Chapter 227

"Lucci, are you ready?" I asked, my gaze fixed on the massive island looming before us. Punk Hazard was a fortress, heavily cordoned off by Marines and World Government forces.

Though Vegapunk had already relocated to his new abode in the New World, the security around this island remained ironclad. We were waiting for Doffy to arrive so we could begin our assault, but there was an undercurrent of tension that was hard to ignore.

"Yes, Master Ross. I will make sure to complete the task you've entrusted to me," Lucci replied, his voice steady and filled with resolve.

"This isn't just a task, Lucci; it's a test," I said, my tone more serious than before. "The Devil Fruit you're about to acquire… it might not have been meant for you. Even I can't fully gauge the power of the replica Vegapunk created. There's a chance it could be defective. Are you absolutely certain about this?"

I had my reservations. The fruit we were after was a gamble—a creation of Vegapunk's genius, yet also a product of his unpredictable experimentation. I couldn't shake the memory of Momonosuke's defective fruit from the canon.

The thought of Lucci, with all his talent and potential, being burdened with something equally flawed gnawed at me. Lucci was an asset too valuable to risk on a faulty experiment.

But Lucci was unwavering. "I am sure, Master Ross. I can feel it—this fruit, it calls to me. Maybe it is the one that's destined for me," he said, his voice filled with an unshakable conviction.

I studied him for a moment, weighing his words. Lucci had always been a man of few words but immense determination. His belief in destiny wasn't something he spoke of lightly. If he truly felt this fruit was meant for him, who was I to question his instincts?

Yet, the risks were real. The last thing I wanted was for Lucci's potential to be stunted by a defective Devil Fruit. His skill, his raw power—it was something to be nurtured, not hindered.

Seeing the certainty in Lucci's eyes, I couldn't help but ponder the mysterious nature of Devil Fruits, especially the Zoan types. There was a belief that Zoan fruits had a will of their own, a mind that could resonate with their chosen user.

Perhaps Lucci had already felt a connection with this fruit, something beyond my understanding. This connection might be guiding him toward a destiny intertwined with the power he was about to claim.

For now, we waited patiently on a small, rocky outcrop in the sea, a few miles away from Punk Hazard. The cold, salty air whipped around us, but our focus was unwavering. My observation haki had already scanned the entirety of Punk Hazard, giving me a clear picture of what we were up against.

The security, while formidable, was not insurmountable. We had faced worse odds before, and I had no doubt we could handle whatever the World Government had stationed there.

This assault on Punk Hazard was more than just a mission—it was our retaliation against the World Government for their attempt on my brother's life back in the North Blue. They had made their move, and now it was time for us to strike back, to show them that we were not to be trifled with. Destroying Punk Hazard would be a significant blow to their operations, a loss that would resonate through the highest echelons of power.

In the canon, Punk Hazard might have seemed like an insignificant place, a mere stepping stone in the grander schemes of the world. But here and now, it was a treasure trove of secrets, a stronghold of knowledge that the World Government was desperate to protect. Secrets that, if exposed, could shake the foundations of their control.

Within the confines of a spacious office in Punk Hazard, Borsalino—Admiral candidate Kizaru—paced restlessly, his usual laid-back demeanor noticeably absent. Something had been gnawing at him since morning, a feeling he couldn't quite shake.

Despite his reputation for being indifferent and almost bored with most situations, today was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off, and it was putting him on edge.

Originally, Borsalino was supposed to be in the South Blue, assisting with a native hunting operation, but with Admiral Agana personally making her presence in the Sorbet Kingdom, Fleet Admiral Sengoku had reassigned him to Punk Hazard.

The island was one of the World Government's most important assets, a place brimming with secrets and experimental research crucial to their global control.

The reassignment had been abrupt, and while Borsalino had initially taken it in stride, the unease that had settled in his gut was becoming impossible to ignore. It wasn't like him to be paranoid, but the feeling was strong enough to make him reconsider his usual nonchalance. Finally, after strolling around the room like a nervous cat, he decided to trust his instincts.

Borsalino reached for the transponder snail on his desk. The small creature stirred as he lifted the receiver, and after a few seconds of silence, a familiar voice crackled through the line.

"Borsalino, is something the matter?" Sengoku's calm and authoritative voice echoed from the other end, a stark contrast to the unease that Borsalino felt.

"Fleet Admiral," Borsalino began, his voice uncharacteristically serious. He started explaining things in detail: "I can't shake this feeling… Something's not right. It's just a gut instinct, but I think we might be in for some trouble here at Punk Hazard."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Sengoku responded. "Gut instinct, you say? Borsalino, you know we're spread thin right now. Most of our forces are tied up with the South Blue operation, and we don't have the luxury of extra reinforcements at the moment. Perhaps you're just on edge because of everything that's been happening lately."

