Chapter 288: The Whitebeard Pirates
Deep in the New World, on a deserted island near the Calm Belt.
A galleon, flying a pirate flag, sailed up a hundred-meter-wide river toward the island's interior.
On the ship's deck, the 1st Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Marco the Phoenix, stood at the railing, frowning at the newspaper in his hand.
"Teach..." After a long moment, Marco put down the paper, his face full of worry, and let out a long sigh.
As the galleon moved, its hull cut through the river's current, stirring up waves. The sound of its passage traveled up the river and into a large lake, alerting a shark fish-man who was training at the bottom.
He surfaced quickly, shouted a warning to a man fishing next to a whale-headed flagship, then dove back under, swimming toward the approaching galleon.
The man on the shore, his expression suddenly serious, ran into the jungle to pass on the message.
A few minutes later, the shark fish-man resurfaced, warily observing the galleon as it neared the center of the lake. But when he saw Marco on the deck, he relaxed and swam over.
With a great splash, he leaped from the water and landed on the galleon's deck. "Marco! Have the allied crews scattered across the islands answered the Old Man's call?"
His eyes were full of urgency, as if this question had been weighing on him for a long time.
Ever since the Whitebeard Pirates and their allies had scattered and fled, they had barely seen each other. Their only contact was through Den Den Mushi.
The current state of the world was so chaotic that even the Whitebeard Pirates, once at the very pinnacle, could barely make sense of it.
Big Mom and the giant Loki, both of whom were thought to be contenders for the top, had fallen one after another.
Even the Marines, who had ruled the world for 800 years, and the Celestial Dragons had lost several top-tier fighters.
Now, the Four Emperors of the New World were terrifyingly strong, their power and influence absolute. Countless pirate crews were just trying to survive in the cracks between these four mountains. The allied crews, who had once been under Whitebeard's banner but had survived the war, were no exception.
Because of this, the commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates didn't even know if these allied crews still felt any loyalty.
Marco snapped out of his thoughts and forced a smile for his comrade. "Don't worry, Namur."
"Aside from a few who couldn't survive on their own and had to join other crews, the rest of the captains remember their debt to the Old Man. They've agreed to help rescue our thousands of comrades."
Even as he said it, a shadow of doubt crossed his mind. He had noticed that a few of those allied crews had, inexplicably, grown stronger in their absence, which made him uneasy.
Those extra men... Marco mused, did the captains really train them up themselves?
Namur, the 8th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, relaxed at Marco's words, then bared his sharp teeth in a ferocious grin.
"It's great that they still feel loyal to the Old Man and are willing to help. This gives us a much better chance of saving our enslaved brothers!"
Marco nodded, his own smile strained. Though a few crews were suspicious, the majority were still as respectful to the Old Man as ever, willing to give everything they had.
But his thoughts soon returned to Teach. The forced smile vanished, replaced by that same deep-seated worry.
Namur, sensing his heavy mood, also sobered. "Marco... did something happen?"
Marco hesitated, then simply handed the newspaper to Namur. The news was already all over the seas. Anyone who left this deserted island would see it. He had no intention of hiding it from his comrades.
The galleon glided into the lake, docking alongside the whale-headed flagship. In the forest, several pirates, seeing the new arrivals, emerged to help secure the lines.
Namur took the crumpled newspaper from Marco, his heart pounding with dread, and began to read.
In an instant, he was stunned by the... very aromatic-looking... photos in the paper.
"This is... Sabaody Archipelago?! Why does it look so... disgusting?"
The photos showed the once-beautiful mangrove trees splattered with magma and a foul yellow substance. One photo, in particular, showed a giant, ten meters taller than the buildings, made entirely of this yellow... filth... swinging its massive hand.
Namur was completely bewildered, uncomprehending but deeply shaken.
Then, his gaze was drawn to two figures in the photo who were clearly elementalized.
"Admiral Kizaru, and—"
"Akainu."
"So the rumors of his execution by the Celestial Dragons were false?"
"But... why does Marco look so grim?"
Filled with questions, Namur read the text beneath the photos.
"..."
In the next second, he fell silent.
"Teach..."
"He..." Namur's disgust was replaced by a look of ashen, worried shock. "He was captured?"
"Yeah, that's right." Marco, overseeing the crew furling the sails, replied, his face grim. "This paper is from a few days ago. By now, he should be in Impel Down."
"We have to tell the Old Man. Let him decide," Namur said after a long pause. He and Marco got off the ship and headed into the forest.
A short time later, they arrived at a small cluster of wooden huts. Seeing the huts, which were already sprouting new leaves, Marco felt a pit in his stomach.
