"Kurararara! As I expected! This power I've never experienced before! What an utterly exhilarating, no-regrets kind of battle!"
"Hiss... You terrifying old freak! Watch out or your brittle old bones are gonna snap!"
Despite his cold expression, Michael still found the time to respond to Whitebeard's comment.
But inwardly, he was in absolute turmoil.
He had already estimated Whitebeard's strength to be absurdly high... but after actually exchanging blows, he realized that the overwhelming power on display still far exceeded his expectations!
Damn it all!
Was Whitebeard during his peak just... too insanely strong!?
He'd fought Garp, that old coot, more than a few times!
But Garp had never put this kind of pressure on him…
He had expected to be able to exchange a couple of moves with Whitebeard.
But he hadn't expected that one move would be a probe, and the other a finishing blow!
If it were Whitebeard from the Marineford War, he could probably still win with just light injuries.
But this Whitebeard...
What a pipe dream.
He's just too strong!
Even as Michael lamented in his heart, an unconscious smile of excitement tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Deep down, he had always chased the thrill of battling true powerhouses!
This!
This was the ultimate ecstasy of existence!
Under the fierce clash between the Holy Light Slash and the Murakumogiri, the violent shockwaves blasted away all those nearby who lacked sufficient strength.
Some of them were directly knocked out, foaming at the mouth, from the Conqueror's Haki radiating off the two.
This...
This was just the residual shockwave from Michael and Whitebeard's clash.
"Kurararara! With someone like you in the Navy, looks like I won't be bored in my remaining years! To live, to fight—how damn entertaining!"
"Damn it, you're actually enjoying this fight, huh!?"
Michael gritted his teeth and snapped back.
Then he dove right back into the fray with Whitebeard.
But this time, it was purely a contest of speed and strength.
Ironically, this was where the gap between Michael and Whitebeard was the smallest—thanks to his bizarre innate talent.
Whether it was Haki quantity and application, or Devil Fruit mastery, Whitebeard was far superior to the current Michael.
But Whitebeard was clearly in the mood to play, so he matched Michael in a direct contest of raw speed and power.
This scene, however, left the Whitebeard Pirates' division commanders completely dumbfounded.
They knew their old man wasn't even using his Devil Fruit ability, but this was still Whitebeard going nearly all out, short of that.
In their hearts, their old man was an invincible force of nature. Even when fighting the Navy on equal footing, it would be against monsters like Garp, Sengoku, or Zephyr!
But now... the one matching him in a dead-even exchange was... a Rear Admiral from Navy Headquarters!?
Sure, that Rear Admiral was absurdly strong… but it still felt utterly surreal.
"Hey... Don't you think something's really off here?" Marco muttered after watching for a bit, sweat beading on his forehead as he turned to the other commanders. "Every single strike—each one is delivered with perfect technique, maximum power, and optimal speed!"
"Uh... isn't that normal?" Vista asked instinctively. "Isn't that how the old man fights?"
"But even with the old man, there are subtle variations in every swing, especially when slashing from different angles—the force application points change!" Marco shook his head, eyes locked on Michael's crazed, battle-hungry smile.
"But him... not a single deviation from start to finish. Is he some kind of monster that escaped from Vegapunk's lab!?"
...
The more Michael fought, the more alarmed—and excited—he became.
To be able to push this far against the world's strongest man—how could anyone not be thrilled?
Fighting Gion, fighting Garp… None of it compared to this.
Michael realized—this was practically a perfect…
Learning opportunity!
And so, he began to analyze Whitebeard's force application technique during every exchange.
Gradually, he started to wrap Armament Haki around the Myōjō. Seeing this, Whitebeard followed suit, letting his own Armament Haki coat the Murakumogiri—and deliberately began to showcase his application techniques and experience.
Off to the side, Garp watched this unfold, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
What the hell am I witnessing!?
That damn Whitebeard… he's actually enjoying this hunt!
He's outright feeding Michael techniques!
What is he trying to do—help Michael grow until he's strong enough to stand as his equal, and then have a full-force rematch!?
Pirates really do have screws loose in their heads!
Roger, Golden Lion, Whitebeard—they're all the same!
And Michael wasn't shy about it. Like a sponge, he absorbed Whitebeard's combat experience with frightening speed.
The results were immediate!
Whitebeard was startled to discover that in just a short span of time, Michael had already started adapting his own force techniques—using them to refine his own movements!
He wasn't blindly copying. He was using them as reference—and then developing his own methods!
In terms of combat talent, this was far more valuable than physical gifts.
"Michael, you must become even stronger!"
"Tch, I don't need you to tell me that, you old bastard... How about I give you a nice clean cut, so you can feel just how strong I am now?"
Using Whitebeard's strength as leverage, Michael suddenly pulled back, then swung the Myōjō multiple times in rapid succession.
Dozens of massive flying slashes of liquid Holy Light launched forward in an instant!
"Flower Sword" Vista's eyes nearly popped out of his skull!
Just from those dozens of flying slashes—Vista knew deep down, he could maybe take four or five… then he'd be chopped into bits.
"Kurararara! You little monster! Relying on that enormous pool of stamina and Haki to recklessly throw out attacks like that! With the battle talent you've shown, you should be far more refined—something more like… this!"
As Whitebeard spoke, he casually turned and swung once.
In an instant, the sky-filling barrage of flying slashes vanished into nothing.
And on the Murakumogiri's blade, only the very edge held a faint shimmer of Armament Haki.
More importantly—Whitebeard had intentionally pulled his strength.
The force used was even less than one of Michael's individual flying slashes.
A textbook example of skill beating brute force!
"Even if you don't know fatigue, fighting like this will only hold you back from becoming a true powerhouse! Do you think it's cool to keep flinging around that high-level Armament Haki like it's nothing? Kurararara!"
"More refined! More focused! More precise! Learn to compress—just slightly—before releasing the strike!"
If he had only been feeding moves earlier, now he was full-on teaching.
Michael tilted his head and looked at Whitebeard.
This guy… he genuinely wants his opponent to grow stronger!
Control…
Focus…
Precision…
Compression…
The next moment—another flying slash!
But this time, Whitebeard's eyes widened, and he finally poured a massive surge of Armament Haki into the Murakumogiri.
Only by going all out did he manage to erase this attack!