"!!!"
Sanji and Zoro charged forward fearlessly toward the massive paw-shaped bubble.
The Navy soldiers, who had been immersed in joy just moments ago, finally realized what was happening.
The pain inflicted on those who were blown away needed someone to bear it.
And that person… was none other than their respected commander — Rear Admiral Hawke!
"Rear Admiral!!!"
The perfectly disciplined formation of thousands suddenly fell into chaos.
Determined and steely faces were now filled with terror and confusion.
Instinctively, they wanted to rush forward, to stop their big brother from doing this.
"…"
Hawke's gaze sharpened slightly.
A faint, overwhelming pressure instantly blanketed the entire square.
Everyone froze in place, unable to move an inch.
Hawke extended one hand, without the slightest hesitation, and pressed it against the massive paw print that carried the pain of thousands.
"Buzz—"
Tearing, burning, searing agony, exhaustion…
Like a raging black tide breaking through a dam, the flood of pain surged through every nerve in his body.
Any ordinary Rear Admiral would have had their consciousness shattered instantly.
But the moment that torrent of agony poured into Hawke, it slammed into an indestructible wall.
A physique of Admiral-level strength — like a blazing furnace — devoured, digested, and obliterated all the negative energy.
Before even the faintest sting could reach his mind, his monstrous vitality had already wiped it away.
"…"
Before the stunned eyes of everyone present, the massive paw that had blotted out the sky began shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye, until it completely vanished.
Hawke withdrew his hand and slowly turned back around.
His gaze fell upon the soldiers below — many of whom were already in tears.
"That's enough. Why are you all making those long faces?"
His tone was calm. "This was a trial for you. I didn't intervene, so the price… I'll shoulder it."
"Next time, I'll be the one leading the charge!"
"!!!"
A few simple words landed on the soldiers' hearts like a heavy hammer.
'When you can still stand and fight, I'll cover your back.'
'When the enemy is overwhelming, I'll lead you into battle.'
Military honors, rewards, vacations — none were lacking.
Pain, exhaustion, suffering — he bore them all alone.
This kindness, heavier than a mountain…
How are we supposed to ever repay this?!
The soldiers' hearts surged violently with emotions too overwhelming for words.
"Hsss—"
Sanji bit down hard on his cigarette, burning his lips without even realizing it.
Hawke…
He had taken on the pain of thousands with nothing but his own body.
How could anyone not follow such a man?
"…"
Zoro's eyes churned with emotion.
So this was what true strength meant…
The power to shoulder the sky for the countless people behind you.
"Shff—"
Then, all the soldiers acted in unison without a word exchanged.
Zoro, Sanji, and the thousands of G-3 Division soldiers straightened their backs, clenched their right fists, and slammed them hard against their left chests — over their hearts.
"Thud!"
"Thud! Thud!"
Thousands of fists striking against thousands of hearts resounded like an earth-shaking oath.
No words were needed.
This was the only way they could express their burning loyalty!
"That's enough. Dismissed!"
Hawke waved his hand.
"Return to the branch and rest up!"
"Yes, sir!!!"
Their thunderous roar scattered the last clouds in the sky.
"…"
Beside them, Bartholomew Kuma's towering figure stood motionless, like a statue.
He looked calm, but inside, waves were raging.
As the one who had expelled all that pain, he knew better than anyone just how terrifying that energy was.
And yet Rear Admiral Hawke…
He bore it all without flinching!
Not a tremor. Not a wince.
As if he had merely brushed some dust off his shoulder.
What kind of monstrous physique was this?!
A superhuman beast!
There were no other words to describe him.
Kuma's eyes locked firmly on Hawke's back.
So this… this was the source of G-3's unity and strength.
So this… was the true reason Fleet Admiral Sengoku had sent him here.
This man becoming the new leader of the Marines…
It was only a matter of time.
Kuma lowered his gaze to his own modified body.
No pain. No fatigue. Indestructible.
If one day something ever threatened Rear Admiral Hawke's life…
Then he would become the perfect shield to buy him time.
Without realizing it, a Bible had appeared in Kuma's massive hand.
(Yes, the book Kuma always carries is literally called BIBLE in the original.)
Unbidden, an image surfaced in his mind — a small, lively figure in overalls, happily munching on pizza with both hands.
Bonney…
His only daughter.
For her, he had given up everything — becoming the World Government's hound, an emotionless weapon.
But now…
Now he saw another possibility.
Could this young Rear Admiral…
Could this man with limitless potential…
Could he help him save Bonney?
...
New World — an unnamed island
Flames roared in the night, painting the sky in shades of orange.
Giant cuts of meat sizzled on the spit, while the rich aroma of roasting flesh mixed with the deep, heady scent of liquor.
"La la la la!"
Members of the Whitebeard Pirates' 4th Division danced and drank around the bonfire, celebrating another resounding victory.
"Commander Thatch! Another helping of that Sea King tenderloin!"
"This wine's too weak! Break out the good stuff!"
Laughter and cheers filled the air.
As the commander and head chef of the 4th Division, Thatch was busier than anyone.
