"He's not dead," Bao Huang's childlike voice stated, sharp and direct as shattered glass.
"Kurozumi Orochi is currently in the Flower Capital, rounding up rebels. Do you need me to project the scene for you?"
"Impossible..." Jack's voice began to tremble, his mind struggling to reconcile what he had seen with what he was hearing.
"I saw Orochi's corpse with my own eyes..."
Bao Huang said nothing more, instead silently retrieving a small, exquisitely crafted Den Den Mushi.
With a gentle tap on the creature's head, two beams of light shot from its eyes, projecting a moving image onto the far wall of the hall.
The picture was crystal clear: there, in the center of the Flower Capital's main plaza, stood Orochi, alive and well, loudly berating terrified civilians and ordering his guards to punish anyone who failed to provide information on the so-called "invaders."
Jack stared, his entire being consumed by a disorienting shock.
He desperately racked his brain, trying to find any detail, any inconsistency, that could explain this impossible phenomenon.
Was that corpse just a fake? he thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow.
A trick of some Devil Fruit? Or am I losing my mind?
"Enough. This ends here," Kaido's icy gaze cut through the confusion.
"Since that bastard isn't dead, let him keep playing shogun for now." He slowly raised his head, his piercing eyes sweeping over his defeated commanders.
His voice was low, but filled with a simmering anger that made the air itself seem to vibrate.
"But this complete, utter defeat is a permanent stain on the honor of the Beasts Pirates!"
As these words fell, the room plunged into a dead silence.
"What does treasure matter?" he scoffed disdainfully. "If it's gone, we raid and take more! The one thing we are never short of is money. But our pride... our pride has been trampled!"
"Kaido-sama, in my opinion, the next time Whitebeard shows up, we all jump him at once!" Queen spat viciously, his voice brimming with fury.
"Hahaha, exactly what I was thinking!" Jack boomed, his sycophantic grin returning.
"Whitebeard is only fast. In a contest of pure strength, our captain is his equal, if not his superior!"
Kaido slammed his fist on the armrest, silencing them.
"I want a solution!" he roared, not interested in empty flattery.
"My Observation Haki can barely track his attacks," he admitted, his voice a low, frustrated growl.
"But the problem is, his speed is just too damn absolute. I can see his next move, but my body... my body cannot keep up. If I could just pin that old bastard down for a single, solitary second, I would smash him into dust with one swing!"
The frustration in his voice was palpable—the inescapable shadow in his heart.
If he didn't resolve this issue, it would be a fatal weakness in their inevitable, final confrontation.
The room was thick with oppressive tension.
Jack, mustering his courage, cautiously spoke.
"Kaido-sama, is there any way we can exhaust Whitebeard's stamina? Once he's drained, won't he be at our mercy?"
Kaido let out a humorless, bitter laugh. "You make it sound so easy, Jack. Do you think I didn't try that?"
The memories of the battle flashed through his mind: the exhilarating feeling of Whitebeard's attacks growing weaker, the taste of victory on his tongue... and then the old man, on the very verge of exhaustion, simply dissolving into a streak of lightning and vanishing, leaving Kaido alone to roar his frustration at an empty sky.
"The moment Whitebeard senses a disadvantage, he retreats," he snarled.
"Tell me, how am I supposed to fight a man who won't stand and die like a warrior?"
Jack immediately lowered his head, not daring to say another word.
He had merely offered a suggestion, never expecting it to provoke such a powerful, negative reaction from his captain.
"My apologies, Kaido-sama, I only—"
"Enough," Kaido waved his hand, the gesture heavy with irritation.
"I understand your point. But the situation is more complicated than that. We need a better way to deal with Whitebeard, not just a brute-force hope of exhausting his stamina."
"Heh, Kaido-sama," a new voice, hoarse but brimming with a cold confidence, cut through the silence.
"I have a solution."
It was Who's-Who, pushing himself forward.
His body was wrapped in fresh bandages, clear evidence of his severe injuries, but his recovery as an Ancient Zoan user was incredibly robust.
Still, a trickle of fresh blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as he spoke, and he suppressed a pained cough.
Deep in his eyes, a burning hatred for the man who had reduced him to this state was plain to see.
Without wasting any more time, he shared his plan, his gaze locked directly on Kaido.
"The Whitebeard Pirates never act alone. Their greatest strength—their familial bond—is also their greatest weakness. All we need to do," he said, a cruel, calculating smirk forming on his lips.
"Is capture one of their crew members the next time they come."
As everyone listened, a dawning realization spread through the room.
Their eyes grew brighter.
"Given Whitebeard's nature," Who's-Who continued, his voice icy and resolute.
"He would never abandon one of his 'sons' to escape alone. We can use them as an anchor. We can force Whitebeard to stay and fight on our terms. Once we exhaust his stamina, it will be his death!"
As the simplicity and effectiveness of the plan sank in, a low chuckle rumbled in Kaido's chest.
The sound grew, escaping his lips not as a laugh, but as a building, volcanic eruption of pure, manic joy.
"WORORORORO! BRILLIANT!" he roared, the sound shaking the hall.
"YES! That old fool treats every last one of his crew like a precious son! He would never abandon them!" He had finally found a way, a clear path to victory, and the thought filled him with an exhilarating rush.
"As long as Whitebeard doesn't flee, I can keep wearing him down!" he continued, his eyes burning with a renewed battle lust.
In his excitement, he glanced around the room, a thought suddenly striking him.
"Where's Yamato?" he demanded.
Black Maria shook her head. "No idea. Young Master Yamato is probably off playing somewhere."
"We couldn't find him," Bao Huang added. "He must be hiding."
"Hmph," Kaido grunted, clearly dissatisfied. "Never mind that rebellious brat. He can't leave Onigashima anyway." He then turned his blazing eyes to his elite commanders.
"Flying Six! When Whitebeard comes next, your only task is to capture one of his crew! I don't care who! I don't care how! Gang up on one if you have to, but bring me a hostage, ALIVE!"
"Yes, Kaido-sama!" they roared in unison.
Having found a solution, Kaido's dark mood finally lifted, and a rare, savage smile appeared on his face.
He was about to order a grand feast to celebrate this pivotal moment when Jack, standing awkwardly to the side, muttered a hesitant, ill-timed question.
"The idea is good, but... when will Whitebeard come next?"
The words, though spoken softly, landed with the force of a thunderclap.
The celebratory roar in the hall died instantly.
The savage smiles froze on their faces, as if someone had pressed a pause button on reality.
The question echoed endlessly in their minds.
Right... when will he come?
What if he didn't come for six months? A year?
Could they truly maintain this level of high alert, this constant, nerve-shredding tension, for that long?
The thought was a cold, dreadful weight in the pit of their stomachs.
The exhilaration of a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a new, more insidious kind of dread.
Kaido's expression darkened once more, his furious, resigned glare so sharp it seemed to pierce straight through Jack, who instinctively hunched his shoulders and took two steps back.
Kaido remained silent for a long, heavy moment.
As grating as Jack's words were, they held an undeniable, infuriating truth.
He had a perfect plan... but what if the enemy never showed up to spring the trap?
"Kaido-sama" Black Maria's calm voice cut through the renewed gloom.
"I have an idea about that."
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