Third Person
Far across the sea, distant shockwaves split the clouds.
Villagers and Marines alike turned their heads as a titanic battle raged above the last island in the North Blue. The sound wasn't just thunder—it was something else. Something raw and personal.
In the sky, two giants collided.
One of them was Rear Admiral Shawn Newman, now known across the seas as Iron Shawn—named for the brutal, metallic glow of his reinforced Armament Haki.
The other was a relic from another time—Black Tooth Ivan, a former pirate emperor thought to be long retired. Nearly seventy, Ivan had disappeared into obscurity years ago, but the Marine database still listed him: war veteran, butcher of empires, survivor of massacres. And now, the last obstacle standing between Shawn and complete dominance of the North Blue.
Two men over three meters tall—monsters by any other definition—clashed midair with blows that carved the sky, both using a variant of Moon Walk to remain suspended as they wrestled for advantage.
Every impact sent shockwaves through the clouds.
Their fists, covered in Armament Haki, locked and rebounded. Sparks flew. Muscles tore. Neither gave ground.
Shawn – POV
He was old, but experience counted for something. Ivan was faster than expected—he moved like a man half his age. But my obsession was stronger. My will was sharper.
And I wasn't here to trade blows.
I was here to end him.
I coated my right fist in dense Armament Haki, compact and concentrated into my knuckles. A faint silver hue crept over it—not the typical black, but something more refined. It shimmered with purpose, tinged with a thread of my Conqueror's Haki, my raw ambition leaking through every motion.
I threw a punch—and for a moment, I thought he staggered.
Ivan – POV
Damn you, Shawn Newman. Curse your bloodline for birthing someone this strong.
He's not supposed to be this powerful. A rookie, a Marine—but every clash with him wears down my soul. His will isn't just strong—it's suffocating. Obsessive. It wants to bury me.
But I'm Black Tooth Ivan. I didn't survive wars, betrayals, and emperors just to fall to a man barely out of training.
He hit me with something familiar. Conqueror's Haki—too faint to knock me out, but enough to shake my core.
He shouldn't have that. Not a Marine. Not someone with ambition that wild.
But maybe that's the truth of it.
He's not a Marine. He's a force.
Still, I'm not finished. I push back. I pour everything into my fists. Every buried dream. Every scar. My Haki floods through him, into him.
He throws up blood—right into my face.
I go blind in one eye.
Damn it.
Shawn – POV
My ribs cracked. The pain flared, sharp and immediate. I tasted iron.
He had gotten through. But I wasn't done.
I focused—drilled my will into the core of my being and pushed. My fist began to glow—not just black, but silver-white, lightning crackling around it, feeding off the storm of my spirit.
The clouds overhead darkened. Thunder rumbled.
My obsession had reached the surface.
My fists moved without hesitation—one, then the other. The first slammed into his ribs, the second into his temple.
He fell.
Fast.
No resistance.
I didn't wait.
While he was still conscious but fading, I locked specially-forged sea stone cuffs around his wrists. Denser than iron. Forged for monsters like him.
Marine – POV
We watched from the ground—helpless, awestruck.
The battle had been brutal, primal. And yet, somehow… elegant.
Rear Admiral Shawn Newman descended through the sky, his body drenched in blood. But his posture was solid. Controlled.
He landed beside us, calm despite the wounds. Ivan's body hit the dirt moments later, unconscious, cuffed, finished.
I could barely stand under the weight of that Conqueror's pulse he let out mid-fight. Even now, the air still crackled with residual Haki.
He turned toward us, his eyes sharp, his breath steady.
"That," he said, smiling through the blood, "was an ordeal."
Then he wiped the blood from his mouth and added:
"Contact Fleet Admiral Kong."