Chapter 299: Back to the Leaf
The group event's final day wrapped up with Marco knocked out cold, badly wounded, and Kaguya Shinomiya without so much as a scratch on her.
The two of them had clashed for less than half an hour—but for the entirety of that half hour, Marco had been completely and utterly outclassed.
Just how badly? His prized Devil Fruit power, his hand-to-hand skills, everything he had—next to Kaguya, it all looked like a child's game of pretend.
Marco had gone all-out this time, no question. Before he blacked out, he'd have sworn he was pulling out combat performance he'd only ever managed once before, in a true do-or-die fight.
And yet reality had a brutal lesson for him: no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how much he poured into it, he hadn't managed to so much as touch a single hair on that black-haired girl's head.
If Marco's Devil Fruit power weren't the particular kind it was—a Mythical Zoan, the Phoenix-Phoenix Fruit, capable of self-healing even fatal wounds—he'd have died more times over than he could count by now.
His collapse wasn't just from the beating itself, either. It was Devil Fruit overuse on top of it.
Exhaustion, fatigue, and pain, all three compounding at once—and that combination finally dropped him.
Exhausted after only half an hour? Did that mean Marco, First Division Captain, just didn't have much stamina to speak of?
Not at all. Marco's endurance was genuinely excellent. The reason he'd burned through his reserves in half an hour was that Kaguya had landed an unrelenting stream of terrifying attacks on him that entire time.
Forced to keep self-healing over and over, his stamina drained like a faucet nobody remembered to shut off—until it simply ran dry, all at once.
This particular "friendly spar" hadn't exactly been quiet, either. Given the caliber of both fighters, of course it hadn't.
The rest of the Whitebeard Pirates' division captains had watched the whole exchange between Marco and Kaguya unfold, and every single one of them had been left absolutely slack-jawed.
Hard to even process—Marco, their First Division Captain, getting completely dominated by a girl who looked barely into her teens, with next to no ability to fight back!
And keep in mind, within the Whitebeard Pirates, Marco's strength ranked second only to Whitebeard himself. Setting Pops aside, Marco was the strongest member of the entire crew.
His Devil Fruit power, combined with his sheer stamina, gave him ferocious combat strength and near-endless staying power in a fight.
And yet this same monstrously powerful man had lasted a grand total of half an hour against one black-haired girl.
...
"Marco? Marco? Pops! Looks like Marco's finally starting to come around—he's been out cold for the better part of a day now, but he's finally stirring."
"Gurararara? The boy's waking up, is he? Told him not to underestimate anyone, didn't I!"
"Can't believe Marco actually lost that easily. That girl's seriously strong."
"Oh, real convenient, saying that now after the fact—weren't you the one saying earlier Marco had this in the bag?"
"Wait, am I the only one who has no idea what actually happened here? Feels like I missed a whole chunk of the story!"
"Eh, long story short—Marco asked one of Pops's friends for a friendly spar, got absolutely wrecked, and passed out."
"Yikes!"
"..."
The faint murmur of voices slowly drifted into Marco's ears, and his hazy, half-formed consciousness gradually clawed its way back to full awareness.
The flash of that fight replaying behind his eyes jolted him fully awake in an instant—his eyes snapped wide open, and he sat bolt upright.
Only for a wave of pain to hit him a split second later, his face twisting into a wince. "Ow—ow ow ow, ow!!"
With barely any stamina left to draw on, he couldn't even tap into his Devil Fruit power to heal himself properly.
Blinking his eyes open, Marco found himself surrounded by familiar faces—Pops among them, along with Ace, Vista, and the rest.
"I...got knocked out by that girl, didn't I? Right, of course I did. That kind of overwhelming power—facing her felt exactly like facing Pops himself, completely helpless. Terrifyingly strong. Strong enough it's genuinely a little demoralizing."
Fully awake now, Marco let out a long breath and forced a rueful laugh. "Guess I finally understand what you meant, Pops, about there always being someone stronger out there, no matter how strong you think you've gotten. And here I used to lecture Ace with that same line, back in the day—turns out I'd gotten a little arrogant myself without even noticing."
A hand landed on Marco's shoulder, and Ace's curious voice cut in. "Marco, was she really that good? Looked to me like you never even got a real hit in the whole time."
Marco glanced at the hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "No, I did land hits. But every single time, she beat me to the punch first. I never stood a real chance against her."
He paused, then added, "With her level of strength, she could go it completely alone out in the New World and still put together a crew that'd rival Red-Hair, Kaido, Big Mom—any of them, easily."
"Gurararara! Well now that you finally know how weak you all really are, Marco—starting today, Pops is gonna put you rotten kids through some real training! Can't have you all growing up as hothouse flowers, now can we!"
"Pops, that's a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it? None of us are exactly hothouse flowers."
"Gurararara! Well then, Ace, how about you spar with old Pops yourself for practice?"
"Eh? Ahaha! Beautiful weather we're having today, huh, Marco, wouldn't you say?"
"Real smooth, Ace...don't go changing the subject while I'm still laid up here. Anyway, Pops—where'd your friends all go?"
"Gurararara, they already headed out this morning. Plenty of things all of them needed to get back to handle."
"I see..."
"..."
Just as Whitebeard had said, the three-day group event had already run its course, and the Dimensional Chat Group's members had gradually filtered back out, returning to whichever worlds they'd crossed over from.
And the event's grand gift boxes had already been delivered into every single member's hands—everyone had received their New Year's gift box, no exceptions.
Even Hoshino Hinata and Master Roshi, the newest additions to the group who'd barely joined a month prior, were no exception.
Long since returned to the Hidden Leaf Village, Ryū had no idea what was still unfolding back in the One Piece world.
He had no idea that Kaguya's little demonstration had left the Whitebeard Pirates' division captains genuinely humbled, for the very first time, by just how weak they really were by comparison.
Right now, Ryū sat cross-legged on his soft bed, an unmistakable look of anticipation on his face.
Beyond the few days of downtime, a group event's real bonus was always the gift box waiting at the end.
Last time, he'd pulled two Breakthrough Cards and several thousand Points out of his box. No telling how his luck would run this time.
If things went well, Ryū was hoping for another Skill Breakthrough Card of his own—that would be about as perfect an outcome as he could ask for. Though, of course, it all came down to luck in the end.
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