Pirate Island — Hachinosu
Once the stronghold of the Rocks Pirates, later seized outright by the legendary Pirate King Gol D. Roger, and now fallen into the grasp of Marshall D. Teach… the massive skull-shaped island lay shrouded in a suffocating atmosphere.
The colossal skull itself—formed by the Island-Island Fruit ability of "Corrupt King" Avalo Pizarro—loomed overhead, its hollow eye sockets seeming to stare coldly down at the town below.
In the island's central settlement, the once-raucous taverns and casinos had grown eerily subdued. Pirates clustered in small groups, whispering among themselves, their eyes drifting again and again toward the tallest building at the island's heart.
Inside that structure, Teach lounged deep within an oversized sofa that could seat several men. One arm draped lazily over the armrest, his ring-laden fingers tapped absently against the leather.
Compared to two years ago, he now wore a captain's hat bearing the emblem of the Blackbeard Pirates. His thick, jet-black beard had been meticulously braided into three heavy plaits that hung over his chest.
But his trademark arrogant grin was gone.
In its place—furrowed brows, and a gaze steeped in gloom.
His eyes lowered as his hand rose unconsciously to his exposed chest, scratching at the massive X-shaped scar that slashed diagonally from both shoulders down across his abdomen.
Back then… during the Marineford War…
That earth-shattering strike from Shiki…
It had come so close—so damn close—to killing him.
If not for the unique properties of the Dark-Dark Fruit, and the healing effects of the "Plague Doctor's" Mushroom-Mushroom Fruit…
He would have died long before making it back.
"Damn it!!"
Teach suddenly roared, snatching up a massive wooden mug filled with strong liquor and slamming it down onto the heavy table before him.
The cup shattered. Alcohol mixed with splintered wood, splashing everywhere. Nearby pirates instinctively shrank back, their necks tightening.
"I was this close… this close to taking that Lightning Fruit!!"
His voice ground out from deep in his throat, thick with frustration.
"That self-proclaimed 'god'…! If it weren't for Kizaru and Dracule Mihawk showing up out of nowhere… ruining everything!!"
He panted heavily, the scar on his chest rising and falling with each breath.
That plan—to seize the Lightning Fruit—had been a move he had plotted for a long time.
Among Logia types, it stood at the pinnacle of destructive power and speed. If combined with his already possessed Tremor-Tremor Fruit and Dark-Dark Fruit…
His crew's strength would truly reach an unrivaled realm.
At that point, what "Four Emperors balance"? What "Marine independence"?
All would be crushed beneath absolute thunder and seismic force.
And yet—
At the most critical moment, everything had fallen apart.
Not only had he failed… he had completely exposed his intentions of striking amidst chaos—and, worse, forged a mortal enmity with the Marines led by Gern Reginald Sigmar.
Just recalling that man's icy gaze… and the name "Heavenquake"…
Even someone as arrogant as Teach felt a flicker of unease deep within.
The hall had long since fallen silent.
Only Teach's ambition-laced words had echoed there moments before.
Now, all eyes were fixed on one man.
Kuzan.
The former admiral sat calmly, fingers tapping lightly against the frozen tabletop, his expression unreadable.
After several seconds, he finally spoke.
"Partners? Equals?"
He lifted his head slightly. Behind those round tinted glasses, his gaze seemed to pierce straight through Teach.
"Sounds nice."
A flicker of excitement stirred in Teach's chest—
But the next words froze his smile in place.
"…But why should I trust you?"
Kuzan tilted his head faintly, tone almost playful.
"A man who could betray his own 'father'—Edward Newgate—and steal his power…"
"A man who'd sacrifice his own comrades for profit…"
His eyes flicked briefly toward the frozen figure of Samuel Kronos.
"…What exactly is your promise worth?"
Teach's expression tightened for a moment—but quickly twisted back into a grin.
"That's because they weren't strong enough! Not worthy of sharing the future with me!"
"But you're different, Kuzan! You're 'Aokiji'! Your strength earns my respect… and my caution."
"Working with us is the best possible choice—for both of us!"
"Oh?" Kuzan murmured. "The best choice…"
He seemed to consider it for a moment.
"…Joining you—or cooperating—isn't impossible."
Teach's eyes lit up.
"But," Kuzan raised a finger, "I have conditions."
"First—I operate with maximum freedom beneath you. I won't be caged in someone else's territory."
"Second—you don't control me. I act as I please."
"Third—and most important…"
His gaze sharpened instantly.
"I want to know what connections you still have with the World Government… especially the Five Elders… or anything above them."
He leaned forward slightly, cold air spilling from his body.
"After attacking Enel and completely provoking Gern… what makes you think the World Government would still be your 'ally'—or something you can exploit?"
