Every word spoken by Uchiha Madara was like an invisible blade, stabbing straight into Marco's chest and making his heart ache with rage.
"Stop lying to yourself!" Madara declared coldly.
"The Whitebeard Pirates are finished! Honeycomb Island now belongs to the Kamui Pirates!"
His wild laughter and unshakable arrogance ignited Marco's fury.
The Whitebeard Pirates had ruled Honeycomb Island for over twenty years.
From the very beginning—before Whitebeard had risen to prominence—this island was the place where he chose to plant his flag and carve out his throne as one of the Pirate Emperors.
This land was their foundation, their legacy.
And now Uchiha Madara dared to stand before Marco, claiming it as his own?
It was the ultimate insult.
Madara's crimson Sharingan eyes narrowed with arrogance as he raised his hand.
"Of course, in the end, everything is decided by fists. Since you're not satisfied—then I'll beat you until you are."
Behind him, the massive form of Susanoo erupted into full power, its colossal aura shaking the battlefield.
Its mighty fist, blazing with destructive force like a falling star, came crashing down toward Marco.
"I won't be afraid of you!"
Marco roared, his phoenix wings blazing with blue flames.
With a burst of speed, he shot forward, clashing head-on with Susanoo's strike. The collision lit up the battlefield, fire against chakra, blue flames against spectral armor.
Meanwhile, having crushed the main Whitebeard forces, Senju Hashirama and the other Kamui Pirates began to feel restless.
"Should we lend Madara a hand," someone wondered aloud, "or just let him and Marco fight it out?"
Bang stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"No matter what, Marco is still a pirate with a bounty over one billion. Even for Madara, defeating him in one strike won't be so easy. Why not take the chance to intervene, kill him, and help Madara finish the fight faster?"
Gojo Satoru's eyes lit up with amusement at the suggestion.
"Oh, I like that idea. Sounds fun!" he said, nodding eagerly.
From the very beginning of the war, Gojo had been forced to deal with small-fry captains and other weaklings. It had grown tiresome, boring even. He craved a real fight, a worthy opponent.
But the strong captains—like Vista and Jozu—had already been taken down by others, leaving him with nothing but scraps.
It was frustrating.
"What's the point of beating weaklings?" Gojo muttered.
"It's not exactly something I can brag about to Captain Kronos later. Imagine me saying, 'Hey, I killed a bunch of small fry!' Pathetic."
But before he could act, Senju Hashirama raised a hand to stop them.
"You don't understand," Hashirama said seriously.
"That man—Madara—has never tolerated anyone interfering in his battles. If you step in now, it won't help him. It'll only enrage him."
As his lifelong rival and oldest friend, Hashirama knew Madara better than anyone.
For a battle-obsessed maniac like Uchiha Madara, nothing was more unacceptable than someone interfering in his fight.
It would be like barging in while he was enjoying a meal—guaranteed to make him furious.
Hearing this, Gojo Satoru and the others reluctantly abandoned the idea of helping.
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