After that war, the Whitebeard Pirates had managed to regroup on Sphinx Island, but they had been hunted like dogs ever since, forced to move from one deserted island to another. This was their fourth base.
News of Marco's return spread, and the other surviving commanders quickly gathered.
"Marco, how did it go?"
"Are the other captains willing to move with us?"
Marco nodded. "Yes. Aside from a few, the rest are with us. Now, we just wait for our moment."
The commanders breathed a sigh of relief, their faces lighting up with excitement. The crew members around them let out a massive cheer.
"That's great! Our trapped brothers can be saved!"
Marco, infected by their excitement, felt some of his own gloom lift.
Just then, a hoarse, powerful voice called out from the largest hut: "Marco. Get in here."
The clearing instantly fell silent.
"...Old Man."
The sound of that pained, gravelly voice brought a look of sorrow to the pirates' faces. Several of the female nurses in leopard-print stockings teared up.
Marco walked up the wooden steps and entered the hut.
"Old Man, the medicine I picked up... it should be enough, right?"
Marco's eyes bypassed the medicines and bandages on the table, landing on the massive old man leaning against the bed.
His original height of 6.7 meters had shrunk from being bedridden. His once rock-hard muscles were now withered. His bare chest was covered in deep, caved-in scars, and one arm was ravaged by fire.
His signature crescent-moon mustache was gone. A long scar, matching the one on his chest, ran across his face, cutting through his right eye and blinding it.
But even ravaged by wounds, the man once called the World's Strongest, Whitebeard, still possessed an incredible presence.
His one good eye looked at Marco, filled with a deep, paternal love. "Gurararara... There's still a month or two's worth left. It's enough."
Whitebeard pushed himself up, looking at the IV drip, feeling the weakness in his own body. His eye filled with apology.
"I'm sorry, Marco. I don't think I can protect you all much longer."
"It's okay, Old Man." Marco took a deep breath, fighting to keep his emotions steady. "You've already done your best."
Whitebeard smiled, deeply moved. He picked up a glass of water, swallowed a few pills, and asked, "Those children of mine... the ones we were separated from. Are they still willing to fight with us?"
Marco repeated what he had told Namur.
"..."
"Is that so?" Whitebeard's eye gleamed. His sons had not abandoned him in his moment of weakness. For a father, there was no better news.
"Gurarara—"
Marco, seeing his captain's smile, felt a small weight lift. But then he remembered the suspicious crews, and his brow furrowed. "Old Man, something's... off... about a few of the allied crews who answered the call."
"Off?"
"Their strength has increased, and they've trained a lot of new, strong officers."
Whitebeard's expression turned somber. "They've likely been replaced." His gaze sharpened. "Are the captains... still the same men?"
"Yes, the captains are the same men who joined us back then."
Whitebeard was silent for a long time. "...They must have betrayed us," he finally sighed. "If you could see something was wrong at a glance, they, who are with them every day, must have as well. The fact that they've allowed those people to stay in their crews says it all."
After sailing for over fifty years, Whitebeard had seen it all. He understood the situation instantly.
Marco was stunned. He pulled out a Den Den Mushi. "If that's the case, I'll contact the loyal crews immediately and change the rendezvous point."
"No," Whitebeard stopped him. "You'll tip them off."
His eye filled with a sad weariness. "After our rescue plan succeeds... let them stay behind with me and Teach. We'll cover your escape."
"After that... Teach will inherit the Whitebeard Pirates and protect you in my place."
To a pirate, betrayal was an unforgivable sin. But to Whitebeard... as long as they hadn't directly harmed his family, they could be forgiven. He would wait until the World Government spies among them were dead. If the traitorous captains repented, he would use his life to ensure their escape.
Marco's heart grew heavy. He knew this was his captain's plan. But hearing him say it again... and now, Teach, who had made a special promise with the Old Man to stay behind with him...
After a long silence, Marco handed the newspaper to his captain.
"Old Man... Teach was captured at Sabaody Archipelago. He ran into Kizaru and Akainu. He didn't make it out."
Whitebeard's face darkened. He said nothing, simply taking the newspaper and unfolding it.
"..."
After a long time, he set the paper down. "Teach... it seems you won't be able to fulfill our promise. Sorry... when you get out, you'll have to find the Tremor-Tremor Fruit on your own."
He looked up at Marco. "After you all successfully escape and recover... go rescue Teach. Since he's in Impel Down, the Marines won't kill him easily. There's still a chance."
"But... you'll have to rely on your own strength to save your brother."
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