Chapter 204: Reactions of Two Emperors!
Because they understood, they were all the more terrified.
The suffocating tension inside the grand throne room of Whole Cake Chateau was thick enough to be cut with a blade.
Charlotte Oven, the formidable Minister of Browned Food, stood completely frozen in his tracks.
The intense, blistering steam that perpetually wreathed his massive, muscular body had inexplicably vanished without him even noticing.
His normally burning, furnace-like body temperature had plummeted, replaced by a layer of icy, uncontrollable cold sweat soaking through his clothes.
He stared at the towering figure sitting on the throne, his dry lips parting slightly in sheer disbelief, yet absolutely no sound managed to escape his throat.
The colossal, terrifying frame of Charlotte Linlin, the undisputed ruler of Totto Land known to the world as BIG MOM, remained uncharacteristically silent for a long, agonizing while.
The silence from the usually boisterous and terrifying Emperor was far more intimidating than her loudest, most destructive tantrums.
Even the animated homies scattered around the lavish room—the talking doors, the singing tea cups, the sugary chandeliers—had completely ceased their cheerful chatter.
They trembled in absolute terror, squeezing their eyes shut, deeply afraid that even a single stray breath would trigger the Emperor's wrath.
At last, the heavy, suffocating silence was broken.
BIG MOM suddenly reached out with her massive, ring-adorned hand and seized an enormous, multi-tiered cream cake resting on the table beside her throne.
Without a shred of hesitation, she stuffed the incredibly large dessert entirely into her gaping mouth.
The sickeningly sweet scent of strawberry frosting and vanilla cream instantly filled the stagnant air of the throne room.
She chewed contentedly, the loud, sloppy smacking sounds echoing off the high, frosted walls.
With every single bite of the sugary confection, the immense, terrifying weight of pressure pressing down on her wrinkled face seemed to miraculously melt away.
"Mamamamamama...!"
That signature, bewitching, and utterly chilling laugh suddenly rang out loudly across the grand hall.
The sound bounced violently off the walls, sweeping away the heavy atmosphere as though the earlier, bone-chilling tension had never even existed.
"Katakuri was absolutely right!" BIG MOM declared, her thunderous voice returning to its usual, booming confidence.
She forcefully slapped the thick armrest of her plush throne, the sheer physical impact causing the entire floor to violently tremble.
Her piercing, bloodshot eyes narrowed into dangerous, calculating slits as she reached a final, unshakeable decision.
"That mysterious Suzaku brat and I have been very close 'friends' for ages!" she proclaimed, her words dripping with a thick layer of political hypocrisy.
"And when a dear friend successfully stakes out his own grand turf in the New World, we naturally must go out of our way to congratulate him properly!"
With a few simple, boisterous words, she masterfully recast Charlotte Katakuri's cautious, survival-based strategic overture as a simple act of courtesy between old pals.
It was a brilliant, face-saving maneuver.
She perfectly preserved the absolute, unblemished dignity of a reigning Emperor of the Sea, masking her profound wariness of the Suzaku Pirates' terrifying power under the guise of an alliance.
"I am leaving this extremely important task entirely to you, Katakuri!" BIG MOM boomed, pointing a massive finger at her second son.
"Take our absolute finest, most skilled Head Pastry Chef and bake a magnificent congratulatory cake the likes of which can be found nowhere else on this earth!"
She leaned forward, casting a massive, looming shadow over the gathered Charlotte siblings.
"Go and personally pick out some of the most precious, glittering gifts from my deepest treasury! Send them to Wano!"
She paused, her eyes sweeping over the silent room. "No objections?"
"Yes, Mom," Katakuri replied smoothly.
The tall, incredibly imposing Sweet Commander stood perfectly straight, his crimson scarf obscuring the lower half of his face.
He merely inclined his spiky-haired head slightly, his demeanor remaining as terse, calm, and perfectly flawless as ever.
"I will handle everything perfectly."
Without wasting another single word or unnecessary movement, Katakuri turned on his heavy boots.
He strode purposefully out of the grand hall, the sharp clinking of his spurs echoing with every step.
His broad, tall back exuded absolute confidence, allowing not even the slightest trace of hesitation or fear to be seen by anyone.
Inside the massive hall, the rest of the gathered Charlotte Family watched Katakuri's departing silhouette in absolute silence.
They then nervously glanced back at their monstrous mother, who was currently devouring the rest of her sugary feast upon the throne with terrifying gluttony.
Finally, a collective, heavy sigh of immense relief rippled through the ranks of the siblings.
Shoulders slumped, and the color slowly began to return to their pale, fearful faces.
Thank goodness… thank goodness they had such a brilliantly dependable, far-sighted older brother to guide them away from destruction.
And thank goodness they had such a mighty, politically cunning mother who knew when to swallow her pride to secure their survival!
…
Meanwhile, in a completely different, turbulent region of the unpredictable New World.