His golden pompadour gleamed under the firelight, his broad grin shining as he skillfully sliced the meat into pieces and handed them out to his brothers.
"Easy, easy! There's enough for everyone!"
Thatch chuckled, turning to the mountain of spoils they had taken from a small-time pirate crew earlier.
He figured he might find some rare spices among the loot.
Casually pushing aside piles of gold and jewels, his eyes were drawn to a wooden chest tucked in the corner.
The chest itself was plain, but the chains wrapped around it… carried an ominous air.
"Oh?"
Thatch's curiosity was piqued.
He drew his sword and easily sliced through the chains, lifting the lid.
Inside was no treasure — only a single fruit.
A pitch-black fruit, its surface etched with eerie, spiraling patterns.
The Yami Yami no Mi — the Dark-Dark Fruit.
It lay there quietly, like a bottomless whirlpool, pulling his gaze into its depths.
"This is… a Devil Fruit?"
Thatch froze, then his face lit up with joy.
"Oi! Everyone, look what I found!"
His shout instantly drew the attention of the entire crew.
"That's a Devil Fruit, Commander Thatch!"
"Man, you're lucky as hell!"
"You know the rule — finders keepers! Commander, you gonna eat it?"
Thatch picked up the fruit, feeling the strange energy pulsing within it, his grin widening.
"Of course! With something this interesting, how could I not?"
He raised the fruit high, showing it off to the others.
But in the corner of the crowd…
A hulking figure stood, his face wide and scarred, his teeth crooked and broken.
Marshall D. Teach.
Blackbeard.
His breathing grew heavier, ragged.
From within the shadows, his eyes burned with greed, envy, and a madness so deep it chilled the air.
The Dark-Dark Fruit.
It was here.
It was finally here!!!
For this fruit, he had hidden among the Whitebeard Pirates for over twenty years!
He had memorized the appearance of every Devil Fruit in existence, etching this one into his very soul.
That fruit… was his!
Teach forced down the storm raging inside him, plastering on his familiar goofy grin as he raised a barrel in toast.
"Zehahaha! Congratulations, Commander Thatch!"
No one noticed the flash of murderous intent buried deep in his eyes.
...
Late that night
The wild feast gradually died down.
Most of the crew lay passed out, snoring loudly.
Thatch, humming cheerfully, returned to his quarters in high spirits.
He placed the Dark-Dark Fruit on his desk, lit an oil lamp, and prepared to study his soon-to-be new power.
Just then—
Creak…
The door opened slightly.
"Who's there?"
"It's me, Commander Thatch."
Teach stood in the doorway, his trademark foolish smile still on his face.
"Oh, Teach! What brings you here so late?"
Thatch let his guard down, grinning as he asked.
"Zehahahaha…"
Teach's laughter cut through the silence, unnervingly sharp.
He stepped inside, each footfall deliberate, his gaze never leaving the black fruit on the desk.
"Commander Thatch…"
"That fruit… it's calling to me."
"What?"
Thatch's smile faltered.
At last, he caught a glimpse of something dark in Teach's eyes.
He opened his mouth to question him—
"Zehahaha!"
In an instant, Teach exploded into motion, his massive body moving with terrifying speed, utterly at odds with his size.
His hand shot out like an iron claw, clamping hard around Thatch's throat.
"!!!"
Thatch's pupils contracted sharply, the suffocating pressure overwhelming his senses.
To his shock, this fool who spent his days eating and drinking had been hiding monstrous strength all along.
He struggled desperately, reaching for the blade at his hip.
But it was too late.
Teach's other hand had already drawn a cold, black pistol.
The barrel pressed firmly against Thatch's chest.
"Goodbye, Commander Thatch."
Bang!
The gunshot was deafening in the quiet night.
Thatch's eyes widened, disbelief freezing his expression as blood blossomed from his chest, his gaze fixed on Teach's twisted, manic face.
He couldn't understand.
Why?
Weren't we family?
Didn't we sail under the same flag, call the same man "Pops"?
Darkness swallowed his consciousness.
Teach shoved aside Thatch's warm corpse, snatched up the Dark-Dark Fruit, and bit deeply into it without hesitation.
The taste was vile beyond imagination, nearly making him retch.
But he endured it, savoring the surge of the power he had sought all his life.
"Zehahahahahaha!!!"
"My era… begins now!"
Without another glance, he vanished into the shadows.
...
The next morning
The first rays of sunlight spilled into the room.
Marco pushed open the door to Thatch's quarters.
"Thatch, get up, Pops wants—"
His words caught in his throat.
The room was a mess.
Thatch lay sprawled in a pool of blood, his body cold, his face still frozen in shock and confusion.
The gaping bullet hole in his chest stabbed into Marco's heart like a blade.
"…"
A deathly silence.
Then—
The entire Whitebeard Pirates erupted into chaos.
The unthinkable had happened.
One of their own… had murdered family.
The iron rule set by Pops, the one unbreakable law… had been shattered.
A furious, grief-stricken roar tore through the morning silence aboard the Moby Dick.
"TEEEEAAAACH!!!"