-Real World-
After Admiral Gin's brief recollection faded, the Sky Screen returned to his confrontation with Doflamingo. But the global audience remained reeling from the information overload they'd just experienced.
The Battle of Marineford—that earth-shaking war whose name echoed across all four seas—had always been shrouded in mystery. People knew it had happened. Knew it represented a turning point in modern history. But actual details remained classified, suppressed, hidden behind walls of military secrecy.
Now they understood why.
The Marines had paid a catastrophic price. Their Fleet Admiral hadn't just been defeated—he'd been reduced to a vegetative state, a living corpse confined to a hospital bed for the rest of his natural life. The symbol of Marine authority, broken and helpless.
If they did that to Sengoku, civilians across the world thought with creeping horror, what chance do we have against these monsters?
But more disturbing than Sengoku's fate was the revelation about his Devil Fruit's current owner.
The "Trinity" concept corresponded perfectly to the three skulls on Blackbeard's Jolly Roger. Portgas D. Ace, watching from his small striker ship, felt recognition strike like lightning. He'd seen that flag before—noticed those three skulls during his pursuit—but never understood their significance.
Now the symbolism was obvious. Horrifyingly obvious.
Three Devil Fruits. Three souls in one body.
"The Gura Gura no Mi (Tremor-Tremor Fruit)," Ace muttered, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. "That bastard has Oyaji's power. How? How is that even possible?!"
Marshall D. Teach possessed all three categories of Devil Fruit simultaneously: the Logia-type Yami Yami no Mi (Dark-Dark Fruit), the Paramecia-type Gura Gura no Mi, and the Zoan Mythical-type Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Daibutsu (Human-Human Fruit, Model: Great Buddha).
Each one was top-tier within its classification. None were ordinary. None were wasted on trivial abilities. Combined together, enhanced by whatever biological abnormality allowed Teach to host multiple powers...
No one could accurately predict Blackbeard's true strength five years in the future. Such a being had never existed before in recorded history.
Living in the same era as such a legend is a nightmare, Admiral Gin's words echoed in countless minds across the world.
After hearing the death list—that litany of victims whose Devil Fruits would eventually be stolen—every ability user on the planet felt a chill of existential dread. The future looked increasingly dark. Increasingly hopeless.
Even Devil Fruit users weren't safe from this predator.
Meanwhile, in the present timeline, the Blackbeard Pirates had recently raided a merchant ship near Drum Island before departing smoothly. After resupplying in the Kingdom of Arabasta, they'd chosen not to linger—too many Marine patrols, too much attention—and returned to the open seas.
On his cramped pirate ship, Marshall D. Teach watched his future self displayed across the Sky Screen with complicated emotions. Pride warred with frustration. Satisfaction battled resentment.
He was happy, seeing confirmation that his ambitions would bear fruit. That all his planning, all his patience, all those years spent hiding his true nature would eventually pay off spectacularly.
But he was also furious at whoever controlled the Sky Screen. Revealing this future to the entire world was like roasting him over an open flame—making him the target of universal hostility before he'd built sufficient strength to withstand it.
How am I supposed to develop quietly now? Teach thought bitterly. Everyone on the ocean will be watching. Preparing. Uniting against me before I can divide them.
The fat man couldn't help but laugh—a sound mixing genuine amusement with dark frustration. "Zehahahaha! Trinity, huh? Never thought I'd be called something so dramatic. But I guess it fits." He stroked his scraggly beard thoughtfully. "Oyaji's Gura Gura no Mi, Sengoku's Mythical Zoan fruit, plus my own Yami Yami no Mi... Yeah, I'll definitely be a legend."
But the Sky Screen's revelations had accelerated everyone's timelines. Major powers would now guard against him proactively, interfering with his plans before he could execute them properly. Achieving his destined future had suddenly become exponentially more difficult.
That damn broadcast is deliberately sabotaging me.
Lafitte, the former corrupt sheriff from West Blue, stood beside his captain wearing his signature black top hat and cane. The skeletal navigator's shock at the Sky Screen's information had transformed into fanatic enthusiasm.
"Captain," he said, his voice carrying theatrical flair, "I believe we shouldn't worry excessively. This ocean is vast—unimaginably vast. As long as we act with appropriate caution, no force can locate us reliably." He sneered at the implied Marine surveillance. "People infiltrate Mary Geoise itself despite all their security. As long as we maintain mobility on the Grand Line, the Blackbeard Pirates will eventually rise to prominence regardless of interference."
His eyes gleamed with anticipation behind his monocle. "The Yami Yami no Mi's abilities are truly addictive to witness. I'm looking forward to the Devil Fruit Legion's formation."
Now that their hunting of ability users had been publicly exposed, there was no point maintaining pretense. The Blackbeard Pirates would operate openly—accepting any Devil Fruit user as prey, knowing that each stolen ability increased their collective strength proportionally.