Borsalino frowned, knowing Sengoku's logic was sound, but this wasn't a feeling he could ignore. "Fleet Admiral, I understand the situation, but this isn't just nerves. I've been doing this long enough to trust my instincts, and they're telling me something big is coming. I'm asking for additional forces, just in case."

Sengoku sighed heavily, his tone shifting from one of dismissal to contemplation. He knew Borsalino well—despite the vice admiral's reputation for laziness and aloofness, his intuition was nothing to take lightly.

Borsalino wasn't the type to voice concerns unless he was truly worried, and if there was one thing Sengoku had learned, it was that Kizaru's instincts were often disturbingly accurate.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Sengoku finally said, the weight of Borsalino's request sinking in.

"I am, Sengoku-san," Borsalino replied, his voice carrying an edge of urgency that was rarely heard from him. "Something doesn't feel right. If we're caught off guard here, it could be disastrous. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it was necessary."

Sengoku was silent for a moment, considering the situation. He had a deep respect for Borsalino's abilities, and if the admiral was this insistent, it was worth taking seriously. Punk Hazard was too important to risk, and if Borsalino's instincts were correct, the consequences of not acting could be dire.

"Alright," Sengoku finally agreed, his tone resolute. "I'll see what I can do. We don't have much to spare, but I'll reach out to the nearest bases and see if we can divert some forces to Punk Hazard, at least until the main fleet returns from South Blue. In the meantime, stay vigilant. If your instincts are right, we can't afford to be caught off guard."

Borsalino felt a small measure of relief at Sengoku's response. "Thank you, Fleet Admiral. I'll keep a close eye on things here."

"Be careful, Borsalino," Sengoku warned. "If something does happen, we'll need you at your best. I'll get back to you as soon as I have something."

The line went dead, leaving Borsalino alone with his thoughts. He set the transponder snail down and took a deep breath, his unease still lingering but tempered by the knowledge that Sengoku was taking his concerns seriously.

Reinforcements might be on their way, but until then, he would have to rely on his own strength and that of the forces already stationed on the island.

Punk Hazard was a fortress of secrets, a place where the World Government conducted its most clandestine experiments. If anyone was bold enough to attack it, they would be met with overwhelming force. But Borsalino couldn't shake the feeling that this time, things might be different.

As he resumed his pacing, his mind raced with possibilities. Who would dare to strike at the heart of the World Government's scientific operations? Pirates? Revolutionaries? Or perhaps a rogue element within their own ranks? The possibilities were endless, but one thing was certain—whatever was coming, Borsalino would be ready.

****

"What the hell is that???" A pirate from Whitebeard's crew screamed, his voice cracking with a mix of fear and awe. The battle between Garp and Whitebeard had been raging for hours, and only those with wills strong enough could even bear witness to the titanic clash.

Even though the fight was taking place dozens of miles away, the shockwaves were felt all the way back at their ships. The ground trembled, the air itself seemed to crackle with power, and the seas had become a chaotic maelstrom of danger.

With the pirate's outburst, those who were still conscious turned their eyes to where he was pointing. What they saw made their hearts drop—a massive tsunami, hundreds of meters high, surging toward them with terrifying speed.

The sea had been wild and dangerous, but nothing like this. Now, it seemed the battle had reached a new, more intense level, and nature itself was responding in kind.

In a shadowed corner of the deck, Teach, who had been feigning difficulty keeping himself upright, felt a cold sweat trickle down his back as he stared at the approaching wave.

"How strong is Whitebeard?!..." he thought, a mix of admiration and fear gripping him.

Whitebeard's power was beyond anything he had ever imagined, and witnessing it firsthand only fueled his greed, his obsession with obtaining the Yami Yami no Mi. The thought of wielding that power, of having the strength to stand as an equal—or better, a superior—made his blood boil with anticipation.

But as much as he yearned for that power, the presence of Garp threw a wrench into his plans. "Damned Garp!" Teach cursed internally, his teeth grinding in frustration. The Marine hero had intercepted them, preventing Whitebeard from reaching the Sorbet Kingdom.

If only Garp hadn't shown up, Whitebeard would have been focused on their mission, and Teach might have had the chance to make his move. But now, all that has been thrown into chaos.

Teach's eyes darted toward the Marine ship, his mind racing. He desperately wanted to try and incite the Whitebeard Pirates to attack Garp's ship, to eliminate the threat and seize the opportunity to advance his own goals. But his gaze lingered on the figure sitting calmly atop the dog-shaped figurehead of the Marine vessel.

"That man... " Teach thought, a shiver of doubt creeping into his mind. Bogard, Garp's right-hand man, was no ordinary opponent. He radiated a silent, deadly confidence that made Teach hesitate.

Normally, Teach would be the first to sow discord and push others into reckless action while keeping a low profile himself, but this time was different. Bogard's presence was a deterrent, a reminder that not every battle could be won with the power of Whitebeard alone.

