpest mockery. It was salt rubbed into a fresh, gaping wound.
Friendly? You nearly destroyed the Chateau! You made Mom bleed!
But they swallowed their retorts. The fear was too deep.
Katakuri dared not hesitate any longer. He knew the window for peace was fragile.
Buzz.
He flashed in front of Suzaku. The massive Sweet Commander, standing nearly 5 meters tall, hunched his shoulders. His posture was extremely low, his demeanor stripped of its usual intimidation. His tone was unprecedentedly sincere.
"Mr. Suzaku!"
Katakuri bowed his head slightly, a gesture that sent shockwaves through his siblings watching from the sidelines.
"Today's incident was a complete misunderstanding! We bear absolutely no ill will towards the Suzaku Pirates! Please, I beg you and your subordinates not to dwell on it and let it go!"
Katakuri knew very well that every word he spoke now concerned the future of his entire family. One wrong word, one spark of arrogance, and the blue giant might return. Or worse.
Suzaku looked at the man in front of him. He saw the tension in Katakuri's muscles, the way his scarf moved with his rapid breathing. He saw a man trying his best to maintain composure while his world crumbled around him.
Suzaku understood.
The Mink Tribe warrior, Pedro, had trespassed first. He had tried to steal the Poneglyph. The Big Mom Pirates had every right to defend their territory. The other party had acted afterward.
Since the other party—specifically a Yonko—had provided an out, there was no need for him to genuinely fuss about it here. He had achieved his goal. The Mink Tribe had been rescued. His dominance had been asserted.
"No problem, no problem."
Suzaku waved his hand, his smile harmless and radiant.
"Mr. Katakuri, you're being too serious. Since it's a misunderstanding, it's good that we've cleared it up. We aren't unreasonable people."
He chuckled, lightly glossing over the terrifying conflict that could have overturned the Yonko's balance of power in a single afternoon.
"We will be taking our leave then," Suzaku added, signaling to Nami and the others to prepare for departure.
Just then, as the atmosphere began to decompress, Suzaku's gaze casually swept across the chaotic plaza.
He looked past the unconscious homies, past the shivering chefs, and suddenly, his sight fixed on a sneaky figure huddled in the corner behind a broken pillar.
It was a figure that shouldn't have been there. Or rather, a figure that was always there when chaos erupted.
The King of World News. The President of the World Economy Newspaper. "Big News" Morgans.
The giant albatross-human hybrid was hiding behind the debris, trying to make himself as small as possible. One hand was clutching his top hat to keep it from blowing away in the wind, and the other was holding up his iconic Den Den Mushi camera.
The lens was pointed straight at them.
"Click, click, click."
The shutter went off incessantly. The sound was faint, masked by the wind, but to Suzaku's ears, it was as loud as a drum. Morgans was snapping pictures frantically, afraid to miss any exciting moment of this historic event.
A subtle, unreadable smile appeared on Suzaku's face. It wasn't the friendly smile he gave Katakuri. It was something... predatory.
He took a step. Then another. He walked directly towards Morgans.
"Click... click... Huh?"
Morgans was enthusiastically taking pictures, his mind already racing with headlines. 'YONKO DEFEATED?' 'NEW ERA ARRIVES!' 'SUZAKU'S POWER!'
But suddenly, through his viewfinder, the composition changed.
He saw that terrifying figure. Captain Suzaku of the Suzaku Pirates.
He wasn't looking at the exit. He wasn't looking at Big Mom.
He was looking right into the lens.
He was walking straight towards him with a strange, knowing smile!
Morgans' movements instantly froze. The finger on the shutter button turned to stone.
Whoosh.
Cold sweat immediately broke out on his bird-like forehead, soaking the white feathers. His beak hung open slightly.
"He... he's walking towards me?"
Panic exploded in his chest.
"Why?"
"Is it because I've been taking pictures? Does he want to confiscate the negatives? Does he want to suppress the story?"
Morgans' heart hammered against his ribs.
"Or does he want to... silence me?"
The thought sent a shiver down his spine that rattled his very bones. In the underworld, silencing the messenger was common practice. And he had just witnessed a Yonko being humiliated. This was dangerous knowledge.
"No! Wait!"
His mind raced faster than it ever had before.
"Could it be because the news I reported in the past displeased him?"
He frantically dug through his memory of every article he had ever published about the rookie pirate.
"Which article? The one about his bounty? Did I get the amount wrong? Did I use a bad picture? Or something else! Did I insult his crew?"
In an instant, countless thoughts exploded in Morgans' mind, each one more terrifying than the last. He felt like a mouse trapped in a cage with a tiger strolling in for dinner.
As Suzaku's footsteps drew closer—tap, tap, tap—the sound echoed on the stone floor. The invisible pressure radiating from the young captain almost made him unable to breathe.
He could even feel the feathers on his wings stand on end from pure, primal fear!
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