Teach's grin widened, showing his characteristic gap-toothed smile. "Zehahahaha! You know what? I've made a decision." He looked toward the direction Ace was pursuing from, his expression calculating. "Who wants the Mera Mera no Mi (Flame-Flame Fruit) from Fire Fist? It's a Logia—still valuable despite its limitations."
Originally, he'd planned to trade Ace to the Marines, leveraging the revelation of his Pirate King lineage for maximum political gain. But the Sky Screen had already exposed Gol D. Roger's son publicly. That intelligence was worthless now—everyone already knew.
Better to keep the fruit in-house, Teach reasoned. Build our own strength rather than empowering the Marines.
He'd never particularly valued the Mera Mera no Mi personally. Fire manipulation seemed impressive to rookies, but in the New World? Plenty of fighters could generate comparable flames through pure Haki and technique alone. The fruit's temperature ceiling was mediocre compared to true top-tier abilities.
But for building a crew? Logia fruits remained incredibly valuable.
Elsewhere on the ocean, Ace continued his solitary pursuit aboard his striker ship—a small, fire-propelled boat that let him chase Blackbeard's trail with single-minded determination.
Stubborn. Hot-blooded. Absolutely refusing to listen to Whitebeard's advice.
He wanted to clean up this mess personally. Wanted to capture the traitor who'd murdered Thatch and restore his family's honor through his own strength.
The boy's obstinance gave Edward Newgate constant headaches.
On the Moby Dick—flagship of the Whitebeard Pirates—the atmosphere had grown oppressively heavy.
The adopted sons Edward Newgate had collected over decades all loved their father deeply. They'd built a family together, created bonds stronger than blood. The revelation that a traitor had hidden among them for years, waiting for the perfect moment to strike...
It was a betrayal that cut deeper than any physical wound.
Blackbeard hadn't just murdered a brother and fled. He'd stepped on the Whitebeard Pirates' corpses to reach the top. Seized their father's territories. Stolen Oyaji's Devil Fruit through some dark method. His crimes were unforgivable—demanding retribution that transcended normal pirate conflicts.
Edward Newgate sat in his medical chair, IV tubes feeding directly into his massive arms. Age and illness had weakened the Strongest Man in the World, but his mind remained sharp. His will remained unbroken.
Watching Admiral Gin's summary of Blackbeard's future achievements, the old pirate couldn't suppress a weary sigh.
"I misjudged you, Teach," Whitebeard rumbled, his voice carrying across the deck despite its quiet tone. "Never imagined your ambition ran that deep. Being a Yonko isn't enough for you, is it?" He paused, ancient eyes distant with memory. "Roger definitely isn't waiting for someone like you."
His thoughts drifted to his old rival—Gol D. Roger, the only man who'd ever matched him in battle. When Roger had wanted to share the truth about the One Piece, Whitebeard had refused without hesitation.
He didn't care about legendary treasures. Never had. His dream was simpler, more fundamental: build a family large enough that every orphan on these cruel seas could find a home. Could experience love and acceptance regardless of their past.
But Roger, when drunk enough to speak freely, had confessed something troubling. Said he was waiting for someone. Waiting for a specific person to reach Laugh Tale and claim the One Piece. Said the world needed that person to appear.
The Pirate King had died without seeing his prophecy fulfilled. And Whitebeard suspected he wouldn't live to see it either.
Marshall D. Teach, the old man thought with absolute certainty, is definitely not the person Roger was waiting for.
For the first time since Teach's betrayal, Edward Newgate felt genuine killing intent crystallize in his chest. Not the casual battle-fury of a warrior, but cold determination to eliminate a threat to everything he'd built.
The Sky Screen had shown his family's destruction five years hence. While details remained vague, Whitebeard possessed enough tactical experience to read between the lines.
Blackbeard's interference caused it. That ambitious fool will sacrifice my sons to fuel his own ascension.
He couldn't allow it. Wouldn't sacrifice his other sons' lives just because he'd lost one to darkness.
He loved every adopted son in his family equally. Teach's betrayal didn't diminish that love—it only made protecting the others more urgent.
"Marco," Whitebeard's voice cut through the deck's oppressive silence like a blade. "I have an order for you."
The First Division Commander straightened immediately, phoenix-blue flames flickering unconsciously around his shoulders. "Yes, Pops?"
"Go to Paradise," Whitebeard commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "Find Teach. Bring him back—dead or alive, I don't care which." He paused, his expression softening slightly. "And retrieve that stubborn child Ace while you're at it. The Marines will never let him go now that his lineage is public knowledge. He's in more danger than he realizes."
Marco's face remained carefully neutral, but his eyes burned with barely-suppressed fury. He wanted to ask Blackbeard for justice. Wanted to make the traitor pay for murdering Thatch, for stealing Oyaji's power, for destroying their family's peace.
A dangerous, ambitious man like Marshall D. Teach needed to die quickly—before his future strength materialized, before he became the unstoppable monster shown on the Sky Screen.
"Understood, Pops," Marco said quietly. "I'll bring them both back."
One way or another.
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