His frustration grew as he considered the stakes. The Dark Logia fruit, the Yami Yami no Mi, was within reach. He couldn't let it slip through his fingers, couldn't let someone else claim it and wield the power he so desperately craved. But what could he do? Even with his growing ambitions, he wasn't ready to confront the likes of Whitebeard and Garp head-on. Not yet.

Teach clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he wrestled with his desperation and ambition. Every second that passed felt like a missed opportunity, a chance slipping away. The tsunami loomed closer, and the thought of losing his chance at the Yami Yami no Mi gnawed at him like a ravenous beast.

But as much as he hated it, he knew that this wasn't the time to act recklessly. He needed to bide his time, to wait for the right moment when the odds were in his favor.

The deck trembled as the massive wave bore down on them, and Teach's mind churned with schemes and plots. He would get that fruit, no matter what it took.

But for now, he would have to endure, to watch, and to wait for the perfect moment to strike. And when that moment came, not even the likes of Whitebeard or Garp would stand in his way.

"Stand back, everyone! Jozu!... Vista... with me!" Marco's voice rang out with authority, his eyes locked on the monstrous tsunami that threatened to swallow their entire fleet.

Without hesitation, he transformed into his majestic phoenix form, his blue flames burning brightly as he prepared to intercept the massive wall of water. If left unchecked, the wave would consume them all, turning the sea into their grave.

Jozu, with his body shimmering in diamond form, and Vista, the master swordsman, stood ready at Marco's side. The crew held their breath, knowing the power their commanders wielded.

They were prepared to give everything to stop this calamity. But just as Marco tensed, ready to launch himself forward, a blur of motion caught his eye.

A figure shot into the air with blinding speed, heading directly for the oncoming tsunami. It was Bogard, his blade gleaming as it caught the light. The sight was almost surreal—a lone swordsman, seemingly insignificant against the backdrop of nature's fury, daring to face a force that could level islands. The sheer audacity of it made the crew pause in disbelief.

Bogard moved with an elegance that belied the immense power he wielded. As he ascended, he drew his blade, and the atmosphere around him seemed to change. The very air crackled with energy, and for a brief moment, time itself seemed to slow down. Every eye was locked on Bogard, the weight of his presence pressing down on all who witnessed it.

Then, in a moment of absolute stillness, Bogard swung his sword.

It was as if the world itself held its breath. The blade cut through the air with a sound that seemed to resonate with the essence of the universe. In the next instant, the impossible happened. The colossal tsunami, a force of nature that should have been unstoppable, parted like a curtain being drawn. The water split cleanly in two, the cut stretching for miles in either direction, as if the sea itself had bowed to the might of Bogard's slash.

The sheer power and precision of the attack left everyone stunned. Even Marco, who had faced countless foes and survived battles that would have killed lesser men, found himself unconsciously stepping back. His eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the sight before him.

The wave, which had moments ago seemed an unstoppable force of destruction, was now divided, harmlessly passing on either side of their ships.

Jozu's diamond form glittered in the sunlight, but even his unbreakable resolve wavered at the sight of Bogard's power. Vista, being a swordsman himself , could only stare, his grip tightening on his swords. The sheer magnitude of what they had just witnessed was almost beyond comprehension.

The silence that followed was deafening. The Whitebeard Pirates, veterans and rookies alike, were all struck speechless. In that moment, they understood the true difference between them and legends like Bogard. It wasn't just strength; it was mastery, the kind that could shape the very world around them.

Marco, regaining his composure, transformed back into his human form, landing softly on the deck. He clenched his fists, his mind racing. "Who is this man? Why is someone like him not holding a higher position within the Marines…" he thought, the realization sinking in that they had severely underestimated Garp's right-hand man.

Teach, hiding in the shadows, felt his heart pound in his chest. His earlier confidence was now laced with dread. "I knew he was strong, but this… this is something else".

The hunger for the Yami Yami no Mi burned even brighter within him, but so did his caution. This wasn't just any fight; this was a battle where even the smallest misstep could lead to annihilation.

His eyes darted to Bogard again. The swordsman stood still on the figurehead, his blade now sheathed, as if what he had just done was nothing more than a casual gesture.

"How can someone be this powerful?" Teach's thoughts were frantic. He couldn't afford to wait any longer, yet he knew he couldn't act recklessly either.

The parted seas slowly began to return to their natural state, but the impression left by Bogard's strike would not be forgotten. The world now knew that there were forces at play that could challenge even the might of Whitebeard himself.

Bogard turned, his gaze briefly meeting Marco's. There was no arrogance in his expression, only calm confidence, as if to say, This is the level you must reach. Marco felt a chill run down his spine. For the first time in a long while, he questioned whether they could themselves be Whitebeard Pirates and if they were truly worthy to protect their crew against such overwhelming power in the absence of pops?.

For the first time in his life, Marco seriously considered what their crew would amount to if Whitebeard were absent.

*****

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