Chapter 19: Encountering Whitebeard at His Peak
In an instant, the air on the warship solidified.
"Wh-Whitebeard!!" The HQ Ensign's binoculars slipped from his grasp, clattering loudly on the deck. His face turned a ghastly white, his lips trembling uncontrollably.
"Why... Why is Whitebeard on a Marine patrol route...?"
At Garon's side, the sea breeze itself suddenly felt impossibly sharp, as if it were cutting his face. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination. That mountain-like figure in the distance was just standing there, yet it felt as if the weight of the entire ocean was pressing down on his chest.
"All hands, General Quarters!" the Ensign suddenly shrieked, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeal. "Contact HQ immediately! Open the red emergency channel! We are about to engage... 'Whitebeard' Edward Newgate, one of the strongest men in the world!"
The deck instantly exploded into chaos.
Marine soldiers scrambled like headless chickens. Someone knocked over an ammo crate, sending brass bullets rolling everywhere. The comms officer stumbled as he sprinted for the cabin, tripping over his own feet.
"Warrant Officer Garon, please return to your post!" The Ensign looked at the man who was supposedly heading for a promotion at HQ, the man with the white-bandaged sword. His throat bobbed, and his back was already completely soaked in a cold sweat.
"That is a monster who can create tsunamis, Warrant Officer Garon!"
Hearing the Ensign's voice, Garon shifted his gaze away from Whitebeard and glanced sideways. The "HQ elite's" current state was a stark contrast to the West Blue soldiers who had seen him off at the port three days ago.
He suddenly remembered Commander Asahi's face, streaked with tears and snot.
Heh. Not much difference between them right now.
"Distance 1.5 nautical miles!" the lookout's voice trembled. "They are not showing signs of accelerating!"
"Warrant Officer Garon, please..."
The sounds in his ears faded away. Garon's gaze returned to the distant figure, and his pupils contracted to the size of pinpricks. His right hand instinctively rose, gripping the hilt of Eight Desolations.
At this moment, his entire world had narrowed to that single, mountain-like silhouette.
Whitebeard stood casually on the bow, his white coat snapping in the wind. He wasn't even looking at Garon's warship.
"Whitebeard..." Garon suddenly realized he was trembling. It wasn't fear. It was... excitement.
He had already drawn Eight Desolations from his back. Vibration particles were gathering in his right hand without him even thinking about it.
"I... I actually want to experience... the world's strongest..." A stiff, manic grin pulled at Garon's lips. Cold sweat ran from his temple to his jaw.
"Attack!" Garon laughed out loud. But just as he did, a sudden pulse came from Eight Desolations.
Zheng!
A clear, ringing sound from the blade cut through the chaos, bringing a sliver of clarity.
Garon looked down at the vibrating sword. The blood that had been frozen by the pressure was suddenly boiling again. His trembling fingers tightened their grip.
The deck beneath his feet began to thrum. The Marines who had been watching Garon all took an involuntary step back, a new "vibration" filling the air.
"Warrant Officer Garon! Are you insane?!" The Ensign's desperate scream became distant. The only sound in his ears was the pounding of his own heart.
...
A short distance away, on Whitebeard's ship.
As Whitebeard's "first son," a young, pineapple-headed Marco had also noticed the Marine warship.
"Oyaji, I told you from the start we shouldn't have taken the Marine route."
"Gurararara!" Hearing Marco, Whitebeard let out a laugh. "But we're already here! Sengoku and Garp can't be here, right?"
"Oyaji, you..." Marco pursed his lips. He knew Whitebeard was just out "looking for sons," but they could have at least avoided unnecessary trouble.
"Alright, alright." Now that he had a family, Whitebeard actually enjoyed Marco's nagging. It made him happy. "Marco, I'll..."
Whitebeard hadn't even finished speaking when his powerful Observation Haki detected an abnormal surge of fighting spirit, aimed directly at him.
He grabbed his Murasakumogiri, spun around, and stared at the warship—or rather, stared directly at Garon, who was standing on its bow.
"Oyaji..."
"Marco, there's a very interesting guy on that ship!" Whitebeard's lips split into a grin, which turned into a booming laugh. "Gurarara! To dare to show that kind of aura to me! Don't hide it anymore!"
...
Back on the warship.
The moment Whitebeard's gaze finally fixed on him, Garon felt a jolt of electricity shoot from his spine to the crown of his head.
It wasn't the fear of being targeted by a predator. It was a thrill.
He suddenly understood why a moth flies into a flame.
"WHITEBEARD!!!" Garon's roar tore through the sea wind.
The bandages on Eight Desolations suddenly disintegrated on their own, the grey-white fragments hanging in the air like a swarm of deathly white butterflies, every edge shimmering with a vibrational arc powerful enough to cut space itself.
"Gurararara... Marine brat, stand firm!"
Whitebeard's thunderous laugh cut through the waves. He casually swung his right arm, and the entire ocean trembled with the movement. Then, with a KRAK!, the air in front of him shattered like a giant glass dome collapsing under unbearable pressure.
A shockwave tore through the air, crushing everything in its path as it rocketed toward Garon's warship. Where it passed, the surface of the sea was violently compressed and ripped apart, leaving a temporary trench in the water.
(This "normal shockwave," one he would rarely even bother to use during the war at Marineford, was nothing more than a flick of the wrist for the Whitebeard of today.)
Garon's pupils shrank. He clenched his left fist, which was already blazing with condensed vibration particles. The particles shrieked, letting out a high-pitched whine from between his fingers.
As his arm carved an arc through the air, identical to Whitebeard's, everyone froze.
The instant the two shockwaves collided, the world lost its sound.
KACHA... BOOM!!!!
The two opposing forces of vibration met in mid-air. The space twisted, and in that instant, the atmosphere was completely sucked dry. The resulting vacuum implosion blasted a 100-meter-wide crater in the ocean, which was immediately filled by the violent in-rush of seawater, throwing up a torrential rainstorm.
Watching Garon's vibration particles cancel out his own air-quake, Whitebeard's eyebrows shot up. He slammed his Murasakumogiri onto the deck.
"Oh? The Marines have a little brat who can quake, too?"
Beside him, a young Marco stood on the bow, his pupils trembling violently. His mouth hung open, completely unable to form words. He stared, transfixed, at Garon's left arm, which was still shimmering with the light of vibration particles.
"No... that's impossible, right?!" Marco's voice was dry and hoarse, his young worldview shattered by the impact.
"Isn't that Oyaji's power?! How does he have it?!"