The courtyard fell into an absolute, solemn quiet; not a single retainer found the leverage to voice a counter-argument, fully integrating the immense historical weight behind Kin'emon's declaration. During their grueling ascent to the coordinates of Oden Castle, Zoro had already downloaded the full summary of their twenty-year timeline of suffering into Nami's database. Staring at the uneven rows of dilapidated, weathered grave markers scattered across the ruins, the tragic isolation and grief that had consumed Wano Country for two decades became a visceral reality. These ghosts of the past had literally bridged the constraints of space-time solely to honor the ancient directive of their fallen lord, standing tall once more to face the monumental barrier that was a Yonko.
"Inuarashi and Nekomamushi should be closing in on our coordinates shortly; dispatch a runner to accelerate their arrival loops," Kin'emon commanded, his face tight with tactical urgency. "A macro-war could detonate at any given microsecond. The operational variables have completely breached the threshold of our control."
"We must maintain a one-hundred-percent combat-ready configuration at all times!"
"Furthermore, regarding Ashura Doji—we must lock onto his position and re-enlist his blade!"
"Initiate all deployment vectors immediately; the sands of time wait for no man."
"Understood!" Raizo and Kanjuro barked in absolute alignment.
"Our current logistics display a critical deficit in baseline provisions and armaments," Kin'emon noted, turning his focus toward the navigator. "Nami-dono, can I entrust the procurement of high-calorie food supplies to the Straw Hat Pirates?"
"Consider it handled!" Nami nodded firmly, accepting the operational task.
"Leave the calculations to us!" Chopper added, his face a mask of absolute, professional gravity.
Standing adjacent to the vanguard, Sanji and Zoro offered zero systemic objections to the arrangement.
"Law-dono..." Kin'emon continued, shifting his gaze to re-frame the equation with the surgeon.
"I grasp the parameters," Law replied smoothly, his fingers resting calmly against the scabbard of Kikoku clutched in his arms. "Leave the sourcing of military-grade weaponry under my jurisdiction."
"Your cooperation yields immense strategic value; you have our deepest gratitude!"
"Let us execute our respective movements. Our cell will advance to track Ashura Doji and consolidate fresh blades, while the infrastructure for weapons and provisions remains anchored to your teams!" Kin'emon declared. With that final data input, the remaining retainers of the Akazaya Nine lowered their frames into a profound, respectful bow before the allied pirates.
"Why create such an artificial linguistic barrier between us, Kin'emon? Our factions operate under a verified alliance of friendship!" Nami chided gently, her tone laced with absolute sincerity.
"Indeed!" A soft, proud smile finally broke through the samurai's stoic features.
"Shihihihi!" The members of the Straw Hat crew raised their thumbs in a synchronized gesture of absolute assurance before turning on their heels to chart their respective deployment routes.
"Our unit is exiting the grid as well," Law dropped the short notification line, pivoting his frame to slip into the brush.
With the alliance partners actively dispersing, only the core loyalist cells remained in the courtyard. Raizo stepped to the vanguard, logging his specific objective: "I shall initiate a high-speed infiltration into the Udon sector; my scanners indicate verified data logs placing a specific ally within those walls."
"Excellent!"
Following his departure, only Kin'emon and Kanjuro occupied the ruined sector.
"Kanjuro, we move out!"
"Right behind you."
The exact microsecond Kin'emon turned his back, breaking the direct line of sight, the submissive facade on Kanjuro's features dissolved completely into a dark, calculating grimace. An independent, active Yonko-tier faction entering the hot zone to explicitly provide military leverage to the Akazaya loyalists was a catastrophic variable for his true masters.
This completely breaks our defensive projections. I must transmit these raw encrypted intelligence files to the high command immediately.
The Udon Sector - The Prisoner Mines
High in the upper atmosphere, Marco scaled his transformation parameters, maintaining his graceful Phoenix form as he glided silently toward the fortified parapets of the penal colony. Peering down through the heavy haze, he executed a swift real-time sweep of the internal layout.
The diagnostic layout of the Udon facility returned a high concentration of confined inmates, whereas the actual military garrison operating the guard loops sat strictly at a baseline minimum required to maintain order. To an infiltration strike team, this data was highly optimized.
"Accelerate your output, you worthless scum!" A series of harsh, mechanical barks resonated across the massive stone quarries as the overseers patrolled the grid. The continuous, violent cracking of high-voltage whips functioned as a permanent psychological nightmare for the labor force.
Crack! Snap!
As the leather leather tore against the parched stone, the trembling waves of pure terror rippled through the broken bodies of the laborers. Yet, a single, defiant signature within the basin completely rejected the compliance algorithms.
Before the guards could mount a reaction, a vivid crimson silhouette blurred across the excavation zone, kicking up a massive column of dust and grit as he moved with continuous, explosive speed. Under the paralyzed, stunned glares of the inmates, the warrior effortlessly hurled a gargantuan boulder from his path, executing another high-velocity loop across the quarry floor.
"Captain" Eustass Kid!
As a veteran captain who kept a close index on the rising stars defining the Worst Generation, Marco's recognition software updated instantly. A single glance at that distinct, spiking red hair was more than enough to verify the asset's identity.
So his coordinates were forcefully shifted to this penal grid after his defeat.
Weighing the variables for a brief microsecond, Marco finalized his decision to initiate an immediate frontal assault. The combined tactical leverage backing their allied coalition possessed an absolute, crushing superiority over the local defense metrics. Attempting complex stealth maneuvers carried zero utility; a swift, high-intensity purge was the most mathematically sound route.
