The air on the supply island was thick and heavy, a damp, salty mist clinging to everything and muffling the sounds of the waves. It was a disorienting, grey world, and the sudden appearance of a colossal figure emerging from the fog felt like something out of a nightmare.
He was immense, a mountain of a man with blue skin, a stoic expression, and an aura of such profound power that it felt like a physical weight pressing down on them. Several of the newer Spade Pirates instinctively took a step back, their hands flying to their weapons.
"Knight of the Sea… Jinbe?!" Skull's voice was a choked shriek, his usual eccentric confidence completely gone. The jaw of his skull mask hung open in shock as he stared at the legendary Fishman.
Jinbe's gaze swept over the crew, his eyes briefly landing on Wallace, the Scorpion Fishman they had freed from slavery. A low hum rumbled in his chest. "Hmph. So, there is another Fishman among you. You recognize me, then?"
Wallace froze, his mind struggling to process the situation. Before him stood one of the greatest heroes of his people, a figure of immense pride and strength for all Fishmen. Yet, here he was, standing as an obstacle, a clear adversary. Wallace looked from Jinbe to Ace and back again, his loyalty to the pirates who had given him his freedom warring with a lifetime of ingrained respect for the Knight of the Sea. He didn't know how to react.
For his part, Jinbe's feelings toward the Spade Pirates were a complicated storm. He had been off island during the incident at Fishman Street, but he'd heard everything.
But the debt he owed to Whitebeard was immeasurable. For years, the Emperor's flag had been the island's salvation, a symbol that kept slavers, pirates, and aggressors at bay. Whitebeard's protection was the reason his people could live in relative peace. It could be said that every citizen of Fishman Island owed their gratitude to the old man. Because of this profound kindness, Jinbe had forged a close, personal relationship with the Whitebeard Pirates, often taking it upon himself to repay that kindness however he could.
He had first taken note of "Fire Fist" Ace when the rookie brazenly rejected the World Government's invitation to become a Warlord. Then came the chaos on Fishman Island. Though he wasn't there, he had paid close attention, returning as quickly as he could. When he heard that Ace had declared his intention to challenge Whitebeard right before leaving, Jinbe knew he had to act. Their target was the benefactor of his homeland.
He had been shadowing their ship ever since, a silent blue predator in the deep. He was nearly discovered once when Jerry cast a fishing line a little too close for comfort, forcing him to dive deeper and trail them with even greater caution. It wasn't until they entered Whitebeard's territory and landed on this very supply island that he knew they were about to make their move. Now was the time to reveal himself.
His powerful voice cut through the nervous whispers of the crew, each word delivered with the weight of his conviction.
"You are the Spade Pirates," he stated, his eyes locking onto their captain. "The ones who brought chaos to Fishman Street and defeated Hody's fanatics."
He paused, a flicker of something akin to respect in his eyes. "Logically, I should thank you for what you did for my home. However, my debt to Oyaji—the kindness he has shown to me and all of Fishman Island—is far greater."
Jinbe settled into a low, powerful stance, his hands held ready. "Your target is him. And while I may not be an official member of his crew, my honor dictates that I cannot stand aside. If you wish to challenge Whitebeard, you must go through me first!"
"Oh, really?" Ace's lips curled into a grin, all tension and apprehension melting away into pure, unadulterated excitement. He couldn't care less about the man's title or reputation. All he saw was a monumental obstacle blocking his path, and a thrilling fight waiting to happen. "So you're playing gatekeeper for Whitebeard?"
He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and clear in the tense air as he stepped forward, separating himself from his crew.
Jinbe sized him up, feeling the blazing heat of fighting spirit radiating from the young man. His expression was deadly serious. "You're the upstart who refused the Warlord invitation, aren't you?"
"Warlord? Don't know anything about that," Ace scoffed dismissively, his opinion of the government-sponsored pirates already rock-bottom. Flames began to lick at his shoulders, dancing like living things. "All I know is you're in my way, big guy."
"Yes," Jinbe confirmed, his voice a low growl. "If you seek to trouble Oyaji, you will have to defeat me first!"
"Well, that settles it, then." Ace's grin widened. "Whitebeard is my goal. Let's do this!"
The air seemed to explode.
"Fishman Karate: Arabesque Brick Fist!"
In the same instant, both men lunged, unleashing their signature power without another word. The charged atmosphere shattered as fire and water met in a cataclysmic hiss.
"The fight's started!"
"Everyone, get back! Give them room!"
The Spade Pirates scrambled backward, clearing a wide circle on the sandy beach. This was a battle between titans, and the fallout alone would be dangerous. The beach itself was a large expanse of pale sand that stretched out from the coast, bordered on its landward side by a dense, lush forest.
As the duel began, Ace transformed into a vortex of fire. Flames erupted from his body, swirling around him like a raging inferno, the sheer heat instantly burning away the thick fog in their immediate vicinity. He moved like a fire dragon, coiling and striking, his every motion threatening to incinerate everything in his path.
But his opponent was the Knight of the Sea. Jinbe met the fiery onslaught with absolute composure, countering with powerful techniques that commanded the very moisture in the air. He redirected, blocked, and parried, his control over water a perfect answer to Ace's flames.
For a time, the battle was a breathtaking stalemate. Water and fire clashed, one trying to extinguish the other, creating massive clouds of steam that billowed across the beach. Every punch and every kick from the two combatants showcased a level of power that left the crew speechless. It was a perfect storm, an elemental clash where neither side would yield an inch.
"Hey!" Ace shouted over the roar of their battle, a hint of amusement in his voice as he dodged a high-pressure jet of water. "Your attacks feel a lot like Jerry's!"
He had no trouble dealing with Jinbe's water manipulation; sparring with Jerry had given him plenty of practice against similar, if less powerful, techniques.
"Is that so?" Jinbe grunted, his face impassive. "It seems the Fishman Karate master in your crew is quite skilled. But I know more than just a few water tricks!"
With a sudden shift, the nature of the fight changed. Jinbe no longer relied solely on manipulating external water. His fists, now coated in a shimmering, invisible layer of Armament Haki, began to strike with bone-jarring force. The enhancement not only made his attacks exponentially more powerful but also allowed them to bypass Ace's Logia defenses and land squarely on his physical body.
In response, Ace coated his own fists in Haki. Since awakening the ability on Sabaody, he had been diligently training, developing a new fighting style that blended his fire with the raw power of Armament Haki.
The battle became clearer, more visceral. The swirling maelstrom of steam and flame gave way to the raw, percussive impacts of Haki-infused strikes. The onlookers could now see every blow, hear every sickening thud as fist met flesh in a brutal, head-on brawl.
The sheer intensity of it was terrifying. Deuce, his face pale with worry, turned to the one man who could make sense of it all. "Jerry, what's happening? Can Ace even win this? Shouldn't you go help him?"
The rest of the crew turned their anxious gazes toward their vice-captain, hanging on his every word.
Jerry, the most powerful fighter on the sidelines, stood with his arms crossed, his expression one of intense focus. He watched the brutal exchange for a long moment before finally shrugging.
"Don't worry. They're evenly matched right now. Neither one is going down easily."
He gestured toward the fight. "This is a battle of convictions, a direct clash of will. Ace needs to win this himself. He wouldn't want any of us to interfere."
A wry, mischievous smirk slowly spread across his face, the kind that always meant he was about to say something completely out of left field.
"But that doesn't mean we can't do anything," he continued, his eyes twinkling. "How about we start a barbecue? We could catch a shark, grill it up real nice… and eat it right here in front of Jinbe."