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"Katakuri! You can't beat me, even with your future-seeing Observation Haki!"
Katakuri stayed silent, his eyes locked on Atlas with an emotionless stare.
Atlas pressed on, unfazed. "Even if you could fight me for days without rest, you'd be the one to tire first. And besides… I'm not a Devil Fruit user!"
Katakuri didn't question him. A man with such an aura had no reason to lie. He also knew he had rushed into this confrontation too hastily.
With that Marine swordmaster watching from the sidelines like a hawk, the battle's outcome would only end in his loss.
"Come! One last, life-or-death strike!" Katakuri tore off his tattered clothes, revealing a torso of solid muscle.
In an instant, he generated an enormous mass of mochi, coating it in Armament Haki.
"Let's go!" Atlas drew a deep breath, pushing his Observation Haki to the absolute limit. His muscles tightened, his Armament Haki growing even denser.
He knew that if Katakuri decided to flee, he wouldn't be able to stop him—the gap in their strength wasn't that great.
"Blast Fist: Armament!"
"Zan-giri Mochi!"
The blistering heat of Atlas's strike clashed violently against Katakuri's bizarre, mace-like fist.
A deafening shockwave ripped through the air, threatening to create a vacuum in its wake.
Both men were hurled back with immense force. Katakuri used the momentum to retreat far into the distance.
Atlas didn't give chase. Instead, he steadied himself mid-air, silently watching Katakuri's figure vanish over the horizon.
Back aboard the ship, Gion's amused voice broke the quiet. "So, how was it, little Kanos?" She looked him over with a hand covering her mouth, hiding a teasing smile.
"Ah, I'm fine. He's strong," Atlas replied casually, brushing the dust from his shoulders.
He tore away what was left of his shredded clothes and turned to his adjutant. "Bolton, grab me a fresh set of clothes, will you? Thanks."
"Yes, sir! No need to be so polite, Commodore Atlas!" Bolton answered eagerly.
In just the few days he had served under Atlas, Bolton had been completely won over by his commanding officer's strength.
—Totto Land—
The New World's Totto Land archipelago—a fantastical sea scented with sugar, its rivers flowing with cream, and its enormous ships singing eerie tunes.
At its heart floated the Queen Mama Chanter, the flagship of the Big Mom Pirates.
She was surrounded by the ornate vessels of her officers, with the numbered tart ships forming the fleet's outer perimeter. Together, they made up the armada of one of the Four Emperors.
On her throne sat a heavily pregnant Big Mom. Her grotesque face was twisted into an even grimmer expression than usual. To her left, Katakuri sat silent. To her right, Perospero gripped a massive lollipop, not daring to even lick it.
The tension in the hall was suffocating. No one moved. No one dared to breathe too loudly.
The news they had received was grim—Big Mom's fourth son, Charlotte Oven, was dead.
The irony was almost bitter. Though the Big Mom Pirates were built on family and blood, her children had never known a shred of motherly warmth—only the tyranny of a ruthless matriarch.
"Mamamama! A Marine killed that brat Oven? Katakuri!" Big Mom's eyes, lined with garish purple shadow, bulged wide as she leaned forward. Her massive face loomed so close that Katakuri could see every pulsing, bloodshot vein in her eyes. She looked every bit the demon she was feared to be.
Katakuri met her gaze, unflinching. His grief was deep—he cared for his siblings more than anyone. But the tyrant before him didn't mourn; she was furious at the loss of face.
"Mamamama! What a useless fool, making me look bad like this! Katakuri, why didn't you bring that Marine back?"
"…I'm sorry, Mama. That Marine is strong. I was unable to avenge Oven."
Perospero's eyes widened. In all his years, he had never heard Katakuri—the family's strongest and most respected—admit defeat.
"Mamamama! You useless fool! Are you ready to die by my hand?" Big Mom's laughter rumbled like thunder, her mouth gaping wide like the gates of hell.
"Mama, please calm down!" Perospero said quickly, cold sweat dripping down his neck. "We can't lose Katakuri. There'll be plenty of chances to kill that Marine and restore your honour!"
If Katakuri died, their strength would be crippled, and their siblings' loyalty would crumble. Perospero's bond with Katakuri ran deep—they had fought side by side in the crew's early days.
"Mamamama! Very well. I'll spare you this time. But bring me that Marine's head, Katakuri!"
Big Mom ceased channelling her Devil Fruit power. As erratic as she was, she could rein in her emotions when necessary. After all, no Emperor of the Sea reached such heights without cunning.
