Whitebeard’s Prestige
Early the next morning, the crew groggily awoke, shaking off the remnants of their drunken revelry.
In the midst of their collective haze, a small Mangrove island, surrounded by bubbles, unfolded before their eyes.
"Father, we've reached Sabaody Archipelago!" Marco, despite nursing an aching head, approached Whitebeard.
"Reached?" questioned Whitebeard.
"Bring the fleet closer to the island. Once the ships are coated, we'll head back to the New World!" Whitebeard declared.
"Yess!" Marco descended and relayed Whitebeard's orders to the crew.
As the crew members, recovering from the previous day's festivities, gradually awoke, they began fulfilling their assigned tasks.
Soon, the Whitebeard fleet arrived near the island's waters. However, both Whitebeard and the ship's commander had underestimated his infamous reputation.
Without waiting for the ship to draw closer, the people at the port spotted the fleet.
"This fleet is…" gasped the residents of Sabaody Island, shocked by the sight.
Looking up, they noticed the crescent-bearded pirate flag flying high atop the masts. The realization of the flag's significance widened their eyes in astonishment.
A chilling thought raced through their minds – Whitebeard was coming!
"It's Whitebeard's banner! Does that mean Whitebeard has come to Sabaody Archipelago?" a resident's voice quivered in fear.
As soon as those words were uttered, the onlookers snapped out of their daze. Panic ensued, and screams filled the air as people scattered in fear.
"Whitebeard is here!"
"The man who is more terrible than the devil has come to Sabaody Archipelago!"
"Run, everyone, run! If you stay, you'll be killed!"
Horrified screams echoed, and the residents, not knowing the cause initially, were gripped by fear upon hearing the name 'Whitebeard,' causing their bodies to tremble.
The bustling market turned into a ghost town within moments. Store doors closed hastily, and the once lively Sabaody Archipelago morphed into an abandoned island, devoid of any souls on its streets.
"Ah," a sharp sound broke the silence, followed by a flurry of hurried footsteps.
"It looks like we scared away the ship coaters," someone remarked, shattering the stillness with the realization of the impact they had on the once-thriving island.
As Whitebeard and his crew entered the tavern, the atmosphere changed instantly. The laughter ceased, and the eyes of the pirates in the room turned towards the newcomers.
Haruta, with his cunning and calculative nature, scanned the room, assessing the situation. He noticed the tension and the uneasy glances exchanged among the pirates present. The commander of the Twelfth Division, always ready to seize an opportunity, whispered to the others, "Keep your guard up, but let me handle this."
Approaching the bar counter with a sly smile, Haruta addressed the bartender, "We heard this is the place where Rayleigh is hanging out. Mind if we join the party?"
The bartender, seemingly taken aback by the sudden appearance of Whitebeard's crew, nervously nodded. Haruta continued to survey the room, identifying potential allies and threats among the seated pirates.
Meanwhile, Whitebeard, maintaining his imposing presence, strolled through the tavern with a purpose. His sharp eyes analyzed every detail, gauging the reactions of those present. The residents' fear was still palpable, but Whitebeard remained unfazed.
As the crew settled in, the cunning and calculative nature of Alex, now embodied in Haruta, worked behind the scenes. Assessing the situation, making strategic decisions, and ensuring that every move served the crew's interests – such was the mindset that defined the calculated demeanor of the new and improved Alex.
Beads of cold sweat trickled down the foreheads of the brave bunch of pirates, clearly indicating their nervousness. Instead of cowering, they saw Whitebeard's arrival as an opportunity to meet him face-to-face.
However, bravery attracts bravery. After catching a glimpse of the Whitebeard commanders, the pirates trembled in fear, their bodies drenched in cold sweat.
"Look, it's Marco the Phoenix, the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates!"
"And not just him, Diamond Jozu and Flower Sword Vista are here too!"
"But that's not the main point. Look at that person..."
One of the pirates discreetly pointed, capturing everyone's attention.
Fire Fist Ace!
The son of Pirate King Roger, the very pirate the Marines had targeted for execution. Though news of Ace's rescue had spread worldwide, for many, witnessing Ace's lively and vigorous presence firsthand was beyond imagination.
"The commanders of the different Whitebeard divisions are here, which means... Whitebeard has arrived?!"
Suddenly, people thought of something and looked out of the bar.
Footsteps echoed—tread! tread! tread!
The sound of calm footsteps resonated as the light at the entrance dimmed, revealing a tall figure. Clad in a coat, his sturdy and bare upper body adorned with scars, and a face featuring a majestic white beard shaped like a crescent moon.
At the sight of this person, the pirates couldn't help but tremble. They held their breath, foreheads moist with cold sweat.
Whitebeard!
Known as the strongest man in the world, he appeared in the tavern at that very moment, bringing tremendous pressure even without any action or words.
Whitebeard paid no attention to the surrounding pirates. Instead, he fixed his gaze straight ahead, focusing on the old figure sitting in front of the bar.
"Guurarara~"
"Rayleigh, my old friend, it's been a while!"
Whitebeard laughed as he spoke, raising his weapon high and swinging it forcefully, aiming directly at the figure with a violent sound cutting through the air.
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