"Marco, I've had enough of that stupid pineapple head of yours!"
Somewhere near a remote island in the New World...
A colossal pirate ship, massive like a whale, and even shaped like one, was docked at the island's shore.
Anyone from the New World who stumbled across this scene would likely drop their eyeballs in shock, pick them up in a panic, and run for their lives.
Because this ship bore a name that struck fear into all, the Moby Dick.
And aboard this ship was none other than one of the Four Emperors, the man hailed as the strongest in the world, Whitebeard, and his pirate crew!
On deck, a gathering of powerhouse pirates, each capable of shaking the world with a mere stomp, stood with arms crossed, gazes locked onto the two figures facing off on the island.
"Pops... Are you sure it's okay to let them go at it like this?" asked Namur, a short and stocky shark fishman with an upright fin of hair that stood tall without any gel. He was the 8th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Seated on a massive throne-like chair was Whitebeard, once hailed alongside Pirate King Roger and Golden Lion Shiki as one of the three legendary pirates. Despite his towering 7-meter frame, he was connected to IV drips and oxygen tubes, his body frail and worn by illness.
But to Namur's concern, Whitebeard simply let out his signature thunderous laugh:
"Gurararara…"
"No need to worry. Let those two have their little squabble."
"It's been a long time since this ship has seen such excitement. Gurararara!"
Even as life-support equipment hung from his body, Whitebeard's presence was undiminished, his Mental Power vast and unyielding. Looking at Ace and Marco below was like watching two sons fight for attention. His smile was that of a kind, proud father.
─────────🏴☠️────────
Marco looked at Ace, helplessly amused, as if dealing with a child.
"Oi, oi, Ace!"
"If you're gonna challenge me, at least give a decent reason!"
"What do you mean pineapple head, you bastard?!"
Ace, unfazed by the protest, flipped Marco the bird, stuck out his tongue, and shouted:
"Asshole! I just don't like you!"
"Today, I'm taking you down and claiming the First Division Commander seat!"
"Tch!"
Marco sighed, still wearing the look of someone too mature to take it seriously.
"It's just a title, Ace."
"If you want it that badly, I'll give it to you..."
But the carefree attitude only seemed to fuel Ace's fire. He suddenly roared:
"Spare me your charity!"
"I don't want a title you hand over, I want to beat you fair and square!"
"That way, I'll be the rightful heir to the Whitebeard Pirates!"
"And the day Pops steps down, that'll be the day I become the Pirate King!!!"
"Pops!!!"
Ace's bold declaration caused an uproar across the Moby Dick. The pirates all turned to Whitebeard, voices raised in shock and protest.
Among the crowd, a man with a wild mane of black hair and rugged clothing watched silently, eyes gleaming with curiosity and something else unspoken.
"Gurararara…!"
Whitebeard, rather than angered, broke into hearty laughter once more.
Then, in a shocking move, he yanked out all his IV tubes, grabbed his mighty naginata, and thrust it skyward. His presence surged, an aura so overwhelming it seemed to command the heavens themselves.
Even the clouds seemed to retreat, leaving the sky clear in reverence.
With a thunderous voice, he declared:
"Ace!
If you can defeat Marco today, then the title of First Division Commander will be yours!"
"Gurararara!"
The might of his voice echoed like thunder, rumbling through the skies and shaking every heart on board.
So powerful, so commanding, none could help but be awed.
"You hear that, Marco?!"
"Pops has given the word! Prepare to get wrecked! Hahahahaha!"
Ace laughed wildly, as though victory was already in the bag.
Marco's demeanor shifted, his playful expression turned cold. Head lowered, voice deep, he spoke solemnly:
"Ace."
"If you want the title, I'll gladly give it to you. You're family. There's nothing to fight over between us."
"But, "
"But you… should never… covet Pops' place!!"
With those words, Marco exploded into motion. His body transformed into a majestic blue phoenix, burning with ethereal flames.
His talons turned pitch-black, coated in a thick layer of Armament Haki. He soared straight at Ace with incredible speed.
