It wasn't that he lacked the courage. It was that he couldn't.
Whitebeard had spent a lifetime warring across the seas, yet his dream was never to become the supreme pirate of the world, nor to topple the World Government. His dream was simple, almost painfully so. He wanted a warm home.
If he marched on the Government, he might shake the highest throne in the world, but the cost to his family would be catastrophic.
And that went against the very reason the Whitebeard Pirates existed.
His thoughts drifted back decades.
Back then he was a boy, a carefree child living in a storybook world. On one brutal day he watched his parents die at the hands of Marines. From that moment his fate bent in another direction.
A pampered prince fell in an instant, and a hunted stray took his place.
He tasted destitution, grief, and a loneliness that clawed to the bone. In the small, bruised heart that remained, he longed only for a family, for the simple warmth of care.
For other children those wishes were easy to grant. For him they became a luxury most could not imagine.
...
Thinking of the scars and triumphs along the way and the empire he had carved, Whitebeard sighed. All that strength had been for one thing only: to shelter the home he built with his own hands.
"Father."
Marco the Phoenix spoke softly, tugging Whitebeard's thoughts back to the present.
"So those monstrous waves in the New World ten-odd days ago were Liuyun's doing," Whitebeard murmured. He remembered the roaring surge they had weathered not long ago. It fit.
"Father, I found more. Liuyun is acting as Fish-Man Island's patron. His strength is… ridiculous. He opened two massive tunnels straight through the seafloor at ten thousand meters. Before, ships from the Sabaody Archipelago needed to be coated and then gamble their lives against the deep to maybe reach Fish-Man Island. Now, with those tunnels, it takes a single day to go from Sabaody to Fish-Man Island. Coming back, the same. One day."
Marco's report ran on, equal parts thorough and stunned.
"Are you kidding me?"
Whitebeard shot him a look of pure disbelief.
Never mind how you'd even begin tunneling at ten thousand meters. Suppose by some miracle you did. What would hold back the ocean? What could keep that kind of pressure from crushing the tunnels flat? How would a passage stay open from the deep all the way to Sabaody without any supports?
It should take thirty to fifty years, if it were possible at all. The last time they'd gone to Fish-Man Island was a year ago. They'd coated the Moby Dick, spent more than ten days threading the abyss, and only barely arrived in one piece.
One year later, two finished tunnels spanning twenty thousand meters total?
Just reaching the Island from Sabaody had been deadly enough. Carving tunnels there? Impossible.
"Father… word is the coating trade on Sabaody is dead. The workshops are shuttering, and the coaters are packing up to head for Fish-Man Island to scrounge a living there."
Marco could feel Whitebeard's doubts, but he stuck to what he'd learned.
"Proof?" Whitebeard's gaze sharpened. "I need to see it."
He couldn't be blamed. Anyone would balk. It upended what they knew of the world.
"I have it." Marco nodded, handing over two newspapers. The first showed two towering plumes of seawater punching up from the deep, two islands lifted into the air atop the jets. The second showed Sabaody's coating district deserted, doors hanging open and streets bare.
Finally, Marco passed him a third paper.
On that front page, freshly printed, were two perfectly round openings on the open sea near Sabaody, each hundreds of meters across. The water within them was as black as the night between stars.
Whitebeard read them all in silence. When he reached the last photo, his hands trembled. His eyes went wide.
"Father?" Marco saw the shock on his face and knew then this was no rumor. Liuyun really had done it.
"Marco… this is real?" Whitebeard rasped, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks.
"What happened, Father?" Jozu stepped up, face grave. The other division commanders drew near, curiosity turning to awe as they looked. Among them, a dark-skinned, scruffy crewmate with a gap-toothed grin stared long at the printed name, eyes flickering with unknowable thoughts.
"I don't know. I wrestled those papers off another crew. I haven't gone to Sabaody myself."
"I see." Whitebeard folded the papers. "Then hear me. Do not provoke Liuyun unless we have no choice. The man alone can stand toe to toe with the Whitebeard Pirates. He is not to be underestimated. His pet, the Nine-Tails, already put Marco through hell. Whether those tunnels are his or not, whether Fish-Man Island is under his protection or not, anything tied to Liuyun is not to be touched."
The order rippled through the fleet before nightfall.
Few men earned Whitebeard's respect. Once, only Roger and the Golden Lion had stood in that circle. Now there was one more.
"Father, besides those two matters, I found one more. It's also about Liuyun…"
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