The colossal, whale-shaped leviathan of a flagship, the legendary Moby Dick, sailed steadily forward through the crashing, dark blue waves.
The ship, as always, reeked heavily of the comforting, robust scents of hearty ale, sea salt, and the rough, boisterous laughter of free men.
The warm afternoon sun beat down on the massive wooden deck, completely ignoring the shifting political tides of the world.
On the expansive main deck, the fearsome commanders and crew members of the Whitebeard Pirates stood tightly in a massive ring.
They were all cheering loudly, eagerly watching the daily, highly anticipated "entertainment" that was currently underway in the center.
"Fire Fist…!"
With a raw, furious roar that tore from his throat, a blazing, incandescent column of pure flame erupted into the sky.
The intensely hot fire violently twisted and condensed, rapidly transforming into a massive, roaring fire dragon.
The scorching attack surged forcefully toward the mountainous, incredibly intimidating figure seated calmly on an enormous wooden chair.
The giant man was hooked up to various medical equipment, thick translucent IV lines threaded carefully into his muscular arms.
Yet, facing the incoming inferno that possessed enough heat to turn ordinary men to ash, the man—the legendary "Whitebeard," Edward Newgate—didn't even bother to lift a single eyelid.
He remained seated like an unmovable, ancient mountain.
He simply, casually thrust forward the incredibly huge, wooden sake bowl held loosely in his massive right hand.
Boom!
An invisible, terrifyingly powerful tremor instantly met the roaring flame head-on in mid-air.
The air itself cracked and shattered like fragile, invisible glass, producing a deafening, bone-rattling shockwave.
The fiery dragon, possessing a temperature hot enough to instantly melt solid steel, slammed brutally against the unseen wall of sheer vibration.
With a pathetic sizzle, the flames were completely overwhelmed.
The roaring fire violently burst outward, scattering into a million swirling, harmless orange sparks that rained down upon the deck like a gentle meteor shower.
The devastating attack never even managed to singe a single strand of Whitebeard's iconic, crescent-shaped mustache.
"Failed again, Ace!"
"Hahahaha! Give it up, you stubborn newcomer!"
"You're at least a full hundred years too early to even scratch the old man's skin!"
A chorus of good-natured, booming guffaws immediately erupted across the crowded wooden deck.
The veteran pirates slapped their thighs, laughing heartily at the young man's futile but incredibly persistent daily assassination attempts.
Portgas D. Ace, his fiery ambush completely and utterly thwarted once again, sprang up gracefully from the scorched planks.
He gritted his teeth, his youthful face completely flushed with a mix of fierce embarrassment and unyielding frustration.
He aggressively beat the loose ash and dust from his black shorts and orange hat.
"Damn it!" Ace shouted stubbornly, pointing an accusing, burning finger at the towering Emperor. "I just got a little careless with my footing this time!"
He clenched his fists, the flames dying down around his knuckles. "Next time! Next time I'll definitely beat you, Whitebeard! Just you wait!"
It was his one hundred and first direct challenge since being forcibly brought aboard the Moby Dick.
And, entirely predictably, it was his one hundred and first crushing, humiliating defeat.
"Gurararara…!"
Whitebeard's deep, booming laugh rolled across the expansive wooden deck, sounding exactly like a peal of rolling, comforting thunder.
The sound vibrated right through the floorboards, carrying a profound sense of absolute, unshakeable strength.
Looking down at the incredibly prickly, endlessly defiant, yet passionately burning youth before him, Whitebeard's sharp golden eyes softened considerably.
They shone with a deep, genuine appreciation and a boundless, fatherly indulgence.
"If you truly think you can, then by all means, keep trying to take my head, Ace," Whitebeard challenged warmly.
He up-ended the massive wooden bowl, drinking the remaining strong sake in one massive, satisfying gulp.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his massive hand, declaring grandly for the entire ocean to hear.
"But you must remember this well! Once you sail on my ship and carry my mark, you are my beloved son!"
Whitebeard's voice echoed with absolute, unquestionable sincerity. "I treat you exactly the same as I treat every single son aboard this vessel!"
Ace's freckled face instantly flushed a deep, vibrant red.
He immediately turned his head away, crossing his arms and letting out a loud, defensive grunt to hide his shifting emotions.
Yet, deep beneath his stubborn, aggressive exterior, a profound, incredibly warm, and indescribable feeling slowly seeped through the icy walls of his lonely heart.
Just at that touching, family-bonding moment, the sound of frantic, rapid footfalls brutally shattered the jovial, relaxed air of the deck.
"Dad! Everyone! Listen to me! Something huge just happened!!"
Marco the Phoenix, the highly respected and usually unflappable first-division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, raced frantically across the deck.
He was clutching a freshly printed, heavily crumpled newspaper tightly in his hands.
