[~1400 Words]
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"My Husband is so domineering… If he attacks Jinbe, what should I do…?"
Shirahoshi's thoughts swirled in confusion. As James's future wife, she couldn't openly object to his actions—especially since she didn't even know the injured Namur. All she could do was watch and pray he wouldn't act too harshly.
"Seven Warlords of the Sea, Jinbe," James said coldly, his tone carrying the weight of a god's judgment.
The arrogance in his voice made Jinbe's jaw tighten.
Even as a veteran warrior of the sea, he could feel the crushing dominance radiating from the man before him.
James continued, "Are you standing like that because you want to taste lightning too? Think carefully—behind you lies Fish-Man Island. If you can't even decide whose side you're on, perhaps there's no need for you to stay here at all."
The words hung heavy in the water, each one sinking deep into Jinbe's heart.
He hesitated for a long moment, then slowly lowered his defensive stance. He understood exactly what James meant: either stand with Whitebeard… or submit to him.
James's gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Jinbe—why did you bring this tactless, big-headed fool to find me? Do you share his intentions? Do you question my decision?"
Jinbe sighed deeply, his expression heavy. "Your Excellency, I came only to understand your true intentions. I heard you wish to fulfill the long-standing dream of the Merfolk and Fish-Man races—to lead them toward peace and equality. I wanted to know if you are a man we can trust."
James's lips curved in a faint, cold smile. "Oh? And what if I am? Or what if I'm not? With your strength, you wouldn't be able to stop me either way."
His tone cut through the sea like a blade. "The future of Fish-Man Island is for King Neptune to decide. You, a former Sea King Army captain and one of the Seven Warlords, have no right to defy his will."
Jinbe fell silent. Every word struck him with truth he couldn't deny. As a citizen of Ryugu Kingdom, unless he intended to rebel, his only duty was to obey the king.
Meanwhile, Namur's ruined body twitched faintly on the seabed—as if silently crying, Jinbe, stop talking and help me already!
James let out a low snort. "If you don't intend to follow Fish-Man Island's new rule, then take your Sun Pirates and leave. Now."
Jinbe froze. Leave? Abandon his home—the island he'd sworn to protect? Impossible.
He opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but the memory of Namur's smoldering body stopped him cold. James's methods were merciless. One wrong word, and he could join his fallen comrade in an instant.
"…Enough," Jinbe said finally, lowering his gaze. "I understand."
He turned toward Namur's body, grimacing at the sight. Half-charred, bleeding, barely alive—any wrong move might end him completely.
James's voice cut through the silence again, calm yet chilling. "You're not trying to save him, are you? Hmph… anyone who dares to offend a god is already a dead man."
Jinbe's hands clenched tightly. "Your Excellency's methods are sharp indeed. But you should know… Namur was one of Whitebeard's sons. Aren't you afraid of offending the world's strongest man?"
"Whitebeard?" James's tone was filled with disdain. "A dying old man clinging to the past. Tell me—what is there to fear?"
Jinbe's brows furrowed. "What a boastful tone… are you saying you intend to kill Whitebeard?"
He couldn't help but look at James in disbelief. In all his years, he had never met anyone who dared to speak of killing the man called the strongest in the world.
James gave a quiet laugh. "I don't intend to. But if he stands in my way… I won't hesitate."
The words carried no pride—only certainty.
Then his eyes hardened again. "Jinbe, if you and the Sun Pirates leave Fish-Man Island tomorrow, know this: I will hunt you all down. But if you stay… serve under me faithfully. That is your only choice."
Jinbe stiffened, realizing the truth—James wasn't giving him a choice at all.
Stay, and live as a subordinate. Leave… and die.
"Jinbe-san!" Shirahoshi suddenly cried, tears welling in her eyes. "Please don't leave Fish-Man Island… My Husband is a very good person!"
Jinbe's mouth twitched slightly. Princess Shirahoshi… you truly don't understand how terrifying this man is, do you?
He couldn't say it aloud. Instead, he knelt beside Namur, whose breathing had turned faint and shallow. Even if Fish-Man Island's best healers gathered here, they couldn't save him. Without the miraculous powers of Princess Mansherry's Healing Fruit, Namur's death was inevitable.
James had already lost interest. He turned away, preparing to leave on his flying carpet when—
"Purururu~ Purururu~!"
A sharp, urgent sound echoed through the water.
They all turned toward the source—it was coming from Namur's body. Jinbe reached into his tattered coat and pulled out a Den Den Mushi, its shell shaped like the face of Whitebeard himself. The snail's expression mirrored its owner's fury.
Jinbe's face paled. "This is… Whitebeard's line."
The snail's ringing grew louder and more insistent. Jinbe hesitated, glancing at James for permission.
James's expression didn't waver. "Answer it."
"Kacha~" The line opened with a soft click.
James smiled faintly, his tone mocking. "Whitebeard, Edward Newgate… calling so urgently—are you here to plead for that worthless son of yours?"
He spoke with a cold amusement. In truth, he held no hatred toward Whitebeard—but admiration meant nothing when power clashed.
A deep, rumbling voice filled the sea. "Gurararara~ Such a young voice. Was it you who hurt my son, Namur? Who are you, brat?"
The raw power in that voice was enough to make Jinbe's chest tighten. It was unmistakable—the voice of Edward Newgate, the Whitebeard himself.
Even if it were someone I respected, James thought, if they stood in my way… I'd still cut them down.
Besides, Whitebeard had made his own share of foolish choices—befriending Kozuki Oden, that reckless, self-righteous fool who abandoned his people.
Heh. The so-called "father" wasn't blameless either.
Whitebeard's laughter rumbled through the line. "Gurararara~ You've got spirit, boy. But tell me—do you understand what you've done? My son's Vivre Card is burning. You've picked a fight with my Whitebeard Pirates!"
Far across the New World, on a remote island, Marco—the First Division Commander—watched Namur's Vivre Card smolder and shrink. His expression darkened.
"Old man," Marco said grimly, "Namur's life is fading fast. Whoever did this… they're strong."
Whitebeard's eyes narrowed. His voice turned low and dangerous. "Marco. Find out who he is. Every detail."
"Yes, Pops," Marco replied, already setting out.
Meanwhile, in the waters above Fish-Man Island—
James gave a quiet, amused chuckle. "You'll find out soon enough, old man. But not today. There's no need to rush… we'll meet soon."
With a snap of his fingers, the Den Den Mushi shattered in his hand, the connection severed.
The remnants of the explosion flickered briefly in the water before fading into silence.
Namur—the Eighth Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates—was dead.
Back in the New World, silence filled the Whitebeard Pirates' base. The Den Den Mushi went dead, and the last scrap of Namur's Vivre Card turned to ash.
No one dared to speak.
"Cough… cough, cough…"
Whitebeard's chest heaved painfully as he reached for his IV line, his nurses rushing to steady him.
After several tense moments, he steadied his breathing and growled, "Marco… investigate. Find out who dared attack my son."
"Yes, Old Man!"
Marco clenched his jaw, a cold dread twisting in his gut.
Something's coming, he thought. Something far worse than any of us realize.
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