"Lord Eli Winters, might you grant me a courtesy and let this matter end here?" A deep, resonant voice echoed from afar, immediately drawing the attention of everyone present.
On the small garden, Hawkeye Mihawk's expression shifted, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. The voice and the familiar phrasing stirred a deep memory within him. After all, this was not the first time he had heard someone speak this way.
Eli Winters's gaze also followed the source. Far off on the ocean, a massive ship slowly approached. Its bow was sculpted into a magnificent red dragon's head, lifelike and imposing, as if it might roar at any moment.
Atop the dragon figurehead stood a man of well-proportioned build and commanding presence. His hair blazed like fire, fluttering wildly in the wind. Three prominent scars marked his left eye, lending a fierce edge to his gaze. A short stubble traced the corner of his mouth, hinting at a carefree and bold personality. Though his left arm was missing, his aura remained undiminished. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a long black coat that flapped dramatically in the wind. His lower half was clad in intricately patterned brown cropped pants, and simple sandals graced his feet. Across his waist hung a razor-sharp sword, its hilt gleaming with cold light.
This was none other than the renowned Red-Haired Shanks, a figure who had recently risen to prominence in the New World, commanding fear and respect. Rumors abounded that Shanks possessed strength sufficient to challenge for the title of Emperor of the Sea.
Behind him, the Red-Haired Pirates' officers displayed a range of expressions. Some appeared resigned, accustomed to their captain's unusual behavior; others were serious and vigilant, eyes sweeping every detail with unwavering focus. Though their reactions varied, every one of them understood the weight of their responsibility and dared not underestimate the situation.
Hearing Shanks utter the words "grant me a courtesy," Eli Winters suddenly laughed without restraint, as if someone had pressed a button deep within him. His laughter rang out across the air, echoing as though it could pierce the sky.
Memories of online jokes from his past life surfaced unbidden. People had teased that Red-Haired Shanks possessed a "Face Fruit" ability. Now, with the legendary figure standing before him, demanding courtesy in person, Eli Winters could not hold back his amusement.
The laughter, however, did not last. Slowly, the mirth faded from Eli Winters's face, replaced by an icy calm. Though he had no intention of killing Whitebeard or his allies at the moment, this stranger an unknown who had dared to seek courtesy so boldly would not easily get his way.
"Do I know you? Why should I give you courtesy?" Eli Winters's voice was cold and expressionless, his gaze sharp and piercing like a frozen star, fixed directly on Shanks.
Shanks, however, showed no anger. Maintaining his composure, he spoke in a gentle, calm tone. "My apologies for the presumption, Lord Eli Winters. I am Shanks, captain of the Red-Haired Pirates. I have come seeking discussion regarding a matter of importance."
He bowed slightly, a gesture of proper respect toward Eli Winters.
Eli Winters shook his head lightly, ignoring him. He could already anticipate Shanks' intentions. While he could refrain from harming Whitebeard and his companions, it would not be because of a mere word from Shanks. To Eli Winters, the Red-Haired Pirate captain had not earned that much respect.
Ignoring Shanks' urgent calls and attempts to intervene, Eli Winters floated down gracefully, landing firmly on the deck of Whitebeard's massive ship.
The crew of the Whitebeard Pirates tensed instantly at Eli Winters's sudden arrival. Every man stood ready, prepared as though facing a battle to the death.
Eli Winters's expression remained calm and unwavering as he scanned the armed, wary pirates before him. Then he began walking, measured and deliberate, toward the severely injured Whitebeard.
Seeing this, the captains of the Whitebeard Pirates stepped forward in unison, forming a solid protective barrier around their wounded patriarch.
Marco, occupied with emergency treatment for Whitebeard, could not join the defense. Thus, Diamond Joz took the front line as the third-ranking member of the crew.
Diamond Joz glared fiercely, his eyes locked on Eli Winters. "Eli Winters! If you want to harm our captain, you'll have to step over my body first!"
At that, a brilliant light erupted from him. His bare skin was instantly encased in a layer of unbreakable, sparkling diamond. He took a battle stance, prepared to fight Eli Winters to the death.
Other division captains of the Whitebeard Pirates followed suit. Anger and resolve marked their faces, hands gripping their weapons tightly. Their deadly intent thickened the air, making it almost solid.
Eli Winters's cold voice, like a cutting wind, carried to Whitebeard's ears: "Whitebeard, if you don't want these people to die in vain, order them to step aside!"
Whitebeard, despite his grievous injuries, forced out a voice brimming with authority. "Move aside! I am not so weak that I need you children to shield me!" His words, though spoken with pain, commanded obedience.
Diamond Joz, however, refused to yield. Gritting his teeth, he shouted with stubborn pride: "Father, we can do this! We will not let this brat act so arrogantly!" Others shared his shame at their weakness, regretting that they could not protect their revered captain.
Whitebeard's voice thundered, cutting through the tension: "Step aside! That is an order!" His eyes swept over every face, unyielding and resolute.
Reluctantly, Diamond Joz and the others parted, creating a path. Yet their gazes burned with hatred and fury, as if they wished to shred Eli Winters to pieces with sheer force of will.