"Yes, Mama."
—New World, G-5 Base—
"Hahahaha! Atlas, my boy, you did it! That old hag Big Mom must be losing her mind right now!"
The booming voice could belong to no one but Garp, who was enthusiastically pounding Atlas on the shoulder.
Meanwhile, Atlas stood before Vice Admiral Tsuru, giving a detailed mission report. She listened intently from behind her desk.
Beyond the Marine walls, the New World began to shift. Dark undercurrents stirred…
In the Pirate Alliance territory, the sky hung oppressively dark. The island was a mire of swamps, buzzing with clouds of mosquitoes.
"Hey! Blood Scythe, why do you always pick such gloomy places?" grumbled a dark-skinned giant, towering over five meters tall.
"Yeah, what a crude fellow," added a bald man in a mismatched gentleman's suit. "We should've gone somewhere with a sunny beach."
"Hmph-heh-hahaha! Yermak! Klaus! You two complain too much! I rather enjoy the feeling of mosquitoes freely sucking blood…" sneered a sinister-looking man with an aquiline nose.
This was Blood Scythe Rackham.
"Alright, enough arguing," Francis cut in. "Let's get to business. Have you seen the papers?"
"You mean the one about that Marine rookie killing Oven?" Klaus asked. "And how even Katakuri couldn't beat him?"
"Heeheeheehee! Our chance has come!" Rackham stood abruptly, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "If we take down just one of the Emperors, we could become the undisputed rulers of the sea!"
Francis studied him with a peculiar expression, suspecting they shared the same ambition.
"Blood Scythe," said the gentlemanly Yermak, "it's only because our four crews are allied that we can even stand against them. And even then, we're barely holding our ground."
"How ignorant!" Rackham snapped back. "Can't you see the Marines' strategy? First, the Whitebeard Pirates, now the Big Mom Pirates. The Marines are determined to wipe them out! We have no path of retreat!"
"Whitebeard is the world's strongest man. How can we provoke that sleeping lion?" Klaus shot back, fully aware of the enormous power gap.
"The Big Mom Pirates," Francis said at last, his calm words landing like a bombshell.
"Reason?" Yermak asked sharply.
"According to my intel, that old hag Big Mom is currently pregnant, which must be severely limiting her strength," Francis explained. "Her son Oven is dead, and most of her other children are still too young and weak."
"This is the most vulnerable they've ever been. Kaido's Wano is too fortified to attack, and the Whitebeard Pirates are at full strength."
He leaned forward, his voice heavy with promise. "Once we take down the Big Mom Pirates, we can seize their position! And I've heard Big Mom possesses a Road Poneglyph. The treasure of the Pirate King will no longer be beyond our reach!"
Silence fell before Yermak gave a cold laugh. "And then we'll just get rounded up by the Marines and rot away in Impel Down?"
"Don't worry," Francis replied smoothly. "The Marines are likely tied up with Whitebeard—they won't have time for us. Besides, when did we become so timid? This might be our last chance!"
He was right. They were pirates, and pirates were gamblers by nature. This time, they were wagering their lives. The risk was immense, but the reward was a firm foothold in the New World.
"Heeheeheehee! I'm in!" Rackham was the first to agree.
"Damn it! I'm betting on this!" Klaus barked.
"…I have no objections…" Yermak conceded.
"Excellent," Francis said. "Now, let's discuss our plan of attack."
Aboard the Brutal Bear, flagship of the Brutal Bear Pirates, Francis sat alone in a dimly lit room. On the table before him rested two Den Den Mushi—one ordinary, and one white, specially modified to prevent wiretapping.
…Buru buru buru…
"Hey! Francis, how are things? I'm still keeping that Calamity spot open for you!" As the call connected, the Den Den Mushi sprouted two horns.
"Don't worry, it's going smoothly, Lord Kaido," Francis answered evenly.
"Good…" Kacha. The call ended. Francis showed no irritation. Instead, he picked up the other Den Den Mushi.
…Buru buru buru…
"How is it?" came the voice on the other end.
"Sir, everything is progressing as planned. Thanks to that Marine rookie, I'll be able to infiltrate the Beasts Pirates once this is over…"
"Excellent. Don't squander the Zoan-type Bear-Bear Fruit, Ancient Model, we gave you. Once your undercover mission is complete, you'll move directly to CP0. Do not expose yourself—you know the consequences of failure…"
"Yes, sir!" Clack. The line went dead once more.
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