At this exact timeline on the board, the highest-tier combat threat anchoring the Udon facility was Queen the Plague, Lead Performer of the Three Disasters!
"SKRYAAA!"
Marco unleashed a piercing, sonic avian shriek that sliced straight through the barometric pressure of the mining pits. Spreading his blazing wings, he descended like a meteor, mapping a high-speed trajectory directly down the rows of reinforced isolation cells. He focused a dense shell of Advanced Armament Haki directly onto his razor-sharp talons.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The massive, sea-stone reinforced vault doors—engineered to withstand catastrophic structural stress—were reduced to absolute tissue paper before his infused claws, segmenting into ruined iron shards within a fraction of a millisecond.
Within a mere handful of seconds, a vast quadrant of the confinement cells had been systematically unsealed.
"Attention, prisoners of the Udon sector! Our vanguard has explicitly breached these coordinates to reinforce the Akazaya Nine and permanently delete Kaido's regime from the global ledger!"
"Your cell blocks are officially open. Suppress any erratic, disorganized panic loops; focus your parameters entirely on misappropriating the weaponry from the local guards while my unit clears the primary extraction vector!" Marco's deep, authoritative voice carried an anomalous acoustic penetration, vibrating through their eardrums to sink deep into their consciousness, refusing to fade.
"What basic scum dares compromise our security?!" A disruption of this magnitude instantly tripped the tactical sensors of the Beast Pirates garrison, and alarms blared across the complex. High-density reinforcements began flooding the primary arteries, blockading the checkpoints and gates until the egress vectors were completely choked with iron.
Staring at the massive, iron-clad wall of weaponry barring their path, the newly liberated inmates instantly froze in their tracks, their fragile morale dropping below baseline thresholds. Not a single soul possessed the psychological fortitude to advance a single inch against the line.
Vrumm...
Marco had already pre-calculated this response loop. Striking his wings violently against the air currents, he left a magnificent, glowing streak of cyan azure flames cutting across the atmosphere.
BOOM!
A catastrophic concussive blast of pure kinetic flame vaporized the entire vanguard of the guard formation, forcefully carving a pristine, wide-open highway straight through the center of their defensive dragnet!
"Keep this data hard-coded into your thoughts: survival variables manifest precisely once, and this total war holds absolute zero clearance for dead weight! Any asset whose mindset is aligned for freedom, pick up the steel flanking your path and initiate the initial bloodletting to reclaim Wano! If your system functions purely on cowardice, then remain huddled in the dirt and wait for your vital signs to expire!"
Marco fully expanded his wingspan, an immense, terrifying aura of blazing energy beginning to re-condense across his feathers.
"Heh... your distinctive signature is thoroughly logged within my database, Marco of the Whitebeard Pirates! Exactly what strategic calculations prompted a First Division Captain of your caliber to breach our borders?"
Emerging slowly from the ranks of the elite guard division was a massive, rotund biological titan. Queen the Plague had entered the field.
"The colossal blast gates sealing this perimeter were engineered with highly specialized materials explicitly designed to keep world-class freaks locked inside. Lacking my direct administrative authorization, attempting to clear that exit is a mathematical impossibility!"
"Therefore, the survival probability for every single asset in this basin remains at absolute zero!" Queen barked, leveling a freezing, murderous glare across the trembling crowd of prisoners. "Though I must admit, my curiosity parameters are spiked; why the hell is the right-hand man of Edward Newgate playing vanguard for a closed country?"
"What did he just output?! That bird-man belongs to a pirate fleet?!" The moment the word 'pirate' processed through the inmates' cognitive loops, a heavy, suffocating wave of distrust and anxiety compromised their morale.
The spectacular display of raw force Marco had deployed moments prior had offered them a glimpse of genuine hope. But he was a pirate!
To the broken psychology of the Wano citizens, the header of 'pirate' was an absolute synonym for the horrific tyranny executed by the Beast Pirates. They were all unpardonable monsters.
Furthermore, Queen's tactical evaluation of the blast gates was entirely sound; though Marco's individual stats were remarkably high, generating enough concussive output to permanently shatter those sovereign gates single-handedly was a variable outside his baseline limits.
Deep within the thick of the panicked crowd, a tiny, decrepit old man stood completely motionless, a faint, razor-sharp glint flickering within his faded eyes.
BOOM!
Right as Queen finalized his verbal taunt, a catastrophic, earth-shattering explosion detonated from the absolute rear of the facility.
The entire Udon sector vibrated violently as a colossal mountain of pulverized stone, fragmented steel, and thick black smoke erupted into the sky.
A cascade of jagged, heavy iron shards whistled through the air—the exact mangled remnants of the "indestructible" blast gates Queen had been bragging about just a second ago!
"Is that so? Because according to my sensors, this tin door possessed a durability rating that was remarkably pathetic."
As the dense curtain of smoke slowly billowed outward, two human silhouettes emerged with a slow, casual stride from the wreckage. The vanguard fighter leading the path carelessly rested a massive, gleaming golden staff across his shoulders, a look of profound, unadulterated mockery mapping across his features.
Flanking his coordinate was a graceful, slender young woman draped in a striking, ice-blue formal dress, her ethereal appearance causing the eyes of every single guard in the sector to instantly dilate in absolute shock. What an absolute, peerless masterpiece of a woman.
The allied reinforcement assets had officially matched coordinates with the zone: Locke and Ann of the Drake Pirates had arrived.