Marco's answer did not leave room for interpretation.
For a moment, King said nothing.
Then his expression slowly hardened.
"Marco, do you understand what you're saying?"
There was no anger in his tone, but the pressure behind the words was unmistakable. This was no longer a simple dispute between individuals. It had crossed into something far more serious.
Marco did not look away.
"I said the girl is under the protection of the Whitebeard Pirates," he replied evenly. "If the Beasts Pirates want to take her, then you'll have to be prepared for what comes with that."
His voice remained relaxed, but his eyes had sharpened.
"And while we're at it, there's something between us that should've been settled a long time ago."
The atmosphere grew heavier.
For a brief moment, even the sound of the sea seemed distant.
Then—
A loud, unrestrained laugh cut through the tension.
"Gurararara! Well said!"
The voice carried across the water with overwhelming presence.
A massive shadow followed.
Before anyone could react, a towering figure leapt from the distant ship and landed heavily on the deck. The impact caused the entire vessel to groan, the wood straining under the sudden weight as the waterline dipped noticeably.
Every gaze turned toward him.
The white crescent-shaped beard.
The massive frame.
The cloak draped over broad shoulders.
The long naginata resting casually at his side.
There was no mistaking him.Edward Newgate.
Whitebeard.
Marco's expression changed immediately.
"Dad, why are you here?" he asked, his tone losing its earlier ease. "Jozu and the others—how could they let you come out like this?"
Whitebeard waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't blame them. I came on my own."
He placed a heavy hand on Marco's shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring.
"You've already made your stance clear," he said. "As your old man, it's only natural that I back you up."
Only then did his attention shift to King.
The change was immediate.His gaze alone carried weight.
"Marco has said what needs to be said," Whitebeard continued. "What's your answer?"
King felt it.
The pressure was different from before.
This was not the Whitebeard of years later, weakened and restrained. Even now, despite age, his presence alone was enough to make resistance feel uncertain.
King remained silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"I will report everything that happened here to Kaido."
He did not argue further.
Turning away, he took to the air and left without hesitation.
There was no point continuing.
Whitebeard watched him go before clicking his tongue lightly.
"Kaido's boys have gotten dull," he said.
With that, he turned as if the matter had already ended.
"Come on, Marco. Let's head back. The banquet's still going on."
As he spoke, his gaze briefly passed over Ornn and Yamato.
"You two should come along as well," he added casually. "A party needs more people to be lively."
That was how they boarded the Moby Dick.
The difference was immediate.
As soon as Yamato stepped onto the deck, she paused, her expression shifting in surprise.
"It's so stable," she said, glancing down instinctively. "I can barely feel the movement."
Compared to the smaller sailboat they had been using, the difference was overwhelming. The ship barely reacted to the waves beneath it, maintaining a steady presence even as the sea shifted around it.
Marco, who had been walking ahead, glanced back and quickly understood.
"Wait here," he said.
Without further explanation, he spread his wings and disappeared into the ship.
A short while later, he returned carrying a small pouch.
He handed it to Yamato.
"What's this?" she asked, looking at it curiously.
"Seasickness medicine," Marco replied. "Even on this ship, new crew members have trouble when the weather gets rough."
As he spoke, he produced a bottle of rum as well.
"Take one with this. It'll help."
Yamato did not hesitate.
She took a piece from the pouch, swallowed it, and followed it with a drink.
Within a minute, the change was noticeable.
Her expression eased, the tension in her body relaxing as the dizziness faded.
She stood up carefully and took a few steps.
Although her balance was not perfect, she no longer needed support.
"It works," she said, her eyes lighting up. "This is incredible."
She reached for the pouch again, clearly intending to take more.
Marco stopped her immediately.
"Don't overdo it," he said. "Taking too much in a short time can cause serious side effects. At worst, it can affect your heart."
Yamato froze.
"...I'll be careful."
Marco nodded.
"Seasickness is something you have to adapt to over time. With your physical condition, it shouldn't take too long."
By the time they reached the main deck, a large number of crew members had already gathered.
Their attention was focused entirely on the newcomers.
Ornn remained calm under their gaze.
Yamato, on the other hand, seemed to regain her energy almost instantly.
"I know you," she said, pointing without hesitation. "You're Shanks—no, wait… you're the guy with the mustache. And you—two swords..."
She continued listing names and descriptions one after another.
The accuracy was not perfect, but it was close enough.
The crew exchanged looks, their expressions turning increasingly awkward.
These were names they had not heard in years.
Nicknames from a time when they had been far younger, long before they had taken on their current roles.
Ornn reached out and lightly pressed a hand against Yamato's shoulder.
"That's enough," he said quietly.
Marco stepped in as well, smoothing things over.
"She's heard about us from Oden," he explained. "Seems like she remembers more than we expected."
That explanation was enough to ease the tension slightly.
Marco then turned his attention to the two of them.
"We still don't know your names," he said. "And you," he added, looking at Ornn, "owe me an explanation."
Yamato answered first.
"My name is Yamato," she said without hesitation. "Kaido's son."
The reaction was immediate.
Silence fell across the deck.
Several members of the crew stared openly, caught completely off guard.
Ornn spoke next.
"Ornn," he said simply.
Then he reached into his clothing and pulled out a small piece of paper.
"A Vivre Card," Marco noted.
Ornn nodded and stepped forward, stopping in front of a specific figure among the crew.
He extended the card.
"This belongs to you," he said.
The man—Izō—stared at the slightly worn piece of paper, his expression shifting as recognition dawned.
"How do you have this?" he asked.
Ornn met his gaze calmly.
"Denjiro and the others asked me to pass along their regards."
The deck grew quiet once more.
But this time, the silence carried a different weight.