"Don't tell me you mentioned them casually."
"Marshall D. Teach… you're a gambler. But you never gamble without a winning hand."
His voice dropped.
"What card are you still holding?"
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Then—
Teach's expression shifted.
The smile returned.
"Fine."
"…Welcome."
The Shockwave Across the Seas
The news hit the world like a submerged bomb detonating beneath calm waters.
Kuzan—former Marine Admiral—had officially joined the Blackbeard Pirates as a core officer.
Even with blurred details, the truth was undeniable.
A man of peak admiral-level power… had aligned himself with one of the most dangerous pirate crews on the seas.
The threat level of the Blackbeard Pirates skyrocketed overnight.
In many factions' assessments, they were no longer merely a "Four Emperor-level power to monitor"—
But a destabilizing force capable of reshaping the world.
On Karai Bari Island, headquarters of the Cross Guild—
"This is… insane," muttered Buggy, his hands trembling as he held the newspaper, his blue nose twitching uncontrollably.
Beside him, Crocodile sat in silence, cigar clenched between his teeth, golden hook tapping the table.
"Heh… how fascinating," murmured Baron Omatsuri?—no, the elegant Redfield—swirling his wine. "The tides of this era grow ever more entertaining."
Aboard the Red Force—
Even Shanks stood silently at the bow, his usual smile gone.
"…Kuzan…"
"So you chose the shadows too…"
"…Then it's time we make a move."
On Onigashima—
"Worororo!!!" roared Kaido, smashing his sake jug. "That ice brat joined Teach?!"
"Now that's interesting!!"
In Whole Cake Island—
"Mama~ Mama~!" laughed Big Mom, cream smeared across her lips.
"That greedy mutt Blackbeard… gaining such a powerful piece."
She turned.
"Charlotte Katakuri—your thoughts?"
"Their threat level has changed completely," he replied calmly. "We must reassess."
Across the world—
The seas trembled.
New Marineford — Fleet Admiral's Office
"BANG!!"
The office doors slammed open.
A towering figure strode in—broad-shouldered, white-haired, wearing a Marine coat draped loosely over his shoulders.
Monkey D. Garp.
In his hand—a crumpled newspaper.
On his face—
Not laughter.
But disappointment.
"GERN!!"
His voice thundered through the room.
Behind the desk, Gern Reginald Sigmar calmly looked up from his documents, as if he had expected this.
"Vice Admiral Garp," he said evenly. "Have a seat."
"Sit my ass!"
Garp slammed the paper onto the desk. The surface trembled from the impact.
"Kuzan—that brat—what the hell is he thinking?! Joining Blackbeard?!"
"That bastard who kills his own, betrays his father, steals power?!"
"Did he forget who raised him?! What Marine justice means?!"
Gern listened in silence.
He understood.
Garp, Sengoku, Zephyr, Tsuru…
They had watched that generation grow.
Kuzan's departure had already been a wound.
Now this?
It cut deeper.
"…His leg was taken by Sakazuki," Gern said calmly.
"He brought that on himself!" Garp snapped, though his voice faltered slightly.
"People make their own choices," Gern replied. "Perhaps the current Marines still don't represent his idea of justice."
"Or perhaps… he has motives we don't yet see."
"Bullshit!" Garp roared. "I don't care what his reasons are!"
He inhaled sharply.
"I didn't come here to debate philosophy."
"I came to tell you—"
"I'm taking leave."
Gern's eyes shifted slightly.
"To where?"
Garp grinned.
Cold.
"Where else?"
"To pay a visit… to Blackbeard's newest officer."
"That idiot Kuzan…"
"…needs someone to knock some sense into him."
"Some mistakes can't be made."
"Some people… can't be followed."
"That's my justice."
"And my responsibility… as his teacher."
Silence hung heavy.
Then—
"…Approved," Gern said.
Garp blinked.
Gern stepped forward.
"But two conditions."
"First—you go in a personal capacity. This is not a Marine operation."
Garp frowned—but nodded.
"Second…"
Gern smirked faintly.
"…Come back alive."
Garp snorted.
"Of course I will."
"I'm Garp."
After he left—
The office fell quiet again.
Gern's gaze shifted… to another report on his desk.
Stamped:
SWORD
"…A blade, huh…"
A faint, cold smile touched his lips.
Then—
His eyes fell upon a name.
Koby.
Below it—
[Captured]
[Awaiting rescue]
Gern tapped the desk lightly.
"…Perfect timing."
"…Two birds with one stone."
"…You want to be a hero?"
His pen moved.
Sharp.
Decisive.
"…Then I'll make you one."
"…After all—"
He wrote the final line, pressing hard enough to carve into the paper:
"There is no sacrifice greater… than someone else's."