His iconic, spiky blonde pineapple hair looked wilder and messier than ever before, clearly ruined by his desperate, panicked sprint from the newsroom cabin.
Seeing his deeply distressed expression, the cheerful smiles of the surrounding crew members instantly vanished into thin air.
They knew Marco better than anyone else on the seas.
For a seasoned, elite veteran like him to completely lose his composure, nothing short of a literal, earth-shaking global catastrophe could rattle him so deeply.
"What is it, Marco? Catch your breath and speak slowly," Whitebeard commanded gently.
The towering Emperor calmly set down his empty wooden sake bowl, his deep voice remaining an absolute bedrock of steady calm.
Marco, heavily panting and struggling to draw air into his burning lungs, aggressively unfurled the crumpled newspaper for all to see.
Raw, unfiltered awe and terror leaked into every single syllable he spoke.
"It's about Red Hair… and Kaido!" Marco shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "Both of their Emperor crews have completely lost a massive war!"
He pointed a shaking finger at the bold black ink. "They were defeated by a newly rising pirate gang called the 'Suzaku Pirates'!"
"What???"
The collective shout from the Whitebeard crew was deafening.
"Cut the crap, Marco! That's literally two entire Emperor crews! That's impossible!"
"Marco, have you been hitting the morning sake too hard again in your cabin?!"
The entire deck of the Moby Dick instantly exploded into a chaotic, disbelieving uproar.
Men grabbed their heads, others grabbed their weapons, completely unable to process the sheer absurdity of the intelligence.
The news burned infinitely hotter and shook their foundation much harder than Ace's absolute fiercest, most destructive "Fire Fist" ever could.
But before the panicked crew could even begin to mentally digest that terrifying piece of information, Marco dropped an even heavier, apocalyptic bomb upon them.
"That's not all!" Marco yelled, his voice straining to be heard over the rising panic.
He violently jabbed his index finger directly at the massive, terrifying front-page headline, reading each word like a physical blow to the stomach.
"The Strongest Creature... Beast Kaido… has been officially confirmed killed by the Captain of the Suzaku Pirates!"
Marco swallowed hard, his eyes wide. "Right now, as we speak, the entire isolated fortress of Wano Country is fully in their hands!"
"…Crash!"
The heavy, ceramic mug held loosely by a nearby crewman suddenly slipped from his trembling fingers.
It hit the wooden planks and completely shattered into dozens of jagged pieces, the spilled ale soaking into the deck.
The sudden, sharp noise seemed to act as an invisible, silencing switch.
The entire colossal ship was instantly muted.
Absolute, suffocating silence descended upon the Moby Dick.
All you could hear was the gentle lapping of the ocean waves against the wooden hull and the whistling of the New World wind through the rigging.
After what felt like a torturous eternity, an even greater, more terrified clamor erupted from the frozen pirates.
"Kaido's… actually dead? The immortal monster is dead?!"
"Well, good riddance to him! That tyrannical bastard absolutely had it coming for decades!"
A burly division commander broke the tense hush first, trying to mask his fear with bravado.
But another veteran pirate immediately shot back, his face pale and slick with nervous sweat.
"You absolute idiot! That's not the damn point here!"
He grabbed his crewmate by the collar, shaking him frantically. "The point is, the newly formed Suzaku Pirates actually managed to completely off Kaido!"
The pirate's eyes darted around wildly. "They've forcefully toppled two Emperor crews in the blink of an eye! Who the hell says we're not next on their damn hit list?!"
"…Gasp!"
A collective gasp of genuine, bone-deep fear rippled continuously through the massive crowd of gathered pirates.
Standing off to the side, Portgas D. Ace stood completely stunned, his mind going entirely blank.
His fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that his trimmed fingernails were painfully digging into his own palms.
He had just personally tasted the vast, seemingly insurmountable, sky-high gulf in power between himself and an established "Emperor" like Whitebeard.
He had deeply believed, with all his fiery heart, that this level of strength was the absolute, unshakeable pinnacle of the sea.
Yet, this man named "Suzaku"… a guy who, according to the papers, had just recently set sail from the weakest sea, the East Blue, not that long ago.
This guy, who was part of the exact same generation of rookies as him, had already successfully felled one veteran Emperor and brutally slain another?
A fierce, incredibly painful mix of deep frustration, suffocating inadequacy, and crushing defeat tightly clutched Ace's burning heart.
Damn it! Ace screamed internally, his teeth grinding together.
I've worked this hard, fought this many bloody battles, and pushed my body to the absolute limit!
Why? Why am I still left so incredibly far behind by someone else?!
Watching his highly agitated, squabbling sons from his throne—some nervously gloating over Kaido's demise, while others were deeply fretting about an impending war—Whitebeard remained calm.
The old legend's heavily weathered, scarred face kept its very faint, incredibly complex smile.
He raised the bowl again, drank deeply, then with his IV-free hand slammed the arm of his throne.
[Akarin Note:
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