"Hmph! About damn time!"
Ace scoffed, unimpressed.
In a flash, his own arms turned obsidian with Haki. He launched them back, then snapped them forward.
"Rubber–Fire Cannon–Smash!!"
His limbs stretched out, recoiling with such force that they tore through the air, igniting twin blazing trails of fire as his fists rocketed toward Marco.
BOOM!!
The punch landed squarely, forcing Marco's phoenix body back into semi-human form. Though humanoid again, his arms remained beastly, and his face twisted in pain.
Blue flaming wings flapped rapidly to stabilize his body, refusing to give ground.
His chest caved inward with the force of the blow, two deep impressions left by Ace's fists.
The arms snapped back with a sharp "pop-pop!", returning to normal.
One strike, and Ace had dented the mighty Marco.
A clear testament to Ace's growing power.
This was no bluff. Ace wasn't just barking, he came to win.
But the young Ace hadn't anticipated what happened next.
Blue flames suddenly ignited over Marco's wounds, healing them in seconds.
Just like a Logia user's regeneration, but different.
His injuries completely vanished, skin unblemished.
With a powerful flap of his wings, Marco surged through the air, closing the gap between them like a missile.
"What, ?!"
Ace barely had time to react before Marco, wreathed in black Haki, delivered a brutal kick to his jaw, launching him skyward.
And he wasn't done.
Marco zipped above him in a flash, using his wings to twist mid-air into a full 360-degree flip.
His leg, wrapped entirely in Haki, swung down with terrifying speed, force, and weight.
"AGHH!!"
Ace's abdomen crumpled from the strike. Blood gushed from his mouth as his body plummeted like a meteor.
BOOM!!!
The impact gouged a massive crater in the earth. Dust and debris filled the air, hiding the aftermath from view.
Hovering above in half-beast form, Marco calmly called down:
"Ace!"
"You underestimated me, didn't you?!"
"I'm a rare Mythical Zoan user, the Bird-Bird Fruit: Phoenix form!"
"Any wound I take gets surrounded by the Phoenix's Rebirth Flame and heals instantly. Your attacks… are useless!"
"You can't win against me like this!"
"Cough, cough…"
From within the dust cloud, the sound of coughing emerged.
As the haze cleared, Ace stood up from the crater, battered and dirt-covered, but defiant.
His eyes still blazed with fighting Mental Power.
Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, he glared at Marco above and shouted:
"Don't act so smug, Marco!"
"So what if you landed a hit?!"
"And don't forget, your regeneration has its limits!"
"That's right!" Marco answered, still circling above.
"But tell me this, do you even have what it takes to push me to that limit?"
Truth be told, Marco wasn't boasting.
He may not be the strongest in offense or defense…
But when it came to taking hits?
Even an Admiral couldn't match his endurance.
"Tch!"
Ace spat out a blood clot, refusing to respond further. Instead, he suddenly dropped into a stance, one fist pressed to the ground, and whispered softly:
"Sorry, Luffy."
"This fight... is worth everything I've got."
With that, his legs compressed like springs, muscles layering in folds.
Blood surged through his veins like it had been jet-propelled.
Steam hissed from his body. His skin flushed crimson, as if boiling from within.
Ace looked up, eyes gleaming with light from his accelerated blood flow, and growled:
"Second Gear!"
BOOM!
The moment he said it, he vanished.
The ground reacted a second later, exploding in shattered stone from the sheer force of his departure.
Ace reappeared behind Marco in an instant, so fast, even the phoenix didn't notice.
"Hey!"
Grinning with a mouth full of gleaming teeth and eyes blazing like wildfire,
His steam-wreathed fists multiplied into a flurry of fiery afterimages, like a sky full of stars, raining down on Marco with overwhelming speed and force.
Heat warped the air, forming a blazing sphere.
At its center, Marco endured a relentless storm of punches.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!
In that moment, the world seemed to contain only one sound:
Fist against flesh.
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